While many vintage magazines used grainy rotogravure, Jung und Frei occasionally produced glossy inserts. The rarest photos are those shot by uncredited Ostkreuz agency photographers who used Leica M3s, resulting in shallow depth of field that makes the subject (usually a laughing blonde girl or a boy with a Vespa) pop against a blurry forest background.
The worst thing a photo can be is boring. The second worst? Stiff.
Our best photos look like they were stolen moments. A friend turning their head mid-sentence. Feet dangling from a train window. The blur of a campfire story at 2 AM. When you look at a Jung und Frei spread, you shouldn’t think, “What a good photographer.” You should think, “I wish I’d been there.”
Pro tip from our editors: Put the camera down for 20 minutes. Let your subject forget you exist. Then shoot. The first genuine yawn, the fixing of a shoelace, the sudden sprint toward the water – that’s your cover shot.
To understand why these images are so coveted, we must understand the magazine’s mission. Launched in the economic miracle years (Wirtschaftswunder) of West Germany, Jung und Frei targeted teenagers who were neither children nor full adults. Unlike the somber tones of wartime photography, Jung und Frei embraced:
The best Jung und Frei magazine photos are those that freeze this specific cocktail of relief, rebellion, and romance.