I have a hundred thousand photos of myself, and two or three are workable.
There are 37 candids that, with the right caption and just a little bit of self-deprecation could pass for cute, too. Beyond that, photos rarely make me feel beautiful.
There’s some sort of rare geometry to it: the distance I am from the camera must be relative to the light source, which must shine on the left side of my face. Thanks to an asymmetrical nose, if I reveal too much of my right side, my nose appears to extend from my eyebrows into infinity. That’s the way my head naturally leans though— probably because the weight of my off-center nose pulls it that direction. (Conspiracy!)
I could also note here that my blonde unmakeupped eyelashes are a problem. Listen, all I’ll say is, have you ever seen Lord of the Rings? I played Smeagol. I was cast specifically because of my large eyes and zero additional defining facial features.
A dentist told me I have a dying tooth. A different dentist asked me if I have a hard time keeping my mouth closed because of my large lower lip. A different dentist, many years ago, vividly described to the hygienist a violent cage match fight he had watched while concurrently filling my cavity. Dentists, man.
What I really want is for someone to photograph me the way I see myself in the mirror—squirrely, pleasantly translucent, with cheeks that look like they have a little Kool-Aid stain from the summer. A little diffused morning light from the bathroom window, the smell of early coffee and whatever face oil I have on hand, a generous “Delete Photo” option—yes, there she is.
I started taking more selfies when I turned 30, because I realized I’m the one who can capture myself best. But I still want someone else to photograph me as if I am the rarest beauty on earth. I want to know, for the sake of science, if they can see what I see.
Is that vanity, or something else? Where is the intersection of what I see and what the world sees?
Is it lovely?
Next Steps: Drink a glass of water, laugh because you know where this is going, and take a selfie in a new spot in your apartment—you’re only going to live this day once, so might as well record it.
The geometry of a perfect selfie