Brain-washed into being sexy?

Have you ever wondered why there are so many photos of you on a night out doing a face that can only be explained as half Barbie-pout, half psycho-killer. Or my other favourite, is the ‘face’ of looking wistfully in the distance with lips a calculated distance apart to resemble the throes of an orgasmic moment.

I am charged and plead guilty to the above offences.

Maybe I could blame it on the beer, the wine, or the combination of the two. Or I could just face facts.

I am compelled to capture a moment that epitomises my innate sexual and sensual self. Or, so I try.

Do I do it because I think nobody else can see it? Or do I make the same mistake over and over again like Kylie and the botox because I am brain-washed into believing I SHOULD be sexy?

After all, a photo is immortal – it lives on longer than us. And so it is that the guilty pursue a long-lasting memory of being valued as sexual gods existing above the meek who can’t pull off the ‘face’.

I’ll face up to brutal facts again. I prize a photo of a perfect expression of me any day over a ‘nice’ shot with a friend.

We all know vanity is selfish and the feather to which we brush our egos, but what drives us to project our sexual self in photos as opposed to another self?

I have no immediate answers – so therefore I will revert to pouting while I ponder this question. Snap away if you will.