Behind The Scenes: The Skin Deep New Orleans

I walked onto my first production set in New Orleans with a vague idea of what to expect and absolutely no idea how much the experience would change me. As the Director of Marketing for The Skin Deep, I'd watched countless episodes of our {THE AND} video series: intimate, documentary-style conversations between pairs of people using our card decks to guide them into vulnerable territory. I'd heard stories about the productions. But hearing about something and living it are entirely different things.

The Setup

The production took place across three days, filming pairs having deep and meaningful conversations for {THE AND}. My role seemed straightforward on paper: manage before and after interviews with participants and work with photographers and videographers to capture marketing images of products and participants. Simple enough, right?

What I didn't expect was the emotional weight of it all, or how chaotic-yet-professional the entire operation would be.

Two Worlds, One Set

The physical space itself told a story. We had two distinct areas: the professional production set where the actual {THE AND} conversations were filmed, and a casual, welcoming area where participants waited, warmed up, and decompressed. The contrast was intentional and crucial.

The welcome area needed to feel comfortable and authentic. This wasn't a sterile corporate environment; it was a space where people could ease into vulnerability. We'd have participants play decks applicable to their relationships, asking warm-up questions to help them open up before the cameras rolled. The last thing we wanted was for anyone to feel like they were walking into a stressful, highly restricted experience.

Meanwhile, the production set maintained film-set-quality professionalism. This served two purposes: it ensured we could deliver the high-quality output our audience expects, and it communicated to participants that this was legitimate, that their stories mattered enough to be treated with this level of care and craft.

Due to the intimate nature of the conversations, most of the crew wasn't allowed on the actual video set during filming. We understood that maintaining a safe space for these conversations meant limiting who could witness them in real time.

The People

Over those three days, we filmed about 40 participants (20 pairs) with wildly different relationships and dynamics. About half had flown in from as far away as San Diego and New York City; others were New Orleans locals. We had romantic couples, an arranged marriage couple, friends, a famous local performer and his mom, mothers and sons, fathers and sons, and more.

The pattern that surprised me most: nearly every pair had one person who was excited and one who was apprehensive. Watching that dynamic play out in the pre-interviews was fascinating. Some people could play the cards and open up immediately, often with surprisingly candid answers. Others approached it with visible trepidation.

But here's what struck me: the interviews helped. Participants told us that those warm-up conversations made them feel ready for the real thing. And afterwards? Almost universally, the people who had been unsure walked out smiling. Many described it as feeling like they'd just left a massage or therapy session, like a weight had been lifted. I was genuinely surprised by the impact a one-hour conversation could have on people.

One pair in particular has stayed with me. Two friends who had lived together in the New York City area who had flown in together just for this experience. Their friendship was the most beautiful, sincere connection I may have ever witnessed. The love they had for each other was palpable, their sense of style was incredible, and their humor reminded me of the banter in Bridesmaids. They were magnetic.

The Chaos and the Craft

If I had to describe the pace of production in one word, it would be: chaotic. But it was a professional chaos, if that makes sense.

Participants arrived early, arrived late, stayed late. Timelines had to be constantly adjusted across all three days. I was simultaneously managing my own deliverables (working with the photographer and behind-the-scenes videographer to capture marketing content) while also conducting those participant interviews I hadn't fully expected to be doing, all while keeping people engaged so they weren't too distracted by cameras and crew constantly in their personal space.

Everything was relatively new to me and pushed me out of my comfort zone. But it was also incredibly fun and interesting. I welcomed the change of pace, one that taught me more in three days than I might have learned in three months behind a desk.

Working with the producer, photographer, and videographer taught me about real collaboration under pressure. Everyone faced tight schedules and clear deliverables, and everyone worked without complaint to get everything done. I learned that directing creative work in this context means balancing tactical requirements and effective use of time while still giving your creative team the freedom to practice their skills. You can't micromanage creativity, especially when you're dealing with the unpredictability of real human beings and their emotional journeys.

What I'm Taking With Me

This experience fundamentally changed how I think about my role in marketing and how I'll approach future productions.

I now understand that getting content from productions requires ensuring we have dedicated time to capture what we need, clear direction about our expectations, but also enough presence and flexibility to capture unique and valuable moments as they happen. Each production has its own character, its own unrepeatable moments, and we need to take advantage of that uniqueness to create assets that truly stand out.

Moving forward, I want to work more closely with the behind-the-scenes video team, carving out intentional time for marketing content beyond just the interviews and standard BTS footage.

The Bigger Picture

If you take one thing away from this, let it be this: an incredible amount of time, effort, love, and care goes into each production. What you see in the final videos, those raw, honest conversations, doesn't happen by accident. It happens because every element, from the physical space to the pre-interviews to the professionalism of the crew, is designed to create safety and authenticity.

And it matters. It's profoundly meaningful for the participants, both to have the opportunity and for what it does to their relationships. Watching people walk out lighter, closer, more understood, that's not something you can fake or manufacture.

The Skin Deep holds itself to an incredibly high standard because we're committed to making real, deep conversational content with no agenda. After three days in New Orleans, watching it all come together, I understand why that standard is worth the chaos, the long hours, and the emotional labor.

My advice for anyone about to step onto a production set for the first time? Be open to the chaos and embrace the experience. Be observant, be intentional, and let yourself be part of the overall moment. Work with great producers, be as organized as possible, but give yourself the flexibility to adapt.

Because the magic happens in the space between the plan and the unpredictable reality of human connection.