Why I've Never Been Comfortable With the Word "Makeover"

Because the best portraits don't change us…
They change the way we see ourselves.

Every now and then, a client looks at the back of my camera, pauses for a moment and says something I'll probably never get tired of hearing.

"I never knew I could look like that."

I've heard those words many times over the years. They're usually spoken with surprise rather than excitement. Sometimes they're followed by silence. Occasionally by laughter. Almost always, though, they end in a long pause.

People often assume they're reacting because they've been transformed.

I've never thought that's what was happening.

Perhaps that's why I've never been completely comfortable with the word makeover.

The word suggests that someone arrives needing to become a different person before they're worthy of being photographed. It promises transformation, glamour and the possibility of looking unlike ourselves. I understand why that appeals to people. We all have days when we wish we looked a little different… or perhaps a little better.

I've simply never believed that's what portraiture is about.

Over the years, I've photographed people from many different walks of life. Doctors, entrepreneurs, artists, teachers, mothers and leaders. The more time I spend with remarkable people, the more convinced I become that very few of them need changing. They've already spent years becoming who they are. Their experience has been earned through long days, difficult decisions, personal sacrifices and countless moments no camera will ever witness.

The person I'm photographing already exists. They always have.

My responsibility isn't to reinvent them. It's to see them.

That changes the way I approach every portrait session. I still believe in thoughtful styling. I value natural makeup because it enhances rather than distracts. I care deeply about beautiful lighting, thoughtful composition, fine prints and craftsmanship. But none of those things are the destination. They're simply ways of removing distractions so the person standing in front of me has the opportunity to be seen a little more clearly.

Maybe that's why I almost always create one or two portraits that were never part of the original plan. They're often a little more expressive. A little less expected. Not because I'm trying to create something artistic, but because those are usually the moments when people stop thinking about how they should look and simply allow themselves to be present. More often than not, those become the photographs they remember most.

I've come to think that the most meaningful portraits don't introduce us to a different person.

They introduce us to a different perspective.

Maybe that's what people are really responding to when they say, "I never knew I could look like that." They aren't recognising someone they've never met before. They're recognising a side of themselves they simply hadn't been given the opportunity to see.

For a long time, I thought The Pursuit of Finer Portraits was about refining my craft. Better judgement. Better lighting. Better conversations. Better restraint. Those things still matter.

But somewhere along the way, I realised I wasn't simply pursuing finer photographs.

I was learning to see people more completely.

Today, that's what The Pursuit of Finer Portraits means to me.

Because people rarely need changing.

The best portraits don't change us. They change the way we see ourselves.