For This International Women’s Day We Did A Special Photoshoot With Women That Represent People With Disabilities And Visible Differences

International Women’s Day (IWD) shows up every March 8 with big energy: purple graphics, inspiring captions, and the occasional corporate cupcake that somehow costs $11. But if we’re being honest, a day about women’s achievements and equality should also include something the internet can’t resist: images. Not the “smiling stock-photo diversity” kind. Real imagesof real womenwho live at the intersection of womanhood, disability, and visible difference.

That’s why we planned a special photoshoot featuring women with disabilities and visible differenceswomen who are too often edited out, cropped out, or treated like a “before” photo in someone else’s “after” story. This wasn’t a pity party. It wasn’t a miracle montage. It was a celebration of style, power, humor, and presencecaptured with accessibility and respect baked into every step.

Why This Photoshoot Matters (And Why It’s Not “Extra”)

Disability is not rare, and it’s not niche. In the United States, more than 1 in 4 adults reports having a disability. That’s not a tiny subculturethat’s a major part of our communities, workplaces, families, and friend groups. Women are also disproportionately represented among adults with disabilities, and many women navigate disability alongside caregiving responsibilities, workplace barriers, health inequities, and bias about what “professional” or “beautiful” is supposed to look like.

Then there’s visible difference: scars, limb differences, vitiligo, alopecia, facial differences, burn marks, mobility aids, insulin pumps, hearing devices, prostheticsfeatures that make strangers stare like they’re trying to read a billboard from six inches away. Visible difference isn’t a character flaw. It’s a reality. And in media, visibility shapes what society considers normal, desirable, and worthy of being centered.

A photoshoot can’t fix every systemic barrier. But it can stop contributing to them. It can replace “hidden” with “here,” and “excluded” with “included.” It can show that representation isn’t charity; it’s accuracy.

Representation Done Right: What We Refused To Do

1) We didn’t turn anyone into a motivational poster

There’s a reason disabled creators have criticized “inspiration porn”content that objectifies disabled people to make nondisabled audiences feel warm and accomplished for witnessing someone else’s existence. If the emotional takeaway is “Wow, I can do my taxes now because she uses a wheelchair,” we’ve officially missed the point.

Our rule: the subject is the subject. Not a prop. Not a lesson. Not your personal gratitude journal prompt.

2) We didn’t treat disability or difference like something to erase

No “Can we hide the cane?” No “What if we crop out the prosthetic?” No “Could makeup cover the vitiligo?” (Unless that’s what the model wanted, because bodily autonomy isn’t a themeit’s the law of the land on set.)

3) We didn’t default to one “correct” language

Some people prefer person-first language (“woman with a disability”). Some prefer identity-first language (“disabled woman”). Some prefer very specific terms, and many have strong feelings because language has been used to minimize, stereotype, or medicalize them. We asked each participant what they preferredand then we used it consistently in captions and promos.

How We Planned an Inclusive Photoshoot (Without Making It Weird)

Inclusivity isn’t a “vibe.” It’s logistics. The most respectful thing you can do is remove frictionphysical, sensory, and socialso the models can focus on showing up as themselves instead of spending the whole day solving access problems.

Step 1: Casting with intention (and paying like you mean it)

Representation starts before the camera ever turns on. We worked to cast women across:

• Different disability experiences (mobility, sensory, chronic illness, neurodiversity, mental health, etc.)
• Different visible differences (scars, limb differences, skin conditions, facial differences, hair loss, and more)
• Different ages, body types, races, and gender expressions

And yeseveryone was paid. “Exposure” is what happens when you forget sunscreen, not a compensation plan.

Step 2: Accessibility check-in (before shoot day, not during the chaos)

We sent a short, respectful access questionnaire. Not a medical interrogationjust practical questions:

• Do you need step-free access, elevators, wider pathways, or seating breaks?
• Do you prefer captions, ASL interpretation, written instructions, or quiet communication?
• Are there sensory considerations (lighting, sound, scents, crowds)?
• Are there medication schedules, fatigue limits, or flexible timing needs?
• Any mobility device handling preferences? (Spoiler: don’t touch without permission.)

We also planned communication to be as effective as it is with nondisabled participants: clear direction, visual references, and support for different hearing/vision needs when requested. Accessibility isn’t a luxury add-onit’s part of doing business responsibly.

Step 3: The set itself (aka: the “no obstacles” obstacle course)

A truly inclusive set is boring in the best way. No one should have to “overcome” your venue.

• Physical access: step-free entry, accessible restrooms, uncluttered pathways, chairs everywhere, and a calm waiting area.
• Lighting and sound: options for softer lighting, breaks from flash, and a plan to reduce sudden loud noises.
• Scent awareness: fragrance-free or low-scent products whenever possible (hair spray can hit like a fog machine with ambition).
• Time design: buffer time built inbecause “we’re running late” hits differently when someone schedules energy like a budget.

Step 4: Hair, makeup, and wardrobecollaboration, not correction

Hair and makeup can be empowering, but it can also feel like someone is trying to “fix” you. We framed it as choice:

• Do you want scars highlighted, softened, or untouched?
• Do you want vitiligo celebrated with shimmeror left entirely natural?
• Do you want to show assistive devices as part of your look?
• Do you have skin sensitivities or sensory concerns with certain products?

