"100+ poses!" Where have all the Great Guys gone?

“100+ poses!” Where have all the Great Guys gone?


We’ve been so busy around here with trips, weddings and blogs, that I almost let James’ Graduation get away from me. I’m so glad I still have some time time. There’s a lot to do, if we want to ensure that the entire event proceeds with all the Pomp and Circumstance that accompanied his sisters’…

I started by broaching the topic with James the other day.

“It’s about time for us to schedule a photography session!” I announced.

“A photography session?” he repeated with utter disdain.

“Yes, for your Senior Portraits,” I responded ever-so-delicately.

“I’m not getting Portraited. You have enough of pictures of me,” he said dismissively.

Matter settled, boy-style.

I anticipated this response. Not my first time in the trenches with a teenaged boy. I was locked and loaded, with ammo to spare.

“We have to have Official Senior portraits taken of you, so that we can order Graduation Announcements. When our various friends and relatives receive these announcements in the mail and gaze lovingly upon your likeness, they will become randomly inspired to send you graduation money.”


“Yes, you remember your sisters’ Graduations, don’t you?”

“I think so…Weren’t they sort’ve like fundraisers?”

“Yes, in a way…”

Matter settled, mom-style.

But, just between us, I still have my work cut out for me. This won’t be the same as it was with my girls. They met their photographers joyfully armed with baskets of make-up, trunks of jewelry, wardrobe changes and positive attitudes. This will be different.

This unsuspecting photographer is going to be met with resistance and negativity, at best. A little pre-planning is in order.

I can admit when I need help. It was time to bring out the big guns. Senior Staff Stylist, Gracie, is out of commission for this project, so I logged onto Pinterest.

Search Terms: Guy, Pictures, Senior, Poses, Backgrounds


So many handsome young men posed like little plastic dolls. I couldn’t wait to start a Pinterest Board of all the shots that I thought we might attempt to emulate with my own little Posable Ken.

I went into my next conversation with my son, armed with over 70 pictures of young men posing cooperatively in their Senior Pictures. Boys who clearly love their mothers and weren’t afraid to show it, by donning a crisp new outfit and striking a clever pose for her to capture and cherish for the rest of her natural life.

James sat patiently beside me and looked over my shoulder as I scrolled through my menagerie of boys, starting with my first three favorites. If I could get him to agree to one of these, this could be quick and painless. Unfortunately, James took visceral exception to every photo.

“He looks like a tool!”

“What a dork!”

“He needs to turn in his Man-card!”

(I felt like James was focusing too much on the ACTUAL KID in the picture.)

“Quit worrying about the kid in the picture; it’s not going to be this guy. I just want you to focus on their outfit, the background location and the way they’re posing to give me and the photographer an idea of what you think would look nice for your Senior Portrait. The actual guy in the picture is going to be you, not them !” We scrolled back through the first three. He pointed at each one and tried to be more specific this time around.

“If you dress me like that, I’ll look like a tool!”

If you pose me like that, I’ll look like a dork!”

If we attempt to recreate this picture in any way, I will have to relinquish my Man-card!”
Okay, so this wasn’t going to be easy. I tried to go at it from a different direction:
I asked James what exactly “His Vision” was.

“Somewhere in between this douche and that douche,” he pointed at two more pictures, adding, “Their mothers obviously don’t love them.”

Eventually he admitted that, just as I suspected, he didn’t, in fact, have his own vision. Like his dad, his goal in life is to quell and quash MY vision. He accomplished that effectively with a few simple rules:

-No hay bales.
-No train tracks.
-No bridges.
-No sports paraphanelia or props of any sort, no matter how relevant they may seem to my past or some future you have imagined.
-No tree hugging.
-No country roads leading to places I’ve never been and don’t plan to go.
-No graffiti background, unless you buy me a can of paint and let me spray my own words.

And, sure, he likes his truck just fine, but doesn’t want his picture made with it.
Ditto his dogs. He refuses to pose with a Chihuahua and it’d be just plain rude to pose with only one of your dogs.

As far as his clothes go, he doesn’t want to look like he’s going to a sporting event, nor a job interview, so, “aim for somewhere in between.”

I finally asked him if there were any pictures from my Pinterest board that he didn’t absolutely loathe. He patiently scrolled through the remainder of my pins. I became somewhat encouraged when he paused at one. “This guy’s cool. I guess I don’t really object to anything about his picture.”


I think we have a plan in place. I understand my role in this. I can run to the mall, procure a similar ensemble, schedule the photographer and then scour the area until I find some rusty stairs.

The rest of the pomp and all of the circumstance must be supplied in full by my Poseable Ken...