Behind the Scenes of My Latest Photoshoot

The image you’ll see on my feed is one out of nearly four hundred frames shot that day. It will look effortless. It will look like a single afternoon, a soft light, a stylist who got it right on the first try. None of that is what actually happened. Behind the scenes of a photoshoot is messier, funnier, and weirdly more rewarding than the polished frame ever shows.

The pre-shoot WhatsApp group

Three days before any serious shoot, a WhatsApp group is born. Photographer, stylist, MUA, two assistants, the brand point-of-contact, and me. Mood boards drop. Reference images get torn apart and replaced. The stylist sends sourcing photos. The brand quietly removes one outfit because the founder doesn’t like the print. By the night before, we have a shot list, a wardrobe plan, and a 6am call time at a borrowed bungalow in Mohali.

I read the brief one last time, lay out my own essentials kit — fashion tape, two sets of nude underwear, hair ties, dark and nude lip liners, blotting paper, a toothbrush — and try to sleep.

5:30am — leaving Chandigarh

Cab booked the night before because no shoot has ever started on time when transport is “managed in the morning.” Coffee from a 24-hour place near Sector 35. Phone on silent. The brain is still slow.

6:45am — arrival, hair and makeup

The makeup chair is the most underrated room on set. I sit down, the MUA — a Delhi-based pro the brand has flown in — wipes my face clean and starts from zero. Two and a half hours of base, contour, brows, eyes, lashes, lips. Hair is straightened, set, then deliberately disturbed for a “lived-in” effect. We chat about everything and nothing. I learn she has shot every actress whose name I have ever Googled.

9:00am — first look

An ivory co-ord, sharp shoulders, raw-silk weave. The stylist pins the back so it sits clean on camera but I have to remember not to lean too far forward or I’ll feel a pin against my spine. The photographer takes test shots. The DOP-style assistant adjusts a reflector. The brand point-of-contact stands behind the monitor, frowning, then nodding.

The choreography of a frame

People imagine modelling as standing still. It is closer to dance. Within a single ten-minute setup, I will probably try forty-five micro-movements:

• Chin one degree down, eye line just above the lens.
• Weight onto the back leg, front leg loose at the knee.
• Shoulder blades pulled gently down, not back.
• Breath out, very slowly, on the count the photographer gives me.

Between sets, I shake out my hands and re-set. The photographer calls out one specific instruction at a time — never more than one. Good photographers know that the brain can hold one cue cleanly. Two cues collapse into a stiff frame.

11:30am — second outfit, the technical one

A heavy hand-embroidered jacket with a tightly fitted bustier underneath. Beautiful on camera. Punishing on body. The stylist warns me there will be five-minute breaks between every setup. I wear it for two hours. By minute ninety, my back is on fire and my smile is concentrating.

The crew people you don’t see

The wardrobe assistant who hands me water without being asked. The light boy who repositions a panel before I even notice the shadow has shifted. The driver who has been waiting in the courtyard since 6am with the AC running so the next change of clothes doesn’t crease. Behind the scenes of a fashion shoot is mostly these people, and the day works because they care about details no one will ever credit them for.

1:30pm — lunch, on a plate, sitting down

Brand catered. Dal, rice, sabzi, salad, a small bowl of curd. I eat half. Eating fully right before a shoot is an amateur mistake — your stomach photographs differently, and your energy drops in the post-lunch hour. I learnt that the hard way on a campaign in Goa where I had two parathas and felt every single one for the next four shots.

2:30pm to 6:00pm — the bulk of the day

Three more outfits. Two more locations within the bungalow — the courtyard, the staircase, an upstairs bedroom redressed by the art team to look like a writing studio. The light keeps changing. The camera keeps adjusting. I stop checking the monitor after the third look — it pulls focus and tightens my face.

Halfway through, the brand decides they want a Reels-friendly horizontal video. The photographer pivots. I do five takes of walking towards the camera with a quiet half-smile. Take four is the one. We don’t know it yet — we’ll only know when we watch the playback over chai.

7:00pm — golden hour exteriors

The DOP-style assistant has been watching the sun like a hawk. We rush outside for the last twelve minutes of usable light. Garden, ivory dupatta, a single hand on a wrought-iron gate. Six frames. Two are extraordinary.

8:15pm — wrap

I change into joggers and a hoodie, take off the lashes, hug the MUA, thank the photographer, and quietly tip the spot boy. The cab home is silent. My face hurts from smiling. My back hurts from holding posture. My phone is at 9% because I forgot the charger.

What you’ll see on Instagram

Three weeks later, you’ll scroll past one image on the brand’s grid, hold your thumb for a second, double-tap, scroll on. That image — that single frame — cost twelve hours of work, one stylist’s flight, three crew members, two locations, and a thousand small decisions. Behind the scenes of any successful photoshoot is exactly this — boring, intricate, beautiful work. Honestly, it is my favourite kind of day.