WHEN I was growing up, “selfies” was a label we boys gave to the self-indulgent types who talked themselves up, loved themselves silly and craved attention.
We mocked “selfies”, asked if they had a sore back from patting themselves so hard, for it was drummed into our generation to be humble.
How the world has changed.
The word, as we know, now has a very different meaning.
I rejoined the gym this week in an overdue fight against the middle-aged spread, and noticed many people taking selfie pictures as they worked out.
One guy finished doing a few bicep curls and then flexed for the phone camera he had turned on himself.
Another girl posed by a machine with a pouty face while giving the victory sign, while another guy gave his phone to his mate so he could capture him doing a chin-up. They didn’t care if anyone was waiting, or who was watching, the selfie was the priority.
It’s a weird phenomenon that I’ve never quite got my head around.
People take selfies of their meals, on their morning runs, with their Friday night drink or even while reading a book in the sun.
Whatever the moment, however innocuous, needs to be documented and shared.
Why?
I’m a bit of a non-sharer with the wider world – what I mainly do isn’t that interesting. I certainly don’t think of posing with a pouty face during my low- intensity gym workouts.
Any sharing tends to be about my kids, but only with my closest family and friends – you know, those who may care whether they came third in school athletics or kicked a goal in footy.
So I wanted to find out what motivates those who feel the need to photograph and share pretty much everything.
Selfies, or self-portrait photographs, posted on social media sites such as Instagram have often been associated with seeking audience engagement, through clicks, comments and likes.
But according to research published in the journal Social Psychological and Personality Science, people take selfies to capture the deeper meaning of their experience and not because of vanity.
But there are some who take it too far.
In fact, there is now even a term “selfitis”, which psychologists claim is a genuine mental condition that makes a person feel compelled to constantly take photos and post them on social media.
Researchers from Nottingham Trent University investigated the term and discovered six motivating factors.
Those who suffer from “selfitis” are generally seeking to boost their confidence, seek attention, improve their mood, make memories, conform with their social group and be socially competitive.
They also reflect a narcissistic tendency that shapes the face in unnatural mimics – artificial big smiles, sensual pouts, funny faces or offensive gestures.
Yep, being humble is soooo yesterday.
But, by trying to document everything, I do wonder how much people are actually missing.
When a Matildas player lined up for a penalty in the Women’s World Cup, a shot of the crowd showed nearly every one of them with their phone cameras on. Their preference was to watch the action through small screen rather than a much wider lens. Recording the moment was the focus, not embracing it in real time. I find that odd.
It is the same when people go on holidays.
For many, taking hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures is now a crucial part of the experience – documenting every last detail and posting it on social media. But how does that affect our actual memories of the past?
My generation didn’t grow up taking “selfies”, yet experiences and moments remain vivid in my mind. They are snapshots of my life without the emojis or the likes.
So what lasts longer? The photographic memory of our minds or our phones? Depends how you view it, I guess.
