In her Savile Row–tailored uniform, Lee Miller was sent to Normandy. Condé Nast took care to place her away from the frontlines for her safety, during her second assignment in the French port city of Saint-Malo, she however unexpectedly found herself in the midst of a full-scale siege. Miller’s report from that experience was captivating, and from then on, she became Vogue’s frontwoman. Her photographs were accompanied by compelling written reports of what she witnessed firsthand, and her coverage was met with increasing acclaim. Miller’s unique ability to find beauty and aesthetic even in such a horrifying and painful environment resulted in images that were both deeply moving and unsettling. The photographs she took during this time remain among the most influential war images to this day. In Vienna, she captured opera singer Irmgard Seefried in a striking silhouette, performing an aria from Madama Butterfly amid the shattered remains of a bombed-out opera house. Miller’s haunting image of the Leipzig mayor’s daughter’s lifeless body subtly evokes Hippolyte Bayard’s Self Portrait as a Drowned Man.

Unlike Vogue’s more recent political fashion missteps, Miller’s education in fashion photography enabled her to capture photos with real meaning. Discovered by Condé Nast himself at 19 years old while walking the streets of New York, she was almost struck by a passing car – only to be saved by the publisher. Seeing her potential immediately, Nast had her on the cover of Vogue shortly after. Modeling came as naturally to her as her beauty – she was a supermodel before the term even existed, working with the industry’s top photographers. George Hoyningen-Huene and Edward Steichen, two of the most renowned fashion photographers of the time, both made her their muse. Remember the iconic “Divers” photograph from 1930? It was shot by Hoyningen-Huene and the woman in the photo is said to be Lee Miller. Steichen, too, featured her in many of his fashion editorials, with some of his most iconic images today being closely associated with her. Through her collaborations with such esteemed photographers, Miller not only perfected her craft in front of the camera but also developed a growing interest in working behind it.

Lee’s interest in photography turned into a true pursuit after one of Edward Steichen’s portraits of her was used in a Kotex advertisement for menstrual hygiene products. In the 20th century, this sparked widespread controversy, causing major fashion houses to distance themselves from her. With Steichen’s support, she made the leap to Paris, transitioning from modeling to photography. It was Steichen who also introduced her to Man Ray, the surrealist photographer, marking the beginning of one of the most iconic collaborations in photography. Miller quickly became Ray’s apprentice, assistant, muse, and lover. While in Paris, she worked both as a model and a photographer, immersing herself in the city’s artistic circles and befriending figures like Pablo Picasso and Max Ernst. Three years later, she returned to New York to open her own photo studio. As her son, Anthony Penrose, later recalled, “Being photographed by Lee Miller became quite the thing to mention at cocktail parties.” After a brief marriage to an Egyptian businessman and a few more years in France, where she was part of the Parisian high society, Miller moved to London when the Nazis invaded Poland, marking the beginning of the Second World War. Suddenly, fashion photography, art, and culture seemed irrelevant. Yet, Miller channeled everything she had learned in those fields into her new role as a war correspondent, making it distinctly her own. She embodied the spirit of the Renaissance Man, as defined by figures like Leonardo da Vinci – “a man who can do all things if he will,”. She mastered multiple disciplines and excelled in each. You could call her a modern Renaissance woman.

Miller’s most eye-opening body of work remains the photographs she took at the Buchenwald and Dachau concentration camps shortly after its liberation. Accompanying them was her urgent plea: “Believe it! I implore you to believe this is true.” She begged her editors at Vogue to publish these horrifying images – piles of human bodies and bones, men and women discarded like trash, and a dead S.S. guard, drowned in the river. The cultural and political impact of Miller’s photographs extends far beyond their time. In Carol Christian Poell’s Spring/Summer 2004 men’s collection, for example, models floated down the Naviglio Grande canal in Milan. Although the show did not credit Miller’s photography work as an inspiration, the resemblance to her war photography is hard to ignore, whether intentional or not.

Later that day, Lee Miller took a bath in Hitler’s bathtub. Accompanied by Life reporter David Scherman, she visited Hitler’s abandoned apartment in Munich. Scherman captured the moment, taking what would become arguably her most famous and controversial photograph. As she scrubs herself, a framed portrait of Hitler looms in the background. The white bath mat stained with the dirt and dust from her boots she wore to Dachau earlier.

Her presence in Hitler’s apartment was not a spectacle – it was a statement, shaped by the horrors she had just witnessed. This distinction is crucial when considering fashion’s engagement with war today. Vogue’s recent missteps felt so out of place because they added little to the conversation. If you truly want to understand an issue at hand, you are better off reading an actual newspaper than looking to fashion editorials for political messages. This, however, was not the case with Lee Miller’s work. Her photo stories from the front line were essential in educating about the realities of war, particularly for women. With husbands, sons, and brothers away at war, women were expected to manage the home front alone and turned to accessible, trusted sources, like Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar, for information. Unlike today, where fashion magazines’ political messages often feel insignificant, during the Second World War, they became a vital bridge between the home front and the battlefield, playing an essential role in women’s political education. Moreover, Lee Miller was deeply committed to her work on the front lines. She risked her life to document the realities of war – not only during the conflict, by placing herself in danger, but also in its aftermath, as she was said to never quite be the same after what she saw. Haunted by the atrocities she had seen, she hid her photographs in the attic and turned to alcohol. But despite the personal toll, her work remains invaluable. Then, as now, people recognize the price she paid to bring the truth to light.

FOTOGAGA. Max Ernst und die Fotografie. Die Sammlung Würth zu Gast exhibition on view at Museum für Fotografie / Helmut Newton Stiftung until April 27th 2025.