I was trying to get the perfect selfie, you know the one, the kind where you look somewhat effortless as if a bystander took it without much thought, but all the angles are good. I open up my photo album to inspect the photo, trying to determine if what i’ve captured is desirable, a version that simultaneously is me, and isn’t.
The truth is a lot of time is spent making something appear nonchalant. A quest to capture what people deem effortless is often anything but. The irony isn’t lost on me. When I look at my photo album filled with endless photographs of my face, the many many attempts to capture something that is a performance of sorts, I can’t help but wander… am I vain?
The instagram account influencers in the wild (which I love by the way) showcases the often ridiculous lengths people will go to in order to get THE photo or the shot, and yet I often find myself in awe of how unapologetic those people are. Maybe that’s what pisses people off the most, someone publicly taking a picture of themself, putting themselves in the spotlight to that degree signals a level of confidence that most people cannot comprehend as possible (irrelevant of whether or not the confidence in question is real or fake). The willingness to put themselves out there knowing full well they will be chastised for their vanity.
I take my hat off to anyone who can vlog in public. I tried vlogging in public when I first started my YouTube channel only to become painfully aware of the looks of disdain from onlookers. There were men who shouted obscenities and sexual innuendos intended to make me feel silly and small. The discomfort of which did stop me doing it in public I admit. But in the privacy of my own home, in my own safe little bubble there was something I enjoyed about being the director, the cameraman and the subject.
The very act of taking a photo of myself reveals much about who I think I am in that moment. Sometimes there is a trying on of confidence, as if I can act what I think it looks like to be confident on the days when I feel anything but. An invisible cloak of the character I want to be in that moment that transforms me into her, whoever she may be. Whoever I want to be. And, it’s also true that sometimes I find myself capturing a moment of confidence, an experience of it vs pretension. I think the kids call this ‘feeling myself.’
After being front facing on the internet in some capacity for more than 13 years I am accustomed to playing a part that people want me to be. I’m under no illusion that it is me, but also it isn’t me. It’s a version I allow you to see. That’s how you take back your power when you’ve seen endless comments about the state of your teeth and how ugly you are from strangers on the internet.
Whether we realize it or not, something changes when we sit in front of a camera. We perform whether to an imaginary audience or a real one. I am no exception. I lean to a particular side, I don’t smile with my teeth showing, I tilt my head downwards at an angle, I move my hair into a particular position. I create a fantasy version of myself, but for the most part, It feels like i’m playing dress up. There is enjoyment in the performance, an escapism in it. It’s an awkward contradiction because while I could shoot more photos with my teeth clearly on display and the ‘bad’ angles taking centre stage, even that would be a performance, just a different kind.
Taking photos of myself and sharing them feels like a big middle finger to the comments that tear apart my physical appearance as if it were as delicate as tissue paper. There is a quiet rebellion in taking the photo and finding beauty in it, knowing others might not. In a world where women are not only judged by their looks but their likability (which more times than not seems to be connected to their relatability) enjoying our image is empowering. If that makes me vain, I think i’m ok with that.
Of course there are photos I do take just for myself, I even have an old school camera for these occasions, but if I go on to share the selfies in my phone album, does it take away their significance? Do I lose something by sharing them with the internet? Would I enjoy those photos just as much if no one were to ever see them? I don’t know the answer but it’s something I often think about.
As someone who creates content, and has been paid to work with brands you could argue it’s just part of the job, but sometimes I’m not so sure. And if it wasn’t would it be considered more or less vain to take photos of myself?
As more content creators go the route of botox and facial filler I’m left wondering will I get left behind if I don’t? Does anyone want to see this face as it inevitably appears lined, and patinad? To be clear this isn’t a judgement on them, more an awareness of how much pressure there is to preserve society’s ideals of beauty, and youth above everything else. Especially if your face and body are a commodity used to sell product in order to pay your bills.
Granted when I open up my phone and see over 50 photos of myself, the same makeup look, the same outfit, I can’t help but feel a level of judgement from myself. Especially as I gravitate towards writing becoming my number one priority. Can the two coexist, or do all those photos take away my seriousness? Is my intellect challenged with every selfie I post?
Some will argue it is, and ultimately people will always judge no matter what you do. But i’ve come to see taking a photo of myself as a form of play, one that at times provides a level of intimacy with myself that is hard to explain. When I look into the camera I get to choose who I want to be based off of how I feel in that moment. There is both the ability to escape if I need to/want to, and joy in the frivolity of it all, and God knows, we all need frivolity in 2025. I dont think ill be able to get through the next four years without it.
There are times when I want to hide. When I want to remove myself from the judgement of the internet, and when I feel like that, I retreat quickly and without apology or explanation. I know how to prioritize my peace and I do so willingly.
But there are also times when I want to be seen. I know this word feels like a cliche but it’s been healing to show up as I am. Sharing a photo of myself feels like shouting from the rooftops ‘hey world I exist, snaggletooths and all and my beauty is worthy of celebrating’.
Thank you for reading and for supporting my work
Harry x
If you enjoy my work, I’d be thrilled if you’d consider supporting it financially. For $7 a month or $65 a year, you’ll gain full access to the entire archive, the wardrobe playdates, join the private subscriber chat, and engage with the community in the comments. If becoming a paid subscriber isn’t an option right now, you can still support my work by sharing, liking, or forwarding it to a friend—every bit helps me continue writing regularly and delivering thoughtful pieces for you. Thank you so much for your support!
"Taking photos of myself and sharing them feels like a big middle finger to the comments that tear apart my physical appearance"
I'd take this one step further; it's like giving the big middle finger to MYSELF for the way I put myself down. When I take a picture of myself it makes me feel vain in a way that I deserve to be.
As a fellow human, who has taken thousands of pictures of herself and posted them online, I totally get this. However, I’ve swung the other way, to the point where I look at myself, and I’ve divorced that picture from my inner picture of what I actually look like. That sounds a bit confusing, but I am able to look at my pictures objectively and not be judgemental about my appearance. Of course, I still want only the best pictures to be posted online, but I don’t get upset if I’m making a bad face or look goofy or whatever. That’s just how I look sometimes.😁
I’ve always admired yourexcellent selfies, Harry!💕