For years, I have stood in the steady, controlled environment behind my Nikon D850. From that vantage point, I see everything: the way the light from a strobe catches the curve of a shoulder, the exact moment a person lets go of their breath and settles into their skin, and the spark of confidence that ignites when a client finally sees what I see. I have built my career on the belief that everyone possesses a magnificent essence that deserves to be captured. However, I realized recently that while I speak the language of empowerment, I had yet to fully immerse myself in the vulnerability I ask of every person who enters my studio in Barrie. To truly understand the courage it takes to bare one’s soul (and skin), I decided to trade places. I became my own client for a self-portrait dudeoir session.
The transition was not as simple as flipping the camera around. It required a complete dismantling of my professional armor. As a photographer, the camera is a shield; it is a tool of observation and a barrier that keeps me in a position of authority. Stripping away that shield to stand exposed in the studio was a humbling, eye-opening experience. I wanted to feel the weight of the silence between clicks. I wanted to experience the phantom itch of wanting to adjust a stray hair or fix a pose, only to realize I had to trust my own technical setup and my own body to tell the story.
The Reality of the Mirror at Sixty-Three
Before we dive into the images, I want to be incredibly candid with you. I am sixty-three years old. I am acutely aware that I am no Adonis. Like many of the people I photograph (regardless of their gender or background) I have a body that has lived a full life. It carries the marks of time, the stories of decades, and the physical reality of aging. Stepping in front of the lens for a session at this stage of my life felt like a direct confrontation with my own ego. We live in a world that often ignores the beauty of aging, choosing instead to celebrate a very narrow, youthful ideal. By choosing to do this now, I wanted to prove to myself (and to you) that worth is not tied to a flat stomach or a youthful glow.
Standing there, I found the experience to be both empowering and enlightening. It was empowering because I realized that I still have the right to take up space and be seen. It was enlightening because it forced me to practice the self-compassion I preach to my clients every single day. I had to look at my sixty-three-year-old frame and see the magnificent person I talk about in my signature quote. It was a journey from self-consciousness to self-acceptance. Whether we call it boudoir or dudeoir, the core truth remains: it is not about being a Greek god; it is about being a human being who is comfortable in their own skin.
The Power of the Kilt and the Work Boot
The first segment of the shoot was designed to bridge the gap between my everyday identity and the artistic vulnerability of the session. I chose to wear my kilt and work boots, sans shirt, to ground the session in a sense of heritage and ruggedness. There is something inherently powerful about the kilt; it carries a weight and a history that commands a certain posture.
As I stood there, I felt the familiar cool air of the studio against my skin, but it felt different this time. Usually, I am the one checking the shadows on the backdrop or adjusting the octobox to ensure the light is falling perfectly. This time, I had to stay still. I had to feel where the light was hitting me without looking at the monitor. This stage of the session taught me about the physical presence required in a shoot. It is not just about looking good; it is about feeling the space you occupy. The ruggedness of the boots against the traditional fold of the kilt created a contrast that felt both protective and revealing. It was the first step in shedding the photographer persona and embracing the subject.
Facing the Absolute Vulnerability
The second phase of the session moved into a space of much deeper exposure. This is the point in a session where the heart rate usually quickens for a client. For my own version, I opted for a composition involving a cowboy hat, using it as both a prop and a focal point while my head remained bowed. This pose was about the internal dialogue we have with ourselves when we are at our most exposed.
Standing in a state of near-total nudity, with only a hat and a carefully placed hand for cover, I felt the internal editor in my brain start to scream. I began to notice things I never notice when I am dressed: the way my muscles tensed, the rhythm of my breathing, and the sheer mental effort it takes to remain still and vulnerable. This is the moment I often tell my clients to "just be." I realized in that moment how difficult just being actually is. It is an active choice to remain present when every instinct tells you to hide or cover up. By bowing my head, I felt a sense of privacy within the public act of being photographed. It was a lesson in the psychological safety I must provide for every person who walks through my doors.
