I came across a wonderful article ^[1] [via ^[2]]about the photo essay by Mary Ellen Clark on the prostitutes of Bombay.

Getting the job proved to be easier than completing it for this was an area where few non-Indians went, particularly women and especially women with cameras. The street’s inhabitants were hostile, even to the point of throwing things at her, but she kept coming back. She also did the unimaginable and stepped inside one of the brothels, which caused extreme consternation in the form of screaming and yelling. But unbeknownst to her she was being watched by somebody who at the time was one of the most powerful madams on the street, a woman called Saroja. A few days later she waved to Mary Ellen from her second-floor window and invited her in for tea. The photographer was now inside the brothels and known as a friend of Saroja. From this point on all doors would open for her. Mary Ellen knows from experience that on any project there is a point of access that has to be arrived at before the serious work can begin, and this was it.