Four bits that define me: I spend my time juggling life. I’m in the grips of early motherhood. I shoot commercial campaigns  and alongside this, I’m always trying to carve space to work on my own personal projects. All of these feed into each other really, and I think that’s kind of cool. When I was a teenager, I used the camera as a social shield to hide behind. It was disposable cameras back in those days, camera phones and digital cameras weren’t as accessible. I photographed my friends and it kind of became my role. Years on, I found myself studying photography and understanding it more as an art form and a way in which I could use my voice. 

To have honest conversations that might otherwise go unspoken, to reduce stigmas and ultimately enable people to feel less alone in their experiences. Giving people a space to share their stories with others and in doing so feel a relief and an ability to connect. There’s a lot of strength in expressing vulnerability. 

I think, essentially, it’s honesty. We’ve all grown up in a society that has such unattainable and unrealistic depictions of beauty. I think when we break it down, beauty comes from deep within and raw beauty, be it externally or internally, is finding ways to unmask ourselves. We as a society have the ability to decide what ‘flaws’ are and change the meaning of them, embracing our quirks and differences and highlighting what makes us unique. 

Throughout my teens and twenties, I’d suffered with severe acne, my self-esteem was very low and at a time when you’re most influenced and desperately trying to fit in there was no one around me I could resonate with. In the media, television, films, magazines even at school – nobody had skin like me. It ultimately made me feel isolated in my experience. And I felt there was a lot of stigmas surrounding acne. Even acne products wouldn’t show real spots, it would be one or two drawn on red dots. Fast forward a decade it seemed like we were starting to see a shift in the media with body positivity becoming a movement, skin still felt very one dimensional. If it wasn’t perfect, flawless and smooth it wasn’t beautiful. I wanted to change this and create a beauty series at heart showcasing the women of skins less often seen.   

Despite my initial perceptions, I quickly learned that not everyone was having botox and fillers for the same reasons, and not everyone suffered or felt self-conscious about their appearance before they had it either. The reasons were so varied. From preventing teeth grinding, reducing sweat, preventing aging, wanting to feel less ‘haggard and tired’ to wanting to change their face as much as physically possible without having to go under the knife. Of course, mental health and self-esteem issues did come into it, but for many it was about empowerment. Just as they might buy a new outfit or change your hair colour, they might try a bit of filler. What I initially thought was that tweakments were all about physical appearance, but I quickly learned that there was so much more to them, their consequences and implications much more wide reaching.

I think we’re open to speaking the truth and we’re learning more about different skin types, skin conditions, the effects good and bad of medication. With social media now, there’s so many bloggers out there sharing their own skin stories and helping others to embrace the skin they’re in. Even though on the one hand this shift feels positive, I feel at the same time, face tune, editing apps and even standard settings on camera phones are now blurring the skin to make it smooth – ultimately enforcing this idea of one acceptable skin type. Which, to me, feels like we’re going backwards. Wouldn’t it be great to get to a place where when we show different kinds of skin, in an editorial or advert, we don’t have to highlight it? I think photography can certainly contribute to reshaping societal beauty standards. But I think we all have a part to play and a voice we can use, so wherever I can, I’ll try and fight against these unrealistic standards.

I’m bringing up a daughter and I’d love her to feel the confidence and acceptance within herself that I never did. I think what happens in the fashion and beauty industries inevitably trickles through the mainstream, and in this process can become decontextualized and evolve into something else – for good and ill.I try not to be too fixed in my views, not to campaign as it were. Instead, I hope that these conversations give the context that’s often missing, the depth of understanding internally and externally as to why people want to achieve a particular aesthetic. With this we can have more individual empowerment and self-determination along with mutual understanding, allowing everyone to make the choices that are right for them.

As someone who always felt incredibly self-conscious within my skin, when I made ‘Epidermis’ all the women inspired me to embrace my own skin to an extent and it almost forced me to practice what I was preaching. Being comfortable enough to turn up to my own exhibition without makeup felt incredibly scary but quite empowering too. 

Absolutely, I really do find making work is a kind of therapy. I’m learning about myself through others’ experiences and connecting on a deeper level with strangers is quite special. Being a mum to two young children, dealing with tantrums over mushy bananas or a paper aeroplane that won’t fly, I think there’s a beauty in how they see the world in a more simplistic way. The endless questions, which I don’t always have the answers to - that keeps me grounded. 

I’m currently exploring a project about the women’s body just after birth. I’m quite excited to see where it goes.