The Strength in the Unseen
We often focus so much on the face because it is how we communicate with the world, but there is a profound story told by the back. For the third setup, I turned away from the lens entirely. A full shot of the back, from the shoulders down to the heels, removes the ability to use facial expressions as a crutch. You cannot smile your way through a shot of your back; you have to rely entirely on the lines of your body and the honesty of your form.
As I felt the camera capture my back and butt, I realized how much we neglect the parts of ourselves we cannot see in the mirror every day. There is a strange, quiet strength in the spine and the musculature of the rear. Even at sixty-three, there is a landscape of history written on a person's back. It felt like an act of reclamation. I was no longer worried about how my eyes looked or if my jaw was clenched. I was simply a human form in a space, defined by light and shadow. This part of the session reinforced my belief that every inch of a person is a masterpiece, not just the parts we are trained to present to the world.
Reflection and The Thinker
To conclude the session, I wanted to pay homage to classical art while leaning into the technical depths of black and white photography. Using the pose of Rodin’s The Thinker at a 45 degree angle allowed me to merge my love for art history with the raw emotion of the day. This shot was captured in deep, high-contrast black and white to emphasize the texture of the skin and the tension in the pose.
Sitting in that position, lost in thought, the session finally clicked into place. I was not just a photographer playing dress-up; I was a person confronting his own image. The 45 degree angle provided a sense of depth and perspective that felt like looking into a mirror and seeing a stranger who was also a friend. The deep blacks of the shadows felt like a warm blanket, while the highlights carved out the reality of my physical self. It was the perfect ending to a journey of self-discovery. This was the moment I truly felt the enlightenment I was seeking: the realization that my age is not a hurdle to beauty, but a contributor to it.
What This Means for My Clients
So, why did I do this? Why subject myself to the very things that make people nervous? I did it because I never want to be a photographer who directs from a place of detachment. I want to lead from a place of empathy. Having been on the other side of the lens, I now have a much deeper appreciation for the following elements of the experience:
- The Courage of the First Step: I now know exactly how much mental energy it takes to take off that first layer of clothing and stand in the studio light, especially when you do not feel like a traditional model.
- The Importance of Direction: I realized how much I rely on the voice of the photographer to feel secure. Silence can feel heavy, so I will be even more intentional about giving encouraging, clear feedback during our sessions.
- The Beauty of the Imperfect: When I looked at my own images, I did not see the flaws I expected to see. I saw a person who was brave enough to show up. I saw the magnificent person I already am, just as I promise my clients they will see themselves.
- The Technical Trust: Knowing that my gear was capturing the truth made me realize that technical excellence is the foundation of artistic freedom. When the gear is reliable, the soul can play.
This session was a reminder that the lens does not judge; it only confirms worth. It does not look for reasons to criticize; it looks for light. Whether you are wearing a kilt, a cowboy hat, or nothing at all, the camera sees the truth of your existence. At sixty-three, I have finally learned that the most attractive thing anyone can wear is their own skin, comfortably and without apology.
I invite you to visit my studio in Barrie, Ontario, not just because I have the technical skills to take a great photo, but because I have stood where you will stand. I have felt the nerves, the cool air, and the eventual rush of empowerment that comes when you stop hiding and start being. I am Rab Carrigan, and I do not photograph who you think you should be; I photograph the magnificent person you already are.
Your Turn to Step Into the Light
If reading about my experience has sparked even a small flicker of curiosity or a desire to see yourself through a different lens, I want you to know that my door is open to everyone. It does not matter your age, your gender, or how you feel about your body today. My studio is a sanctuary where the only requirement is that you show up as you are.
We often wait for a "perfect" moment to document our lives (waiting until we lose ten pounds, waiting until we feel more confident, or waiting for a special occasion) but the truth is that your worth is not a future event. You are magnificent right now, in this very moment, and that is what deserves to be celebrated.
I would love to invite you for a relaxed consultation at my studio in Barrie. We can sit down, have a coffee, and talk about what a session could look like for you. There is no pressure and no expectation to be anything other than yourself. Let’s work together to create images that serve as a permanent reminder of the incredible person you already are.
Ready to start the conversation? You can reach out to me directly through my website at www.rabcarriganphotography.ca or send me a message through my social media. Let’s capture the light together.