Can’t Take Good Portraits? The missing ingredient is comfort
One of the biggest problems photographers run into, especially newer ones, is that they underestimate how long it takes for someone to feel comfortable in front of them.
They book the shoot, find a location, choose a camera, think about the light, maybe put together a moodboard, then assume the person in front of them will just arrive ready to perform. Sometimes that happens, especially with experienced professional models, because they are used to the environment. They know the rhythm of a set, they understand what a camera is asking of them, and they have built the skill of stepping into that space quickly.
But for most people, that is not how it works.
Being photographed can feel strange, exposed and unnatural. You are asking someone to be looked at closely, to move their body, to take direction, to trust your taste, and to believe you are going to represent them well. That is not a small thing, especially when they do not really know you yet.
This is where a lot of photographers get it wrong.
They think the shoot starts when they press the shutter. Really, the shoot starts much earlier. It starts in the first message, the way you explain the idea, the references you send, how clear the plan feels, and whether the person on the other end feels like you have actually thought about their experience.
Research backs this up in a pretty brutal way. Princeton psychologists Janine Willis and Alexander Todorov found that people can begin forming impressions of a stranger’s face in around one tenth of a second, and those quick impressions can shape how trustworthy, likeable, competent or approachable someone feels. In other words, people are reading you almost immediately. Your tone, language, organisation, body language and the way you carry yourself are shaping the shoot before the first frame is taken.
Sources:
Princeton University: Snap judgments decide a face’s character, psychologist finds + PubMed: Making up your mind after a 100-ms exposure to a face + Association for Psychological Science: How Many Seconds to a First Impression?
But comfort takes longer than a first impression.Trust is not instant just because someone agreed to turn up.
That is why the first part of a shoot matters so much.
A lot of photographers want to get straight into the “good shots,” but the first 15 or 20 minutes are often where the real work begins. That is where someone learns how you direct. They learn whether you are calm. They learn whether you are paying attention. They learn whether you correct things respectfully, whether you make them feel awkward, and whether they can relax around you.
There is research around this too. Arthur Aron’s work on interpersonal closeness found that structured, reciprocal self-disclosure over about 45 minutes can significantly increase feelings of closeness between strangers. Obviously, a shoot is not the place to sit someone down and interrogate them with personal questions, but the principle matters. Comfort is built through time, exchange, listening and gradual trust, not by demanding instant vulnerability from someone because the light is good.
Sources:Arthur Aron et al.: The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness + Greater Good in Action, Berkeley: 36 Questions for Increasing Closeness
If you rush that part, you usually pay for it in the images.
The body might look great, but the face looks unsure. Or the face looks beautiful, but the pose from the neck down feels awkward, tense or disconnected. I have had models show me this for years in different ways. They like one part of the image, but something else feels off.
Most of the time, they can feel it before they have the language for it.
That is where microexpressions matter.
Tiny shifts in the face tell you more than people realise. The tightness around the eyes. The jaw not quite releasing. The slight tension around the temples. The mouth not relaxing properly. The small expression that says, “I am doing what I was told, but I do not feel fully comfortable here.”
You can have the right lens, the right light, the right location and the right person, and still make a flat image if the person in front of you does not feel good in the moment.
That is not always a talent problem.
Often, it is a rapport problem.
This is especially important for newer photographers because they usually have less technical confidence, less directing experience, and less authority in the room. When they get nervous, they often talk too much, over-explain, or give direction that is too vague to be useful.
“Just move around a bit.”
“Do something with your hands.”
“Look natural.”
That is not really direction. It is asking the model to solve the photographer’s uncertainty.
Good direction starts earlier than that. It starts by creating a space where the person feels safe enough to take direction in the first place. Amy Edmondson’s work on psychological safety defines it as a shared belief that a space is safe for interpersonal risk-taking. That matters on a shoot, because being photographed is a kind of risk. Someone is letting you direct how they look, how they move, and how they are represented. If they feel embarrassed, judged, rushed or unclear on what is expected, they are far less likely to give you anything open, expressive or vulnerable.
Source: Amy Edmondson: Psychological Safety and Learning Behavior in Work Teams
This is especially obvious in swimwear, which is a lot of what I am known for, but it applies to portraits, fashion, editorial, music, campaigns, model tests, personal branding and pretty much any kind of people-focused work.
Swimwear just makes the stakes more obvious.
There is less to hide behind. Less styling. Less structure. Less room for someone to feel protected by the outfit. If the model feels uncomfortable, over-watched, unsure or exposed, you will see it immediately.
That is why I never think of swimwear as “just shoot someone at the beach.”
The whole thing is built on trust.
And trust does not magically appear because you brought a camera.
