BEHIND THE LENS | Styling, Direction, and a Little Unintentional Yoga

And those photos? They don’t just document rooms.

They tell the story of a home.

Of the people who imagined it, built it, and now live in it.

7:00 AM The school doors haven’t even opened yet.

My kids roll out of the car with a look that says this is a betrayal—because yes, we’re doing school breakfast today. There was no time for a hot meal when I had to turn right back around and head to the studio to pack up a trunk load of accessories, art, and one extremely helpful mom for the day’s photoshoot. Logistics were tight. As in, no room for children tight. Between the boxes of curated vases, backup pillows, styling layers, and the oversized art I swore would “definitely fit,” something had to give. So, my kids got school cereal, and I got a packed SUV with a side of guilt.

With the help of Starbucks, we braved I-45 in rush hour and arrived at the project on the VERY north side of town. And by “freshly completed,” I mean the red dirt outside is still damp and the landscaping is very much… aspirational. No matter. We’re here to shoot the inside—and we’ve got just enough energy, caffeine, and floral stems to make it work.

Tiffany, our go-to stylist and certified flower whisperer, rolls up with what must be 100 pounds of blooms packed into the back of her SUV. She couldn’t see out her rear-view mirror, I’m certain. But those stems? Gorgeous. Ethereal. Expensive. Worth it.

We met weeks ago to plan each room’s feel—romantic or moody, clean or layered—and I may or may not have followed up with a PowerPoint delineating my “vision”. Direction or overkill? Depends who you ask.

But when you’ve done this many shoots, you learn quickly: the best images don’t just happen. They’re designed.

By 9:00 the photographer, Laurie, and her assistant arrive and get to work, camera gear in tow. Maria pulls up with a second haul of accessories.  There is a flurry of unpacking activity at our staging area in the kitchen. My mom takes her post (this is her second shoot—she’s basically crew now), and with the general contractor nearby for any tweaks or light-bulb emergencies, we are officially 7 humans strong and fully caffeinated.

We start the day’s work where all good stories begin: the bar.

The photographer does a preliminary walk to get a feel for the space, while we begin the highly choreographed dance of styling. She’s setting up her camera, adjusting lighting, taking test shots. Meanwhile, Maria and mom are fussing over glassware placement, and Tiffany is casually working flower magic like she’s arranging for the Met Gala. Honestly, she could style a grocery store aisle and make it editorial.  I’m agonizing over a bowl of cherries on the onyx countertop.

Now here’s the little secret: this house wasn’t fully furnished.

What you’re about to see in photos? We brought nearly all of it—rugs, tableware, accessories, art, layers—everywhere except two rooms. This photoshoot started as a blank canvas; architecturally stunning but waiting on the furnishings. So, we continued our design vision and filled in the blanks. Gave it the finish it deserved.

Why do we take on something this ambitious? Well…because I said so.

Kidding. (Kind of.)

Truthfully, I make the call on which projects we photograph and when. That decision hinges on a few things: how well I think the space will translate in 2D, whether it adds range to our portfolio, and, of course, the client’s comfort with having their home styled and captured. This one? A no-brainer. The client's initial vision, the detailing, the materials, the architectural bones—chef’s kiss. A project like this deserved its moment.

Also: it was a 2.5 year build. I had run out of patience to wait any longer to capture the masterpiece.

Now, back to the bar. It takes almost two hours to shoot that one 32 square foot room. Should the seeded glass cabinets show liquor or wine? Are the florals too tall? Too short? Should we add a twist of lime or a cherry to the glass? Did someone drink the mocktail?

It’s a lot of fussing. But here’s the thing: the fussing matters.  The fussing is intentional. The fussing gets us to perfection.

What looks beautifully layered in person can fall totally flat in a photo. Cameras compress space, flatten dimension, and exaggerate shadows. The work that shines in real life has to be re-composed for a lens. Suddenly, you’re less interior designer, more art director—focusing on form, contrast, movement. You analyze like an art history student: angles, lines, tension, balance.

You do not just walk into a room and snap an iPhone photo.

You stage. You shift. You stand on furniture. You remove the tag from the throw blanket you brought in last-minute. And eventually, eventually, you get the shot.

Why stop at the bar?  Onward. The wine room. This is where creativity gets redefined. Not just in terms of aesthetics, but physics. For example—how do you suspend a piece of art for the camera without putting a single nail in a freshly finished wall? You volunteer as tribute, that’s how.

There’s always someone who didn’t make it to their AM workout and feels the moral obligation to hold 10 lbs of framed artwork above their head for ten full minutes. Or someone who still has enough flexibility from yoga last night to crouch, twist, and balance props while keeping every visible limb just out of frame. It’s part ballet, part circus, and 100% team spirit.