Wardrobe was chosen with movement, comfort, and personal style in mindincluding adaptive clothing options and styling that works with devices (not against them).

Behind the Lens: How We Shot It So It Felt Powerful (Not Performative)

Pose direction that centers agency

We treated each participant like the lead of her own story. That means:

• Asking what she wants to communicate before suggesting poses
• Offering pose options instead of physically adjusting bodies
• Building concepts around identity and craft (artist, founder, advocate, mom, engineer, musiciannot “disabled person #3”)

Mobility aids and devices were stylednot hidden

A wheelchair can be sleek. A cane can be iconic. A prosthetic can be customized and expressive. A hearing aid can be a design object. We didn’t treat devices like a mistake in the frame. We treated them like part of the truthand often, part of the style.

Retouching rules: consent first, aesthetics second

Our retouching policy was simple:

• Remove temporary things only if the subject wants (a stray lint piece, a sudden pimple, a mystery bruise from the coffee table).
• Never erase disability markers, scars, skin texture, or devices by default.
• Share selects with the subject before final publishing when possible.

What We Wrote Matters Too: Captions, Alt Text, and Avoiding Cringe

A photo can be inclusive and still get ruined by a caption like: “She never let her disability stop her from SLAYING.” (Somewhere, a copyeditor just fell to their knees.)

Better caption strategy

• Lead with the person: her work, her style, her point of view.
• Let disability be present without being the punchline: “Disabled fashion designer and founder…” works when it’s relevant and self-identified.
• Skip the savior narrative: “We gave her a chance” is not the flex you think it is.
• Be specific instead of sentimental: highlight achievements and context.

Alt text that actually helps

If you publish this story online, accessibility includes describing images for screen reader users. Good alt text is concise, accurate, and centered on what’s important in the image:

• Who is in the photo and what they’re doing
• Key visual elements (outfit, setting, expression) that carry meaning
• Visible devices or differences when relevant and respectful (especially if the story is about visibility)

Shot Concepts That Celebrate Disability and Visible Difference

Here are a few concepts that worked because they weren’t about “overcoming.” They were about presence.

The Power Portrait

Clean background, strong posture, direct eye contact. Minimal props. The message: “I don’t need a storyline to be worth looking at.”

The Hands-at-Work Frame

Close-ups of craft: painting, coding, sewing, cooking, signing, building. This format highlights expertise and shifts the viewer’s focus from “What happened to her?” to “What is she creating?”

The Street-Style Walk

Motion shotsrolling, walking, striding, moving. Mobility is not a single aesthetic. Neither is femininity. Street-style frames normalize devices in public life and make “access” feel like a fashion-forward fact, not a special request.

Behind-the-Scenes Experiences (Extra )

The most memorable part of the day wasn’t a single “perfect” photoit was the shift in atmosphere once people realized the set was designed for them, not for an imaginary “default body.” The first moment happened at check-in. Instead of a frantic scramble“Wait, where’s the ramp?”there was just… flow. A model who uses a wheelchair rolled in without needing to announce herself like a fire drill. Another participant, who manages chronic pain and fatigue, saw the seating area and quietly said, “Thank you,” like we’d handed her something rare: permission to exist without performing resilience.

In hair and makeup, the conversations were small but powerful. One woman with vitiligo joked that she’d spent years trying to convince people the lighter patches weren’t “contagious,” and now she was deciding whether to add glitter to them. Another participant with alopecia talked about how strangers often treated her scalp like a public forumeither staring or offering unsolicited miracle oils. In the chair, she got to choose how she wanted to show up: bold earrings, sharp brows, and a look that said, “Yes, I’m feminine. No, I’m not here for your medical curiosity.”

On set, direction mattered. The photographer didn’t bark vague commands like “Be brave!” (What does brave look like, a smoky eye?) Instead, she offered concrete options: “Do you want this shot to feel playful, serious, or defiant?” That one changechoiceshifted the entire dynamic. A participant with a prosthetic leg asked if we could capture a frame that showed the design details, because she’d customized it herself. Five minutes later, the prosthetic wasn’t something to hide; it was a centerpiece, like a statement boot you’d build an outfit around.

The language on set evolved in real time. Someone casually used a phrase that landed wrong, and instead of an awkward spiral, there was a quick, respectful correction. No shame theater, no “I’m the worst person alive” monologuejust a simple “Thanks for telling me,” and moving forward. That’s what inclusion looks like when it’s not performative: people learning without making the learning the main event.

Later, during review, we had the retouching conversationalways a moment where good intentions can go off the rails. We didn’t assume. We asked. One model wanted a temporary bruise minimized because it distracted from the styling; another asked us not to smooth anything because she was tired of seeing disability and difference filtered into invisibility. When we shared early selects, a participant with a facial scar smiled and said, “This is the first time I’ve seen a photo of myself online where I look like meand that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” By the end of the day, the room felt lighter, not because anyone’s life was suddenly easy, but because the images being created weren’t asking anyone to shrink.

Conclusion: Make the Camera a Door, Not a Gate

International Women’s Day is about visibility, equity, and action. A photoshoot that centers women with disabilities and visible differences can be a genuine contributionif it’s built on access, consent, and real representation instead of a feel-good storyline.

If you’re planning your own IWD shoot, remember the core rule: don’t “feature” disabled women like a special edition. Include them like the standard. Because they already are.