I still remember how it felt—the butterflies, the body insecurities, the outfit panic. Booking my first boudoir shoot was a bold move, but walking into that studio felt like stepping into a dream and a dare all at once. I wish someone had told me a few things first. Not just the obvious “bring extra outfits” or “don’t forget water,” but the deeper truths—the ones that would’ve calmed my nerves and cracked me open even sooner.
Here’s what I learned:
- You don’t need a model’s body—just your own. Boudoir is for every body. What makes a photo powerful isn’t size or symmetry. It’s presence. It’s energy. It’s the way your laugh lines crinkle or your hips curve into the sheets. You don’t have to change a thing.
- Confidence isn’t a pre-requisite. It’s a result. Most of us walk in feeling unsure. Most of us leave taller. More open. Changed. Confidence comes from seeing yourself differently—and boudoir is a mirror like no other.
- The right photographer doesn’t just pose you—they see you. They make you feel held, not judged. They hype you up when you’re unsure, and they know when to be quiet and let you take the reins. They don’t force sexy—they invite it.
- You might cry after seeing your photos. I did. Not from embarrassment, but from awe. From the realization that I was more radiant than I ever believed—and that my softness was worth capturing.
Some things I wish I had known ahead of time:
- Wear something that makes you feel like you. This isn’t the moment to test a dominatrix alter ego—unless that’s already part of your truth. You’ll feel more relaxed in pieces that reflect your real-life sexy.
- Prep emotionally, not just physically. Sure, shave if you want. Moisturize. Stretch. But also give yourself some quiet time. Journal. Set intentions. Let the experience sink in before you even arrive.
- There will be moments that feel awkward—and that’s okay. Don’t expect every second to be effortless. Sometimes the in-between frames are the ones that sparkle the most.
KT’s Final Thought:
My advice? Go in open-hearted. Let go of perfection. Let yourself be seen—not just for how you look, but for how you feel in your own skin.
And afterward? Don’t just tuck the photos away. Revisit them. Print them. Write love notes to yourself on the back. Let them remind you of the power you hold when you stop waiting for permission.
You’re already art.
xo, KT