This is the kind of absurdity that makes me love what we do even more. We’re all in it—stylists, assistants, designers, photographers, moms (mine included)—collaborating to create something that honors every person who brought the space to life.

My favorite behind-the-scenes photos are always the ridiculous ones: someone duck-walking under a tripod, someone else adjusting a floral stem with chopsticks.

Design glamour, it is not. But it’s magic.

By noon, we’re ravenous. One of my most sacred responsibilities? Feeding the crew. Maria and my credit card to the rescue. We ordered out, and while waiting for DoorDash, we all loiter in the kitchen—ironically, the next room on the schedule. Ah, the kitchen. Beautiful. Massive. Impossibly detailed.

Design-wise, kitchens are dense: plumbing, cabinetry, appliances, tile, stone, hardware… and every single element was chosen for a reason. Photographing it is a high-stakes game of Where’s Waldo, except Waldo is a shadow, and he’s ruining your lighting.

Also, can we talk about styling? You want life, but not clutter. Food, but not chaos. Depth, but not distraction. Tiffany brought actual food props, which was smart.

I was getting hangry.  To spare everyone's soul, I stole a scone and ate it alone in the laundry room like a raccoon. No regrets.

Once the kitchen is done (and the scone is gone), we move into the Sala.

It’s an elegant and monumental space with built-ins flanking the fireplace—perfect for display, intimidating to style. I’ve been doing this for two decades and can style a bookshelf in my sleep. A small crowd gathers behind me like they’re watching a live performance. Cue the time-lapse for Instagram. (Yes, I wore a coordinated outfit. No, my shoes were not the right choice.)

By 3 PM, we’ve hit what I lovingly refer to as the wall. It’s like mile 19 of a marathon. Your feet revolt. Your brain forgets what "good design" means. Someone’s debating the placement of a ceramic bowl for the twelfth time and no one knows what year it is anymore.

I look at Laurie with desperate eyes, “I’m fading fast.”  “Pull it together,” she says, “We’re almost there.”

The last spaces of the day: the back stairwell and mudroom. Sounds simple, right? Think again. Styling a staircase for camera angles that make any sense is a form of sorcery I have yet to master. Plus, during design I had a brilliant idea to clad the back wall of the cubby millwork in antique mirror.  Nothing makes sense through the lens.  Equal parts charming and maddening.

At this point, our collective creative brain is officially fried. So, naturally, we turn to AI. Desperate for ideas, we plug in our dilemma and get back suggestions like “a straw hat casually draped on the bench,” “a single pillow for pop,” and—my personal favorite—an AI rendering showing our cubbies with a stack of floating books. We stare. We blink. We laugh. Maria wonders aloud how one makes books hover. I consider hiring a magician. Then we move on, resolve intact but expectations reset.

By now, the light in the Sala is glowing—low, golden, cinematic. Two sofas have arrived, perfectly timed for an impromptu headshot moment.

I’m looking haggard and 97% depleted, but Laurie’s lens does what only Laurie’s lens can do: transcend reality. Somehow, she captures me looking not just functional, but kind of ethereal? Mystical powers, that one.

And then—Maria’s moment.

It’s her first-ever professional headshot with the studio. She steps into the light, and Laurie captures her exactly as she is: grounded, gracious, composed. Every photo is a stunner. Maria looks like the designer she’s becoming—confident, radiant, and completely herself.

Laurie doesn’t just shoot rooms. She reveals the people who bring them to life. 

The next day she will create Emily’s debut moment as well.

The day winds down. We’re spared the chaos of packing up, since we’re coming back tomorrow for Round Two. Tiffany preps florals for the next day, and I huddle with the photographer to strategize angles and lighting like we’re planning a military operation. My dad shows up to chauffeur my mom home—hopefully to a foot rub and not another grocery run—and I begin the transition to my second shift: mom mode.

We’ll be back at it in the morning. More rooms, more styling, more scones. And yes, more fussing.

Because here’s the truth: photoshoots are the MOST demanding days we work. They’re also the most expensive. A full-scale, whole-home shoot can easily run upwards of $10,000. That surprises people.

But the quality of our work needs to be seen—not just told.

And those photos? They don’t just document rooms. They tell the story of a home. Of the people who imagined it, built it, and now live in it.

And stories like that? They’re worth every bit of the effort, and every penny of the cost.

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Photography: Laurie Perez

IG @laurieperezphotography

Laurie Perez is a Houston photographer based in Houston Texas specializing in magazine quality photography. Laurie's work is a mix of lifestyle and artistic imagery. She is know for being the "Queen of lighting."

Styling: Tiffany Miller

IG @tiffanymillerartandfloral

Abstract Art and Floral Design in Houston and beyond! Editorial Styling and Interior Staging. Weddings and Events.

General Contractor: Rueby Homes

Architect: Robert Dame Designs