You’re Not A Model

I’m a fan of social media. I think it plays an incredible role in today’s age, especially combined within marketing and advertising efforts. It’s a fantastic avenue for people from all ends of the earth to further express themselves and raise questions or concerns regarding situations or things that matter most to them. But it seems to have taken a drastic turn towards attempting to become internet famous by subjecting yourself.

Listen, I get it, the need for attention. What I don’t get is how hypocritical social media enables people to be. I wrote a post regarding gender equality and sexism not too long ago, and touched on the concept that it’s a double-edged sword – women and men alike cannot have it both ways. You can’t fight for an end to sexism and catcalling, and then turn around and post near-nude selfies in the middle of the woods with a caption that has absolutely no reference at all to what the picture is actually aimed at. Girls that post close-up pictures of their cleavage looking down on their computer and a cup of coffee with no pants on, just long socks, and caption it “Cozy mornings” or “Sundays are for studying”. No, just no. The focal point and emphasis of that picture is not, and I repeat is not, on the fact that you’re studying or that you’re cozy. The focal point and emphasis is on your tits and lack-of clothing, and you fucking know it. I actually came across one the other day that was perfect. Full-body shot with tight jeans and, obviously, a deep V with her tits poking out, and the caption? “Did Dr. Dre even go to medical school?” – what in the fucking fuck?

Why are you uploading pictures of you lying in bed in only your underwear, and captioning it “#mycalvins”? Oh, are those your Calvin’s? You didn’t borrow them from someone else? What’s Calvin like? Do you know him personally? Does associating your post with that caption make you feel better about yourself for uploading it? What if you didn’t use that caption, would you still upload it? Probably not, because it’s fucking stupid.

Don’t even get me started on the 15 and 16-year-old girls that dress slutty and lip-sync music on, what’s that app, musical.y or whatever? And then upload the videos to Instagram and somehow have hundreds of thousands of followers. Where the fuck are your parents? I got my first cell phone (flip phone) in the 11th grade for Christ’s sake.

Taking to strange destinations and locations, wearing a hat that’s fit for the Queen’s Plate, dressing up in a deep V with yoga pants on and sitting in the middle of a random field, and then thanking your ever-so-talented iPhone photographer, that was probably your best friend, in your Instagram caption for capturing your best look. And then, what, you get 567 likes? Cool, man, good for you. Chase that paper.

This shouldn’t shock you, but I imagine it will. Look, if you’re a woman, and you have over, lets say, 1,000 followers on Instagram, I shit you not, the majority of them do not care whatsoever what you’re up to – not a single fucking bit. I seriously can’t believe some of the profiles of people I went to high school or college with. Relatively smart, beautiful, engaging and promising young women that could actually do something with their lives. Yet, they’re still working at a bar (you aren’t better than anyone else because you stay up til 5am and drink every night. Give up the dream), and their profiles are littered with bikini pic’s, pic’s of their tits, pic’s of their tits in bikinis, close up pic’s of their ass, mirror selfies in short-shorts and deep V’s. The ass pic’s get me the most, because fuck, any self-respecting PERSON would most definitely not upload a photo of their ass to a publicly shared social media site. There’s truly only one answer to describe it all: fishing. There is no other reason for you to upload scandalous pictures other than the misguided mindset that you need people to see it. You want those likes and comments.

I know some girls that will delete a picture from Instagram after a few hours of uploading it if they haven’t reached 50 likes. What in the fuck? All of this definitely applies to men as well. They’re just as bad (well, maybe not). But I’ll actually call them boys. Because a man would have more self-respect, as would a woman. If you’re 30+ years old and still uploading selfies of you trying on clothes at H&M and captioning it “Gettin’ that swagger!” – you’re a fuckin’ knucklehead.

Instagram has grown ridiculously over the passed few years. There have been more pictures uploaded to Instagram in the last two years than in all of history combined. That’s astonishing. It now provides opportunities for businesses to link to higher-trafficked accounts for cheap advertising to promote their brand or product. And that’s cool by me. In the grand scheme of things, I think that’s what social media’s truest power is.

We all have our own opinions and rights and views of what we believe to be socially acceptable. But it’s when you’re fishing for likes and followers that you essentially lower your own personal standards to become accepted by thousands of trolls you’ve never actually met – and will probably never meet. It’s pathetic.

Upload all the pic’s you want to your social media accounts, they’re there to share. But I truly believe in the following two relatively simple, yet conscious, questions to ask yourself when uploading something to social media:

  1. Should I really be uploading this?
  2. What benefit will I get in return from uploading this?

If the answers to those questions include ‘no’ and ‘likes’, then you have bigger problems to deal with than whether or not you should be uploading that picture.

Seriously – food, dogs, cats, your family, your baby, your sisters or brothers baby, nature, neature, even cool quotes – all acceptable.

Don’t fool yourself if you think your tits, your ass, your tits and your ass, any sexual innuendo, your misleading captions to photo’s they don’t even relate to, have any correlation to anything other than the fact you seek attention. You might be beautiful, and good for your for showing that off – but there’s a limit, darling.

God forbid my grandkids see a picture of their ‘grandmother’ in 50 years with her tits out for the boys at age 16.

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