We rely on mirrors to tell us what we look like, and we operate under the assumption that the world sees what we see. In other words, we look to our reflection in the pursuit of truth and self-awareness. We seek objectivity.
But what does a reflection truly reveal? More importantly, what evades us when we peer into these flat planes of reflecting light?
Via: faithringgold.com
People do funny things when they look in mirrors. They stand up straighter, they pull their guts in, they stick their butts out, they stand on tippy toes, they open their eyes wider, they smirk, they mess with their hair, they even duck-face.
Last week I was sitting outside when some demon-insect flew up behind me and stung the back of my neck. What ensued was a series of ridiculous attempts to see what the sting looked like via my shitty camera phone. I kept missing and I ended up with like 15 blurry pictures of my shoulder blades and scalp.
I began to consider how much of a general hindrance it is that our eyes are located on our faces. Wouldn’t it be great to have eyes on our hands, so we wouldn’t have to resort to sketchy methods just to see the backs of our fucking necks? Would people be as obsessed with making their faces perfect if their eyes were elsewhere?
If you stop and think about it, everything closest to our eyes gets the most attention. People don’t apply foundation to their elbows. People don’t take selfies of their kneecaps.
The nature of vanity has everything to do with the way we see ourselves.
There is so much more to a person’s demeanor than can possibly be captured by a glance in a mirror. I want to suggest that, while we think we have a solid understanding of what we look like, we actually have no idea.
My sister recently got a GoPro and shot some footage over the holidays. My mom’s reaction to seeing herself on film was hilarious: “Where’s my fucking neck? I have no fucking neck.”
In the same way that we don’t really know what we sound like until we hear our own voicemail recordings (I sound something like a pre-pubescent boy on meth), we really don’t know what we look like as we float through our day-to-day routines. We only have an inkling of our appearance under very specific and subjective circumstances.
Our eyes betray us.
What is the significance of all of this? I don’t know. Maybe it’s silly to worry about having such a staunch control over your appearance. Maybe you should just say fuck it and think about things that actually matter.
Embrace the simple truth that you could be the most beautiful creature in the world based on a contrived mirror reflection, but if you walk like you haven’t had a proper shit in seven years, you are just another imperfect human. Like the rest of us.
Mirror, mirror on the wall…what the fuck do you know?
Featured photo courtesy: EADineHickey
