The Selfie and why I'm not embarrassed.

Today Henry took his first selfie.

I think it made him feel better about himself.

Personally, I love photos, that is, I love taking them. Unfortunately, when someone points a camera at me, it brings out the absolute worst features of my core. I assume a position of rigamortis. One eye automatically half closes, my top lip does an Elvis and my nose does a Fearne Cotton. I find being photographed to be an intensely uncomfortable experience.

Unless I take the photo myself.

I'm aware that this is pure vanity, but let me explain. I've known myself for some time now and as a result, I'm quite relaxed in my own company. Taking photos of myself, I can do a Holywood Keira Knightly pouty pose, click, look at the photo, realise that people wearing their slippers and smelling of baby vom have no place pouting, and promptly delete the photo after privately giggling at just how ridiculous it looks.

When my husband (or anyone else for that matter) tries to snap me, I can't do this. I want him to think I look half decent through the lens and immediately start to panic about what I should do to achieve this goal. My arms do a weird joke stance, my teeth feel obliged to make the biggest appearance they can in a horse like manner, my chin retracts like a tortoise in the headlamps, revealing the full glory of all my chins and I pull the 'panic face'. That's when photos like this occur.

a rare sighting of the lump gaited, Hitler haired heffathon.

here it is again. Quite why I think that stance will make me look better, I don't know.

​ My classic photo-panic coping strategy of talking while the photo is taken has created many a shot such as this.

and this, where I also seem to be wearing a Dudley Moore wig.

​ah, the stance of a ballerina.

classy.

the 'oh shit its a camera'

Mother of many chins. Incidentally my own mother often asks if I'm getting a goitre. From this photo, I can see why.

I have no idea what is going on with my hair here.

cos thumbs up makes anything look good even when you're wearing 28 layers and have stuffed your pockets to capacity.

I envy the photogenic. Those who can keep their cool in the direct beam of a lens. Sometimes I manage it when drunk, but for the most part, I fail miserably.

The upshot is, a general feeling of miffed offness. Everyone likes a nice photo of themselves and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. Although there are people who don't care, realising, quite rightly, that there are more important things in the world to worry about. With the wisdom of age, I am trying to be this person. Where I used to delete bad photos and get upset, they now don't bother me as much. It's a working progress.

First things first. The only thing to do at such times is laugh at yourself. Life, despite what peoples facebook accounts would have you believe, aint perfect. I'm getting older and things are only going to get worse, so I better start embracing the wrinkles and ever multiplying chins now.

The problem is that often you see other people with the perfect glam shot (not ones with their Dolly Partons out) I just mean ones that they can use for a more than respectable profile picture. Seeing these magazine-worthy snaps that others have had the luck to have taken used to bring out the green eyed monster in me. I am sometimes prone to envy.

I found myself getting angry at friends for looking so good, sticking two fingers up at their gorgeous image as it popped up on my wall. Then I realised at some point that the crux of the matter, however clichéd it sounds, was this. If you can't beat them, you have to try and join them, for your own sanity if nothing else. If I wanted a half decent photo of myself, I had to make one and stop hating others for theirs. I'm sure the Dali Lama has had the same thoughts about his profile pics.

So, in perhaps the most indulgent act of my life, I did just that. I put on some slap, gave my hair its annual brush and sat photographing my bonce and mush from different angles over and over until I got at least 1 photo I liked. I'm not saying I got anything model worthy, but I wasn't pulling the 'divvy face' and this was a good thing.

At this point you might be thinking that I am shallow, vain and utterly needy. Maybe I am. But this process wasn't for anyone else, it was for me. I didn't like the hater in me and this was my proactive stance. Life is short, everything is going south. I won't have 80% natural brown hair left for much longer. I need photographic evidence of when my knees still worked to get me through my old age. And let's face it, sad though it is, who honestly doesn't like a 'like'?

Trips to a spa, buying a new outfit, using make-up, doing your hair, writing a blog, its all vanity of one form or another, and the selfie day for me is no different.

I understand that for most, the very concept of doing this is cringe worthy and despicably self indulgent. But if you like, you can keep them just for you. Do the Kiera Knightly pose, who needs to know? (Just keep the file password protected.)

Hi, my name's Dot and I like a selfie. I honestly think it's good for your mental health, like crisps.

My advice, take a selfie day and if someone laughs at you for it, fuck em, they're probably just jel of your amazoss profile pic! .

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