An Open Letter to Consumers of the Photography Industry

From your slightly over-caffeinated, perfectly pleasant, dangerously patient photographer. 💐📸

Dear Client,

(And by “client,” I mean the person who swears they read the prep guide but still shows up 17 minutes late with an iced coffee and a wrinkled linen shirt.)

Let me begin by saying this: I love my job. I genuinely enjoy photographing people. I love working with families, especially older teens who think they’re too cool for family portraits but still crack a smile when I catch them off guard. I love good light, great outfits, and real connection.

But sometimes… you make it really hard to love the job. 😇

So, in the interest of keeping it real (and keeping my sanity), I present the things photographers wish they could say out loud—but usually whisper softly into their coffee mugs instead.

Things Photographers Really Want to Say

But we smile instead because we’re professionals with bills and boundaries.

1. The Retainer Isn’t a Deposit. It’s a Promise.

A retainer books your session. It tells me you’re serious. It tells me you respect my time. It tells me I don’t need to stare at my inbox wondering if you’re going to flake like a lip gloss from 2006.
It is not refundable if you ghost, cancel without rescheduling, or pull a “we forgot, oops.”
No hate, no hard feelings. Just... consequences.

2. If You Show Up in a Wrinkled Shirt, That’s Not My Emergency.

Yes, I can Photoshop a pimple. I can even sculpt you a new jawline if I’m feeling generous.
What I cannot and will not do is iron your outfit in post.

If your shirt’s been balled up in your backseat since last week’s PTA meeting, that’s not an editing request—that’s a life choice. Bring a hanger. Use a steamer. Or embrace the crinkle-core aesthetic. Either way, I’m not pixel-pressing your wardrobe.

3. You Can Reschedule—But Only Once. I Am Not a Time Lord.

I get it. Life is messy. Teens get sick. Schedules shift. But I allow one reschedule within 30 days of your original appointment. After that, it’s a new session, new retainer, new everything.
Time is money. And I don't do time travel for free.

4. When You're Late, You’re Cutting Into Your Own Time. Not Mine.

If your session is at 3:00, that doesn’t mean leave your house at 3:00. That means be standing in front of my camera at 3:00, fully dressed, hair done, pretending to like each other. 😊

Every minute you’re late is a minute lost. The light doesn’t wait. Your teenager’s tolerance definitely doesn’t wait. And I have another client after you.

5. Yes, the Teens Can Be Moody. No, I Don’t Need You to Yell at Them.

Listen, I get it. Family dynamics are... layered. But I promise, I’ve photographed kids in worse moods and still made magic.
Please don’t bribe, scold, or publicly shame them mid-shoot. It kills the vibe. Let me read the room and get what we need. Passive-aggressive whisper-fighting is a classic family tradition, but maybe not mid-session.

6. Group Photos Are a Full-Contact Sport. Let Me Lead.

There’s always one person who wants to rearrange the poses, reassign the groupings, or make “just one little suggestion.”
No, Aunt Cathy, this is not your moment.

Unless you’re also carrying a backup battery and memorized everyone’s good side, I kindly ask that you let me do my job. I promise the posing is intentional, even if it looks casual. That’s called skill, darling.

7. Once the Gallery Is Delivered, We Are Not Still Editing. We Are Emotionally Released.

Your gallery has been edited, polished, exported, and uploaded with love (and probably some snacks). That’s the finish line—not a new round of “actually, can you just…”

If you had specific requests, you had two perfect opportunities:

• During the prep phase and session

• Or in the proofing gallery (if your session included one)

Asking for extra tweaks after delivery is like trying to redo your wedding cake after eating the whole thing. ESPECIALLY if we are talking about a master composite art piece. Yes, I can reopen the files. But that’s a new service. With a new fee. And a new existential crisis for me in front of Lightroom.

8. This Is Not Just a Job—It’s Emotional Labor. And It’s Priceless.

I’m not just clicking a button. I’m managing dynamics. I’m gently redirecting the passive-aggressive tension between siblings. I’m posing people who "hate how they look in photos" and making them feel seen and celebrated. I’m soothing, styling, leading, and delivering art.
If I make it look easy, good. That means I’m doing it right. But please, don’t mistake effortless for less effort.

In Conclusion…

I love my work. I love your families. I love creating magical works of astonishing art. I love capturing something real and giving you images that make you pause and say, “Wow. That’s us.”

All I ask in return?

Show up on time. Pay on time. Wear something wrinkle-free. And please—for the love of good lighting—don’t ask me to fix things in Photoshop that could’ve been handled with an iron, a calendar, or a group text.

With grace, grit, and a slightly strained smile,
Your Loyal, Stepford-Savage Photographer
💋📸🌸