A friend had had breast cancer. It was hard to tell her husband. She was afraid of his gaze on her ravaged breast. And yet, he managed to reassure her, through each phase of her recovery, he was there. In this photo, the woman and man together to conquer the disease. For better or for worse.

No matter their form or color, your breasts are the symbol of femininity. One woman in eight will develop breast cancer, no matter her origins. The only solution is prevention through early cancer screening. I’m a man who loves women. I’ve already loved and desired a woman who had undergone breast removal; I feel concerned with the struggle against breast cancer. I would love it if you would regularly do breast cancer screening, in order to protect yourselves and your breasts. With this photo, I say to you: “Love yourselves like I love you and please do breast cancer screening.” Remember, one woman out of eight! Often, a ribbon enwraps a gift. Offer yourselves early and regular cancer screenings, wrapped up with a Pink Ribbon!

Espoirs pour Toutes is an association that wants to inspire hope and serenity. The shadow on the sign depicts the outline of a breast, recalling the cancer screening issue.
A relaxed, serene face, and a heart displayed on the T-shirt, attract the gaze for a sure positivity.

“My grandmother, then my mother got breast cancer when they were about sixty years old. Thirty-four, I thought I was too young. What a shock! The day my breast was removed was the worst day of my life. I became calmer as the breast that had disappeared was reconstructed, like this flower that I water, as though to make the missing nipple, which I won’t get remade, grow back. The recovery, breast reconstruction, and my equilibrium were a major battle. Today I only desire peace. My best memory? The day I accepted my bald head in public. A stranger rushed to also take off her wig: she’d never dared! There is no shame in being sick. Why do we then hide ourselves away?” – Karine

In the past, parents informed their children and raised their awareness about the different dangers they could encounter. Today, the roles are often inversed. From school-age, partly because of the new means of communication, younger generations are more and more open and informed: the fight against AIDS, the damaging effects of cigarettes, alcohol, etc. Like a knowing allusion, via this postcard, this young woman reminds her mother that it is essential to do cancer screening. Caught in time, the chances of recovery from breast cancer are near total.

“There are no roses without thorns.” Since her breast cancer was diagnosed, she has stayed the same, despite fear. In love with her since the moment I first saw her, the more the days pass, the more I admire her, so beautiful, so strong. A “woman-child,” with a mischievous gaze, winning smile, and discreet flirtatiousness. For me, her femininity literally skyrocketed with the loss of her hair. She, joyful and sparkling, has a rosy view of life and lives it to the fullest. She remains confident in the future. A future that we promise each other will add a child or more to our we two.

Timid and a novice when it comes to modeling, Alice is more practiced at being a mother and being part of a relationship. She is blossoming and is trying to make up for the time when she used to linger in the background. She arrived with a bag full of clothes and chose the most exuberant to end up wearing none. She had difficulty finding her pose and I don’t really know how to direct. It was my first photo session with a model. I like contrasts, clear breaks. Alice portrays the modern woman well. Often caught up in an alienating everyday life, but “struggling” to keep a touch of madness, a reef of seduction, a little glimpse of freedom.

Scenes from lives
What can we say about the freedom to act when the gesture naturally accompanies determination? Certainly nothing other than the eternal emotion captured, too rare to forget it.

Accessit Prize 2012
What is it about the light of her eyes that continues to move me and about the mystery of her smile that carries on delighting me? I’ve stopped searching, for me she’s the most beautiful. Years and ordeals haven’t diminished the love I feel for her.
The spark of her laughter fires up my life. Her desires, her wishes carry me away in the momentum of her energy. She is alive and she has conquered the disease. She wants to travel around the world in a yacht, to visit Pokhara, swim with the dolphins, and a thousand other projects... She says that life is beautiful. That she has won the opportunity to live life more fully than before and to turn each day into a dance. She wants my arms to guide her, I offer them to her completely.

The founder of the Les Givrées association watched her mother fight cancer. She then got her girlfriends to join in a sports challenge to pay tribute to all these strong women who draw from within themselves the unsuspected physical and mental resources to fight against the disease. Les Givrées is a group of friends who raised a challenge: to together reach a 4,000 meter summit. The Givrée spirit is hope, to live life to the fullest. That’s our message to raise awareness about cancer screening that can save lives! To show our breasts, at an altitude of 4,000 meters, is our way to thumb our noses at breast cancer!

A woman remains a woman despite her scars, even if this isn’t obvious like a nose in the middle of a face. For this image, I was inspired by a painting by Magritte, The Rape (1948). We can bring another gaze to bear on this body amputated by the disease: it’s in this way that cancer is a rape. But today thanks to screening, we are all able to say no to this disease, to stop it and to fight it.