A few years ago, when I started to get more known for swimwear work, I had a lot of models reaching out and offering to pay me for shoots. I found that interesting, because there were plenty of photographers who would shoot them for free.
So I ran a competition to try and understand why.
The answer was a bit confronting. A lot of the girls were not just paying for images. They were paying for safety. They were paying for a photographer who clearly cared about duty of care, boundaries, consent, and making sure the shoot did not feel like someone was just trying to get access to them.
That changed the way I thought about everything.
Because it made me realise that what I had been talking about openly, duty of care, communication, image consent, comfort, was not just a moral position. It was part of why people trusted me enough to shoot.
That also makes sense when you look at the wider modelling industry. Models have good reason to be cautious. Model Alliance has built programs around harassment and abuse prevention in fashion, and even something as basic as privacy on set has been a major issue. New York Fashion Week only introduced private changing areas for models in 2018, after concerns around invasive photography and lack of privacy backstage. Safety and comfort are not vague emotional extras. They are part of the working conditions.
Sources: Model Alliance: RESPECT Program + Time: Models at New York Fashion Week Will Have Private Changing Areas for First Time Ever + Vogue: Ending Harassment Backstage Is Becoming a NYFW Priority
So you need to build comfort into the shoot.
That might mean sending a clear moodboard before the day, explaining what you are trying to make, keeping the styling simple, checking comfort levels, starting with easier poses, or spending a few minutes talking before you lift the camera.
None of that is wasted time.
It is part of the shoot.
You ask what someone is comfortable with. You understand their boundaries. You look at the references they send you, not just the ones you want to shoot. You pay attention to their age, experience, confidence, agency context, and what kind of work actually makes sense for them.
You do not assume that because someone has shot something before, they want to shoot it with you.
That is a big one.
Just because someone has done swimwear, lingerie, nudity, implied work, or anything more vulnerable in the past does not mean they owe you the same access. Different photographer, different context, different level of trust.
On set, I talk a lot. I tell stories. I make jokes. I keep the mood light. I keep people moving so they are not stuck in their head thinking, “Do I look bad in this?”
Sometimes distraction is useful. Not in a manipulative way, just in a human way. If someone is thinking too hard about how they look, they usually stop moving naturally.
I also ask questions:
Are you cold?
Do you like this look?
Are you feeling too vulnerable here?
Do you want to change anything?
What would make this feel easier?
Is this spot too public? Do you want to move somewhere quieter?
Sometimes the issue is nerves. Sometimes it is the outfit. Sometimes it is that there are twenty people staring at them on a beach. Sometimes the location is too public, the styling is wrong, or the photographer has pushed too quickly into something that needed more time.
A lot of this is avoidable.
Pick a quieter spot. Start with something less vulnerable. Let someone warm into the shoot. Do not begin at the most exposed part of the concept. Give the person room to arrive before asking them to perform.
The mistake is thinking rapport is separate from photography, as if connection is just a nice extra if you have time. It is not. It is one of the main things that determines whether the work feels alive or awkward.
Professional models can often bridge that gap because they know how to work through uncertainty. They can bring shape, expression and movement even when the photographer is not giving much back. But if you rely on that too much, you do not actually learn how to direct. You just learn how to benefit from someone else’s experience.
For everyone else, especially newer models, clients, couples, creators, or people who are not used to being photographed, the photographer has to take more responsibility.
You need to understand that the first part of the session is not just warm-up. It is where trust is built. It is where the subject starts to understand that you are not judging them, rushing them, or waiting for them to magically know what to do.
This is one of the biggest missing ingredients in portrait photography.
Most photographers think they need better lenses, better lighting, better locations, or better talent. Sometimes they do. But often, what they actually need is better communication, better pacing, and a clearer understanding of how people behave when they feel exposed.
Because if the person in front of you does not feel comfortable, your direction will not land properly.
And if your direction does not land, the shoot becomes harder than it needs to be.
I have learnt this from my own mistakes, from watching other people get it wrong, from talking to models, from listening when something did not feel right, and from slowly building a process that helps people feel safer, clearer and more involved.
I do not want photographers to have to make all the same mistakes to learn it.
That is why I am running Working With Talent: What Models Aren’t Telling You with OfOliver this Thursday night.
I will be breaking down the method I have developed to get great shots out of anyone, from outreach and briefing through to comfort, boundaries, direction and image consent.
I will also have three models joining me to talk honestly about their experience on the other side of the camera, what makes them feel good on set, what makes them cautious, and what photographers often miss.
This workshop is part of From Portfolio to Campaign, a larger series built to help photographers create a body of work that gets them paid, booked and busy.
Come along Thursday night. If you want better portraits, you need to get better at people.
