I take a lot of selfies, most of the time it’s because I’m majorly excited when I get my winged eyeliner the same on both sides, or I want to show off a new outfit.
But I also want to capture how I look at the different stages of my life, what I’m wearing, how my hair is styled, what my make-up is like, so I can have those nostalgic moments when I’m older. Or cringe and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. I want to have things to show my children. Plus I’m not going to look like this forever. I’m starting a new hashtag YOLYO, You Only Look Young Once, so why not celebrate it!
My selfie addiction isn’t helped by the fact that my boyfriend doesn’t take pictures, at all. I would love to have a candid snap of me and Max and not have to resort to forcing Max into staged pet pic, but Ollie just won’t indulge my photo fantasies. Which is shit because I look at how many pictures I’ve captured of him in his prime; exploring Japan, brewing beers, and I’m stuck with sixteen selfies that kind of all look the same. I’ve spoken to girlfriends who have the same issue, maybe boys aren’t that sentimental or are more concerned about living the moment rather than looking back at it.
I usually have to request Ollie take a photo of me, I know how pathetic, stand very still and be very patient. Then, the angles are wrong and unflattering, my eyes are shut or I’m one big blur. Below, is the last picture Ol took of me by his own free will, I was drunk, rolling around on the ground in my underpants talking about Mark Ronson’s haircut. A hideous sight, captured purely for his amusement.
My parents have the most trouble dealing with my selfie saturation. My Dad doesn’t understand the duckface pout, he wants me to smile naturally and show off the teeth he spent $4K on orthodontic work perfecting. My Mum doesn’t like the narcissism, and would rather people see a spontaneous snap which reflects my effervescent personality. Honestly, I agree with both of them, but I just don’t think they’ve experienced the splendour of Snapchat. Those filters are just too god damn fun.
I guess there is an element of vanity, it does feel good when friends like my face. But I try not to buy into it. Looks fade and I want to age graciously. Actually, I’m kind of excited by the prospect of getting wrinkly and turning into a silverfox. But while my itty bitty titties are sittin’ pretty and not hanging at my waist, I’ll be unashamedly selfie-ing it up. I apologise in advance for the duckface to come.