Lisa thinks of her future in a carefree way, without forgetting the Sword of Damocles hanging over her head: breast cancer, a ravager of unknown origin. Young, beautiful, and full of joie de vivre, Lise isn’t yet wondering about screening but hopes that one day there’ll be a treatment, so that she, her friends, and her close circle may continue to burst out laughing, without having to worry about tomorrow.

Because no one can really be prepared for such a storm. Despite the deep determination to want to fight and to live, confronted by the unknown, the treatments and their consequences, there are inevitably days and nights of despair, when you forget about life, your own life.
To dare to reveal yourself, to expose yourself, to remind yourself while avoiding to rub your wounds raw, and this despite hesitations and doubts. There’s always the desire to show those who are in the middle of the turmoil that afterwards, life goes on. This life, made up of colors and lightness of being. Thanks to those who do research, to those who accompany, to those who treat the sick.

Weeks he’s been waiting for her, sometimes impatient, sometimes resigned. Weeks that Adeline has been wondering if he’ll still be there, afterwards, when she’ll once again be able to look at herself in the mirror. This evening, the moment has arrived, she has recovered. Adeline dresses up, she will at last be together with her man again!

“Pink Positive”, this was the state of mind with which I approached my breast cancer recurrence in 2010. When I lost my hair, eyelashes, body hair, I couldn’t see the reflection of myself naked without a jolt of surprise. An amateur photographer since my youth, photography allowed me to tell my story, my life. I took this self-portrait and other photos to speak about and to myself. He said to me: “Annick, you are not just someone who’s sick, but a woman with her femininity. Another beauty reveals itself in front of your eyes. Look at yourself with love and kindness. It’s only temporary and you’re not that bad at all, with your smooth head and a few pounds lighter, are you?” I became reconciled with this body that had become foreign to me. This photo session is a key moment in my journey as a person suffering from cancer.

The fight against breast cancer is no child’s game, but a battle that must be won every day, step after step. In hopscotch, you can jump ahead and back. Sometimes you’re on one foot, sometimes on two. The challenge is to keep your balance, like in life.

She’s a strong woman, at ease with her body. A woman who exposes herself without inhibition. She’s not shy; she comes out of the shadows into the light. She is “positive”!

Birthmark, imprint of life. Each day it reminds me that two of my close friends have been affected by breast cancer and the best way of effectively fighting it is by having regular screening.

Is it a woman who modestly hides her breasts or a future mother who proudly manifests her imminent happiness? The doctors, who diagnosed her breast cancer, told Christine that she would most likely not have children. After five years, after an operation and painful treatments, a tiny life started developing inside her. Surprise, joy, and the victory of being able to breastfeed her newborn! Michaël is now five years old. Enough to give hope and to remain positive, no matter what happens!

My little paradise. Thanks to my rediscovered life, in my imagination, you are a guide, you show me the way. You are a fairy who lights up my path, changes my destiny. An unreal doll who gave me wings. In your place in my heart, you fill me with joy. Your eyes of green, the color of hope, lead me to this field of boundless love. I’ll no longer be cold, nor will I be afraid of the dark. Life has powers we’d never imagine.

Alexia is an example of courage and joy for every woman. A mother with three small children, she has courageously battled the cancer diagnosed three years ago: surgeons, doctors, radiologists, and physiotherapists will recall the moment she passed through their hands so extraordinary is this woman! Today, she begins a new phase of reconstruction. In a year, she’ll be forty years old and she’ll be able to run along the beach, topless, defying these four years in the wilderness. This photo is a message of hope and also the story of our “best friendship.”

Through my photojournalist’s gaze, I decided to witness and recount my mother’s story. After chemotherapy, Marie-Pierre had a septic shock, she was in a coma for ten hours. When she came to, she had to regain consciousness with reality, learn to eat and to walk again. All the everyday gestures, automatic for us, were no longer that way for her. For the first time, we saw her without a headscarf, accepting to show the physical signs of the disease. She also became aware of the importance of taking care of herself, of remaining feminine, despite everything, and of being able to look at herself in a mirror. This ordeal allowed her to fight the disease even more and to take advantage of each moment of her life. A kind of (re)birth.

I want to remove taboos!
Forty-one years old and suffering from an aggressive form linked to the BRCA1 mutation, I am the seventh in my family to put up a fight.
I got my friends together to play a game of statistics-reality: one woman in nine is affected by breast cancer. In this image, there are two of us, numbers lie. Overcoming our sense of modesty, we went through an unforgettable experience of baring all, full of emotions, solidarity, and laughter. We want to share reality, as it is, and with a flourish.
Fully-fledged women, we are all wounded in our flesh, or not. We aspire to grow old. We encourage each of you to take care of yourselves by getting yourselves screened. From the depth of my heart I thank Nelly, Cécile, Nathalie, Claire, and the four other Laurences.

