This is one senior session in the San Diego wildflowers, one girl, one golden spring afternoon. We started with just her — the white dress, the person her family actually knows. Then the cap and gown came out for the classic frames, tossed cap included. And then the Arizona pennant, for the photo that tells everyone where she's headed next. A couple of outfit changes, zero rushing, and by dinner her mom had the whole story: who she is, what she finished, and what comes next — everything a graduation announcement could ever ask for.

One Afternoon, Start to Finish

Who — high school seniors, college grads, master's and doctorates, promotions worth framing — and yes, kindergarten graduates absolutely count
Where — their campus, a golden park, the coffee shop where they wrote every essay, the downtown streets they escape to — wherever feels like them
The cap & gown — bring it, we'll honor it — a few classic frames for the grandparents. Then it comes off and we photograph the actual personality in their outfit(s) of choice
Bring — anything that tells the story: the jersey, the instrument, the acceptance letter, the car they saved for
You get — a polished gallery, announcement-ready images, and simple ordering of framed, delivered prints and graduation announcements
Investment — sessions begin at $475

The Details

"My senior does not want to do this."
They almost never do — arriving under protest is a tradition at this point. Here's my track record: I taught school, I've raised teenagers, and I have never once lost the standoff. We keep it short, I don't say "cheese," nobody poses like a catalog, and about fifteen minutes in they forget to be embarrassed. The gallery goes straight to their phone. You'd be amazed how fast "do we have to" becomes a new profile picture.

"When should we book senior photos?"
Spring of senior year is my recommendation. Graduation announcements typically go out in May, the San Diego wildflowers are showing off, and a senior in September the year before and a senior in April are two noticeably different people. One caveat: if your school wants a yearbook photo by fall, we'll do fall — or both, and you'll have the before-and-after of the fastest year of their life. College grads and beyond: anytime the finish line's in sight, but book a few weeks ahead of the ceremony so the announcements beat the mailbox rush.

"What should seniors wear?"
Two or three outfits, one afternoon: something that's genuinely them — the outfit they'd pick for a good day, not a costume of a more formal kid — plus the cap and gown, plus anything from what's next. My what to wear guide for senior photos comes with booking, links included, and it's been vetted by actual teenagers, so nothing in it will get you an eye roll. One rule: nothing brand-new the morning of. Comfortable photographs better than crisp.

"Should we bring props?"
Only the real ones. The track spikes, the guitar, the jersey, the college pennant, the dog, the car they saved three summers for — things with a story earn their place in the frame. What I'd skip: anything bought for the photos. If it didn't matter before the session, it won't matter in the picture. (The one exception I'll always allow: the acceptance-letter or pennant reveal. That photo gets grandparents crying on schedule.)

"Do we have to do the cap and gown?"
Have to? No. Should you? Probably — hear me out. It gets one small chapter of the session: a few classic frames, one good cap toss, done in ten minutes. Grandma wants it, the announcement template wants it, and in twenty years it's the photo that proves the whole thing happened. Then it comes off, and we spend the rest of the afternoon on the actual person. You'll use both. Trust me on the split.

"Is this just for high school seniors?"
Not even close. College graduations, master's hoods, doctorates, nursing pins, promotions someone worked years for — if there were late nights involved, it counts. I've photographed kindergarten graduates in tiny caps, and I regret nothing.

"Do parents get in any photos?"
At the end, and I'll insist a little — because this milestone is yours too. Eighteen-ish years of driving to practice earns you one frame. We'll keep it quick; nobody has to say "proud" out loud. The picture will handle it.

Before You Ask —

"Our three-year-old refused to wear shoes and our seven-year-old refused to smile, and somehow the gallery looks like a magazine about a family much calmer than ours." 

— Erin, Kensington