Thoughts On Selfie Culture and Asking the Important Questions
There was this time I revealed to a group of friends how much I disliked our “selfie” culture. I let the words slip out of my mouth very much how one lets slip that you don’t give a shit about typography to a group of graphic designers. Everyone sported looks of mild surprise. And everyone pretended not to be offended. When in reality, I knew I might as well have pointed fingers and told them straight up that I didn’t like them.
One of those friends later commented on something I posted on Facebook and said, “Yo. Wait a second. I think selfies are awesome. Selfies are about self-acceptance. Your appearance isn't everything—but the whole point of a selfie is that you feel beautiful no matter what the beauty standards are. Because everyone is beautiful. Everyone deserves to look at themselves and say, ‘wow, I like myself.’”
Everyone takes selfies nowadays. Even our parents are doing it. Hell, my grandparents took a selfie this morning.
I don’t dislike people because they decide to participate in pop culture. (I also went through that Taylor Swift craze, I sure make use of those hashtags, and I sure as hell take selfies too, from time to time.) There’s nothing inherently wrong with taking a selfie. That’s not the issue, nor is it what I’m getting at. It is the prime status it has achieved as a symbol definitive of our culture. It’s the subtle power it has slowly acquired to guide the way we feel about ourselves. And I’m so annoyed.
Jennifer Lawrence told The New York Times last week that she has has googled herself “Jennifer Lawrence Ugly”. She also admitted to how much anxiety that bout has led to every time that she’s out in public now. Afraid to say anything that could be spun a negative way. Afraid to be deemed “ugly” when she comes out of her house looking like I would when I’ve spent considerable time doing my hair and makeup.
Social media is a wonderful thing, kid you not. It has the power to connect us, to empower us, and challenge our way of thinking. It very much serves as a mirror upon which we judge our lifestyle and our way of thinking. We follow publications and organizations that reflect our belief system, and therefore have the power to change those, too. But this power also comes with a caveat. Its main liability is its predilection to also become a mirror upon which we judge ourselves.
And the issue isn’t only seen through the overabundance of selfies in social media and whatnot. That’s just a small portion of it. It is also seen through the way we look to our profiles, our statuses, and our followers to be definers of our significance, and our importance. How many times have you gone in search of an Instagram filter that will hide that imminent zit in your forehead? God forbid you’re not this perfect human. And, holy shit, think of all the likes you won’t get.
So, I’m sorry, friend of mine, who said that the whole point of a selfie is that you feel beautiful no matter what the beauty standards are. But that’s exactly the main problem. You hit the nail in the head. I’m appalled that you need a selfie to confirm that for you.
I’m just afraid there won’t be a time when we learn to fully revel in our experiences by being fully present in them without the worry of being liked or disliked, without the search of a little elusive recognition. I’m a little afraid that we’ll forget the value of complex thoughts and ideas we can’t reduce to 140 characters on Twitter. That we no longer give way to getting to know ourselves the old-fashioned way; getting lost in thought, asking ourselves questions, finding within us the answers. That we won’t read books that no one else is reading solely because they please us (but because we want to know how many likes that post could get), or that we no longer spend time daydreaming for the hell of it. I’m just afraid we longer find ourselves to be enough; that we need this immutable mirror of social media to tell us so.
What is it that we are so afraid of? When we post all those statuses for the sake of the likes, or when we feel the need to push out our breasts and “duck” our lips for the “candid” photo (as if that even existed nowadays)? There’s this implicit obsession with being overly interesting to others. #CanSomebodyDefineInterestingAnyway #WhatIsLife. Not only interesting, but attractive, appealing, available. Enticing.
What I’m trying to say is this: I think maybe we are just afraid of being plain, just ourselves, just skin upon skin, upon muscles, upon bones. And social media is just a way to disguise that reality.
The other day I was reading a book called The Art of Making Magazines for a graduate school class and in it Robbie Myers, editor-in-chief of Elle, talks about the short time she worked at Seventeen. She says, “ At Seventeen, readers kept asking us questions like, how do I get a boy to like me? And I kept saying, ‘Stop asking that question, that’s not important. Do you like yourself? Do you know who you want to be?'"