All together, so different and similar at the same time. Mobilized in the same direction, for THE cause, to say STOP to this disease, to immortalize life, make it more pink! After a moment of slight reservation, we reveal ourselves, and tie a pink ribbon around our wrists. The power of being gathered together so positively provokes a flood of laughter, emotions, confidence. These are healthy gazes, a subtle humor, moments of sharing, delicate and full of hope for research and recovery! To reveal ourselves in order to fight, to come together in order to think, reflect, and act: showing them is to move forward, together to be screened!

Grand Jury Prize 2012
For my friend, sitting for me was like taking revenge on the disease. Before her cancer, she was a model and it was with courage and determination that she took up this activity again. She wanted to have breast reconstruction, but first, she wanted to capture this stage in her life and turn it into an artistic pretext.
This photograph comes from a series based on the concept of the double and for which I put masks of my face on my models. I chose, without hesitation, a joyful and light-hearted expression to portray Karine and her victory over cancer: she thumbs her nose at her scar, which is no match for her “Pink Positive Attitude”!
Proud of the trust she placed in me and to have added my small contribution to her victory, I hope her energy will inspire other women who cope with the disease.

The poppy is like cancer. Rather invasive, for a long time it was the symbol of pain because it grew in battlefields. But, delicate and sweet, the poppy is also associated with feminine beauty.
My grandmother taught me that it’s not because we’re sick that our femininity and our beauty should fade. It’s a hard fight, the sickness is rooted deep inside us, but it can also be fragile because, yes, recovery does it exist.
For this, open discussion, listening, and screening for all women, even very young women, remains the solution.

When my mother was sixty-nine, she found herself without a breast from one day to the next. This breast representing femininity, maternity, sensuality... A terrible void! A woman of her generation doesn’t talk about these things. Her education forbade her from doing so, likewise from showing herself naked. After ten years of living withdrawn into herself, she accepted my request: to bare herself in front of the camera. A feat for her! Little by little, she entered the game and it did her a lot of good. Simple, natural, and real, a black and white photo, like they were back in her day. My father’s hand evokes protection, the presence, and the love of the beloved person. Breast cancer is present at any age. We shouldn’t be ashamed of showing it, even though we feel diminished by the void left by the absent breast. Thank you, Mom, for being brave enough to participate in this photo, and here’s to those who, one day, will dare to do the same.

Suffering from autoimmune disease, I took this self-portrait during a course of treatment. It depicts... the reflection of the stranger who inhabits us and whom we cannot control. Nature, when you hold us in your sway!
To rediscover the bond with this other our-self. A path to healing?

After a cancer in each breast, twenty years apart, after radiotherapy, chemotherapy, and after taking a bone marrow sample for genetic research, Nicole is, at sixty-nine years old, a ray of sunlight enjoying life to the fullest. This photograph is a message of hope to all women who must join forces and take action, and never hesitate to get screened in time, so as to better conquer the disease, the way Nicole has.

The tree of ribbons For lack of a model, I decided to approach the subject of this competition in the form of a self-portrait. I’m not suffering from cancer, but I’m a woman, like many others, likely to develop it one day. My photograph evokes listening to oneself, cancer screening, and recovery. I wanted it to be simple and natural, without digital artifice (analog photography, average format, 6x6), to better represent the reality of this disease.
A tree, like a genealogical tree, the one which warns us about the possibility of a hereditary form of breast cancer. Also like the tree of life, protector and healer, the one which auscultates us. Lastly, the nourishing tree which will yield its fruit – the pink ribbons – and its power to fight this disease. What I wish to show here is a reassuring and positive image of breast cancer screening.

