Fiona McCade: Wipe that Facebook smile off your face

I also seem to have three times as much hair as I actually do, thanks to a whole can of extra-strong hairspray. Of course I like it, or I wouldn’t have allowed it to be used, but you should have seen the 50 or so not-so-good ones that I vetoed. I remember one of them made me look like a peeled egg.

The fact is that nobody enjoys broadcasting bad images of themselves. If we know we’re going to be scrutinised, we all put on the best show we possibly can. Take Facebook, for instance. Everybody on there is purposely showcasing their shiniest, happiest Facebook Face. You never see anybody looking spotty, greasy and miserable. They all want you to see them at their most gorgeous, and that’s a normal, human response, isn’t it?

Well, I thought so, but apparently not everybody realises this. Sociologists at Utah Valley University questioned around 400 undergraduates about their happiness levels, asking them how much they agreed or disagreed with statements such as “life is unfair” and “many of my friends have a better life than me”.

Ninety-five per cent of respondees used Facebook, and the results showed that “the more hours people spent on Facebook, the stronger was their agreement that others were happier”. Even worse, the ones who used Facebook the most (and who had most Facebook “friends” whom they didn’t personally know) were “significantly” more likely to concur with the statement that “life is unfair”.

Someone needs to give the young people of Utah a good slap. What are they thinking? That Facebook is some kind of news-streaming service? Reuters for party animals?

I can’t believe they don’t realise that people’s Facebook Faces are about as real and reliable as the airbrushed models in the glossy magazines. When did you last see someone post a photo of themselves lying in the gutter, captioned: “Me, just after being fired!” Or surrounded by doughnuts: “Look! I’ve gained two stones!”

No, everybody on Facebook is putting their most fantastic face forward. They’re at parties, at weddings, hugging kittens, and smiling, smiling, smiling. And wearing loads of make-up and sucking their cheeks in. Of course they are; they know you’re watching. They know their ex’s are watching; they know the people who bullied them at school are watching; they’re under huge pressure to make their lives look as good as humanly possible, because everybody else out there is having such a brilliant time, they have to as well.

THEREIN lies the real joke, because all those envious, gloomy undergraduate Facebook users in Utah will undoubtedly be doing exactly the same thing. Except, for some bizarre reason, they’ve convinced themselves that only they are putting on false Facebook Faces, and everybody else is being genuine.

If they could stop gazing ruefully at other people’s extravagantly joyful profiles for one, teensy minute, they would discover that there are some reassuring Facebook groups, like the “I Think Facebook Makes Me Depressed” group. Or maybe they should just cut to the chase and join the “Let’s Leave Facebook” group.

The effect of seeing absolutely everybody you know – or don’t know – showing off their very best bits, all at the same time, is understandably overwhelming.

This is why so many trashy magazines make lots of money from printing photos of celebrities with their cellulite hanging out, or crying because their boyfriends have left them.

We need to see other people being human and flawed, because so much of the time we’re suffocated by perfection overload. So, I’m thinking of starting a new Facebook group, called “Fed-Up Face”. It will only show photos of people at their worst. There will be details of how depressed and downtrodden we’re all feeling. Pictures of terrible spots and bad hair days will be welcome. And to start things off, to make everyone feel instantly superior, I’ll dig out that photo of me looking like a peeled egg.