Take photos of your vitiligo

Last Updated on 1st November 2024 by Caroline Haye

Get some shots of those spots!

Regular visitors to this blog will be familiar with the topics I usually cover. They mainly revolve around the causes of vitiligo, its treatments and the various ways it affects people’s lives. But in this post I want to discuss something a bit different. I want to explain why I think it’s a good idea to take photos of your vitiligo. Of course, you may already enjoy sharing pictures of yourself – including your white patches – on social media… In which case you won’t need any encouragement from the likes of me. But, if you are among the many people who feel self-conscious about their skin and avoid being on the wrong end of a camera at all costs, you might need some convincing to take a few more shots of those spots.

It’s hard to believe, in this day and age, that anyone should need encouragement to get in front of a camera. In the 200 years since the invention of photography, we have never been so in love with our own image as we are today. After all, this is the age of the selfie. The evolution of humans and machines has seemingly merged to produce completely new behaviours. For one, a compulsion to record and share every aspect of our lives in minute detail. A compulsion that is almost part of our DNA. And some would say that social media has turned narcissism into an art form. So, are there even any camera-shy people left on the planet? Well yes – me, for one. And I’m sure I’m not alone. So why should that be? And why should it matter?

Why are some of us camera-shy?

Why are some of us camera-shy? Well, some people just don’t like having their picture taken. It’s as simple as that. They don’t have to have a reason. It’s probably just a question of how introverted or outgoing the individual is. My grandfather hated being photographed. In fact, he always used to stick out his tongue at the last moment to spoil the shot. (And, believe me, that was generations before the now familiar pose became cool.)

Then there was my mother. Despite being very attractive, she was so self-conscious about photographs that she’d squint into the lens, assuming an expression that can only be described as eating-a-raw-onion. So, maybe my general aversion to cameras runs in the family. (I’m the sort of person who instinctively ducks out of impromptu group photos, only to feel disappointed afterwards when I look for my face and don’t see it. How irrational is that?)

Staying out of the spotlight

More likely, though, my habitual camera avoidance dates back to childhood… To my first realisation that something odd was happening to my skin. Portions of it were turning pure white. And, worse still, some of my eyelashes were doing the same. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. But what I did know was that it wasn’t happening to anyone else around me. So I felt freakish and ashamed. And consequently, from an early age, I learned to hide my vitiligo well and stay in the background.

Keeping out of the spotlight was part of my coping strategy. At least it was, until I was old enough to wear make-up. At that point I became quite skilled at applying cosmetics and regained much of my confidence. But I still never felt completely at ease if a camera was pointed in my direction, just in case it found a chink in my cosmetic armour. And, even now that I hardly have any traces of vitiligo left, camera avoidance has remained a habit that’s hard to break.

Taking photos does not mean you have to share them

The lens-loving divas out there will no doubt find this hilarious. But, when you think about it, there is something quite intimate – you may even feel, invasive – about having your image captured. Whether frozen in time by a gadget or interpreted by the eye of an artist, our image can feel like a fragile thing. And allowing someone to copy it for public scrutiny makes some people feel vulnerable. Seen in that light, it’s not so hard to understand how some primitive cultures supposedly feared that cameras might steal their souls.

Of course it’s not just individuals with vitiligo, or other visible differences, that may prefer not to be photographed. Perceived body issues, low self-esteem and the unrealistic standards of beauty set by the media all play a part. Social media, in particular, has created a parallel universe populated by highly-edited profile pictures, over-stylised vloggers and images of exaggerated perfection. You might wonder what mere mortal would dare to show their real face in such an environment.

Having said that, there is a more familiar, human-friendly universe that exists alongside that one. Thankfully, not everyone on social media chooses to present an air-brushed illusion of themselves to the world. Many feel empowered – and, in turn, empower others – by just being themselves, warts (or white patches) and all. And, in my opinion, this is a trend that provides a welcome antidote to the cult of fake perfection. It reminds us that artificial notions of beauty are unimportant, not to mention highly subjective, and that being real is worth infinitely more than pretending to be “perfect”, whatever the prevailing idea of that may be.

Photography helps us discover new ways of defining beauty

Not only is it OK not to conform to conventional notions of aesthetics, but photography helps us to discover new ways of defining beauty. And I’m not just talking about models like Winnie Harlow. You only need to look at Elisabeth van Aalderen’s or Brock Elbank’s photographic portraits of ordinary people with vitiligo to understand what I mean.

Of course, appreciating the beauty in someone else’s vitiligo is not the same as seeing it in oneself. So I’m not suggesting you will necessarily want to put yours on public show. I’m just saying that there are some practical reasons – and some less practical ones – for taking snaps of your pale spots.

10 reasons to take photos of your vitiligo

1. Images of vitiligo can be fascinating and quite educational. The high res images that modern phones produce allow you to see details that aren’t always visible with the naked eye.
2. Taking clear pictures of your vitiligo on a regular basis gives you an accurate record of any changes as they occur. And this is a big help when it comes to your awareness of what factors might be aggravating or improving your condition.
3. Without a photographic record for comparison, it is surprisingly difficult to remember the size, shape, location and exact shade of each vitiligo lesion, meaning that you end up second guessing what is going on. And that can be disconcerting.
4. Having photos (with dates) to show your doctor may also be useful if you ever need to demonstrate that your vitiligo has altered or has become active, for example, after a period of stability. It’s quicker, easier and more accurate than trying to describe these sorts of changes in words.
5. Seeing improvements in your vitiligo over a period of time, and being able to compare photos, is SO exciting. Believe me, you would not want to miss out on that experience.
6. You may be fearful that your photos will show your vitiligo getting worse instead of better… Or just staying the same. But isn’t it better to be aware instead of sticking your head in the sand? At least, then, you know where you stand and don’t have to rely on memory or guesswork.
7. As long as you take pictures, you can choose whether to look at them or not. But, if you don’t take any, you won’t have the luxury of making that choice. (I sincerely wish I had taken clear shots of all my white patches before they started to re-pigment. As it is, I only have a partial record of my recovery. I never truly believed I would improve, so I didn’t anticipate that having some “before” shots might be a good idea.)
8. Your vitiligo photos may also encourage others. You never know when someone else might appreciate your reassurance or support. And sharing your photos with them might be a way of helping.
9. Photographs can often be a pleasant surprise, restoring your sense of perspective. They allow you to see yourself as others see you instead of how you look in a mirror. And if you were enjoying yourself at the time the shot was taken, you will see that your smile and personality are what people really notice about you – not your pale patches.
10. Finally, let’s not forget that photographs don’t just serve a practical purpose. They are mainly about fun, friendship and capturing memories.

Examples of vitiligo photos

To sum up, it’s not uncommon for vitiligo, or any other skin condition, to undermine a person’s self-confidence to a point where they avoid being caught on camera or even taking selfies. But having some photographs of your vitiligo can be incredibly useful. You don’t have to share them. You don’t even have to look at them if you don’t want to. But what if you do want to, or need to, at some point and you didn’t have the foresight to take any?

I never took any shots of my vitiligo until after I started to re-pigment – at which point it was too late to get some accurate “before” shots. I also had no clue back then how to re-size images and ended up losing all the high res originals. But at least I did keep some sort of a photographic record of my recovery, and I’m glad I did. (See Pictures Of My Vitiligo.)

I am also grateful to the many vitiligo friends and contacts who have been kind enough to share their pictures with me and who have allowed me to feature them on my Vitiligo Success Stories page. Thank you all so much. 🙂