“I’m a woman, I’m a mother, I earn a living, I look after my home, I look after myself, I have a love in my life... and I have breast cancer.
In this little world I’ve created around me, everything is important, but I am the most important: if I’m well, everything goes well. I open my arms and deploy all my strength to conquer my disease.
I am a woman, I am Shiva. My power builds my happiness. Against destruction, I recreate my world, new and better.” – Eva

“When my new ‘breast cancer’ companion entered my life, my first thought was that nothing should change.
Then I decided to take advantage of this ordeal to send out a message. I discovered the Etincelle (Spark) association. One day, I accepted to be a bald model during a photo shoot proposed by Etincelle. A ‘trap’ because, during the gala celebrating the association’s fifth birthday, what a surprise when my name was called out: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure of introducing Solange, our 500th Etincelle! And this gift is for you.’ A very emotional moment for, after I’d unwrapped it, I found myself in front of... myself! Some people got to their feet and everyone applauded. I spent the evening explaining my approach to living openly bald, not hiding it, and receiving congratulations. I started my mission: to speak, exchange, explain, and lock up taboos.” – Solange

Accessit Prize 2012
Mélanie, thirty-four years old, learns that she has breast cancer. She then gets her hair cut very short and orders a wig identical to her haircut. The wig is there to protect her from the gaze of others, but above all to shelter her family circle, especially her children, from the sight of her bare head.
A photographic triptych as a message of hope. Thanks to this photo session in the presence of her two daughters, Mélanie finally dared to face them without a wig; without hair, it’s true, but still as beautiful and as attractive. Resolute, Mélanie firmly and bravely pulled off her wig. At ease, quite simply, she presented herself to us, naked, without losing any of her femininity. Her daughters were no longer afraid.

On my face, the traces of the operation. Rid of cancer. The surgeons are satisfied. I think of my two grandmothers, my aunt: breast cancer...
And what if my melanoma has left a micro trace? And what if my breasts, in turn...? Preoccupied by my questions, the evening is in full swing ten days into the festival. A young woman at the ticket counter has fun stamping everyone: V.I.P.: Very Important Person. She has just lost her husband. Cancer. Me, I’m alive. I don’t want to erase this VIP tattooed in pink ink on my forearm. I take it as a sign to be immortalized.
Very Important Person: hunter of dark thoughts. I am alive and Very Important! I want to dance, to pamper myself, to scream with joy, to share, to love. I am a Very Important Person! Everybody is. Life may be short… or not.

Renewal — “Hello Mademoiselle F., I can tell you that you may consider yourself cured!” I was certainly not dead, but hearing the oncologist’s words, I was born for a second time. Each cell in my body savored the taste of victory, the end of wearing a scarf, and my hair growing back.” – Isabelle
This photo was taken during the development of the Reconstruction project begun in 2011. Symbolic, it marks the end of wearing a scarf and the beginning of hair growing back. Isabelle, suffering from breast cancer, and I had chosen from the start to take black and white photos, for aesthetic reasons and as a bearer of hope. Then, we shifted to color at the precise moment of the reconstruction of her life as a woman.

“This woman isn’t sick, but she isn’t shielded from it.”
A majestic oak, symbol of life and continuity, nature and its intense green, sign of hope and of youth, a black night that we could consider threatening. With a single gesture, Marie paints an immense curve, which could resemble the curve of a breast. The determination to cover over the sad and painful aspects of the disease with a thick layer in order to fight, remain dignified, and to move forward. This inspired gesture shows the determination to live. Sick or not, the fight against breast cancer concerns each of us. We mustn’t give in to fate. Several lighting effects from the flash to pierce this black night and give color all its force!

A feminine battle. To support someone, fight as we’re able alongside her: this might just mean being a simple silent presence, this might mean making her burst into laughter, or mean screaming and crying with her if she feels the need.
Support is a fight. That of the direct circle, of family, or close friends, but also that of the Le Cancer du Sein, Parlons-en ! association, of its members, its representatives, and of those, men and women, who speak about and also try to fight this disease.

“In your eyes I capture what is most beautiful in each farewell: the ‘see you again.’ If your gaze is full of the fear of seeing me for the last time, it feeds no faith. You have to understand that I come to look for a little breathing room in your eyes. A bit of air so that my flame doesn’t waver. I bring fire. I am a Cheyenne!”
A woman, not just anyone. The disease made our paths cross, which then led to our friendship. Together, always transforming negative events into positive ones. This woman is a warrior. It was obvious that I had to immortalize her Cheyenne gaze.

Thirty-three years old, with a family, and a rosy view of life.
From rosy pink to grey, there is but a step. The disease and treatments turn existence into a daily battle. I am reborn with renewed strength. Then the genes deliver their sentence, the disease is still lurking and requires other sacrifices. Choices are hard, I must renounce my body and reconstruct myself in order to remain a woman: eleven years of struggle!
This “in-house” photo, so as to show myself as a fighter and, despite everything, to make the most of every instant. A photo of a couple for happiness, desire, and also for each ordeal. A “sweet rose of Love” that triumphs. I raise my arms in a sign of victory. A woman like others, and yet different. United and passionate, we watch positive tomorrows arrive.
I am forty-four years old, have a family, and I still have a rosy view of life.