I warned you.

This will never end.

Despite my optimism, there’s no sign that people are taking less selfies. In fact, I think they’re getting more niche by the day. So here’s my addition of mostly lockdown-useful selfies to whittle away the hours.

Speak for yourself, but my first reaction when I was sent into isolation wasn’t “Great! Now I have 14 days to Sellotape my head!”

Admittedly, the “sellofie” (c.2012) began as a highbrow homage to New Mexican photographer Wes Namen (who used rubber bands and tape) before quickly descending to the banal. The phenomenon, if nothing else, proves that the line between art and absurdity is only ever wafer-thin.

Masking as a rebellious exercise in denial of identity is a theme that inspires the works of many legit artists, including Carmen Schabracq from Holland, whose knitted ‘anonymity masks’ are less proof against COVID than they are against facial recognition systems.

This is archly arty stuff with a cutting social edge.

I like it.

This I don’t like.

The ‘celebrity facial mask selfie’. Meh. All kinds of gloop being slapped onto famous faces, which they assume y’all want to see. My pout is already lush AF, but I guess if you’re chapped and off to the ‘Globes then smear that shit on. But why photograph it?

This, on the other hand, needs a photo.

The defining images of 2019+ must include at least one tone-deaf bimbo misappropriating the PPE of frontline health workers for nefarious purposes. That facemask over her vajayjay? That’s gonna smell. Less stupid than vajazzling, but only just.

Speaking of frontline health workers, after the first todal wave of sexy nurses chasing public approbation came the ‘bruised and battered’ selfies. You can sympathise with the poor bastards, but highlighting your own heroic efforts (in case we don’t notice or clap loudly enough) seems a bit upmyselfie-ish.

Ouch, though. Looks painful.

Babies are born every day, so punch one out, pause for make up, then pose for a (fake candid) new-arrival selfie! It’s hard to suggest there’s anything wrong with this: the scene, albeit tidied up for Insta, is one of joy. This could just as easily be an ad for teeth-whitening products, though.

From a woman in hospital to a woman who should probably be in a different kind of hospital, this is a Finnish artist whose name escapes me. I did read her rationale behind it, but it made no fucking sense at all. No. This is an fundamental offense against Nature. It’s why Prometheus gave fire to man.

Injury selfies.

I have no idea who she is, but she acts as if I should know. As if I should care that she tripped and busted her lip. If I had an ingrown hair on my butt, would I post it? Unsightly pustule on my left nut? But this is not about her injury, per se, it’s still all about “OMFG how hot am I??”

Another iteration of “OMFG how hot am I??” is the hot-girl-pulling-ugly-face selfie. They’re still doing it, because if these airheads are ever captured off-guard and their natural RBF goes public they can claim to be pulling the hot-girl-ugly-face.

Otherwise, this is of no use to society.

Fish-bra selfie. That’s a b-cup bass at best. I refuse to look at fish-bra selfies unless the fisherwoman is struggling under the weight of a bluefin tuna. To be realistic, you’d also have to divide them between freshwater fish-bra and saltwater.

Pet selfie.

Quokka selfie. Aww! Quokka! So cute!

The catfishing-selfie-that-wasn’t-actually-me selfie. Except that I think this is the same girl, in which case it’s a very poor example of the catfish-selfie but a very good advertisement for good hair and make-up technique. And that top.

*** WARNING! *** It gets a bit nasty now.

There are many moments in your life that should be immortalised. I get it. But there are also many more moments you need to bury. For which you’ll need plausible deniability. Things that could make or break future relationships, future jobs, your reputation or even your mental health.

Post coital selfies. Yep. It’s a thing. Like most young blokes, he’s pretty pleased with himself. Her expression though, speaks a million words.

Hairy armpit selfies. A strictly Asian phenomenon, as far as I know. Let’s hope it stays that way. Because ladies you can have all the equality you want without going all free-range on us poor suffering menfolk.

Like the stupid ho said — mocking the homeless selfies. I’d emigrate to American and hunt this bitch down so I can give her a job, humiliate and bully her for a while, then fire her ugly ass.

Divorce selfies. Really? How about doing your due diligence before the nuptials to save yourselves the bother. Dude was punching above his weight anyway. She probably took all his money — why would she marry his bald, ugly ass otherewise?

Alas, this is real.

How he managed it on a commercial flight, I have no idea, but props for him. I am sure this violates almost every social more that exists, plus several air safety regulations, but fuck why not. You’re literally taking photographs of everything else. Why not a ball selfie.

It’s hard to trump a ball selfie, to be honest. I’m not sure I have the stomach for it. But as I’ve said so many times before, selfies are the gift that keeps on giving, so I’ll be back.

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