Instagram gives you 150 characters to explain to people that you’re a vapid piece of shit. Just kidding. Instagram isn’t only for vain people who think they’re more interesting than they really are. It’s a diverse module of artists and creators who can take great photos of their lives with their iPhones, and also an integral component in the quest to make society a revolving door around how many likes people get online. Thanks, Gen Y.
During my time being vain on Instagram, I’ve noticed Instagram bios follow a few key strains. The bio reflects the content, so if someone has an Oscar Wilde quote, I promise you their photos will be an annoying blend of romanticism and loneliness. Here’s some of my other observations:
An ode to your significant other.
You know people who have their partner’s name and things like “property of” or “forever and ever” or “my bae”? Wrapping emoji love hearts around the name of the person you have sex with is the official Instagram precursor to a messy, public break up. No matter how hard I try, I can’t understand why people need to tell everyone who reads their Instagram the name of the person they’re dating.
Some people dedicate their Instagram bio to their partner just weeks into a relationship. These are the same people who buy Coles brand butter chicken sauce and precooked chicken then put two dollar store candles on an Ikea table and upload a photo with some sewerage caption like “did it all for bae”. The two of you barely know each others birthdays – why do you need to tell us every single time you try to recreate Miss India?
A list of personal accomplishments.
People who do this almost always include the self-applied title of entrepreneur, which has become a blanket term for anyone who isn’t paid an hourly wage or salary. Sometimes people have ‘animal lover’ or ‘vegan’, which are the undisputed warning signs for an account you unfollow after a week. The same goes for ‘stay at home mummy’ and ‘fitness advocate’.
An emoji-laden biopic.
You know people who dropped out of school because it wasn’t their thing? You know, the ones who left in grade 10 because eternally struggling to pay rent was more appealing than taking a few multiple choice tests? Yeah, well you thought they were completely useless, but they’re not. They’re really good at writing Instagram bios using a bunch of emojis instead of words. Whenever you see these half-word-half-emoji gospels, thank God that Instagram is the only keyhole you have into the perpetrator’s life. It’s definitely not pretty.
An inspirational quote.
I’m not sure why social media makes every deadshit think they’re Gandhi, but inspirational and profound quotes are really popular amongst people who don’t understand what they mean. I went to school with a guy named Dave and I’m pretty sure he had a shower after every shit he took because he didn’t know how to wipe his own ass, but now he has a Henry David Thoreau quote in his Instagram bio, so maybe he turned his life around (he didn’t).
These people are either normal or spam accounts. Fake accounts exist solely for the purpose of increasing follower counts of people who are either: (a) over the age of 50 and trying to start a business ‘in the digital world’, (b) trying to sell footwear on social media or, (c) upcoming models or DJs who think that Instagram followers is a suitable replacement for talent.
An email address.
There’s a small portion of people who have an email address because they sell the sandals their grandmother makes on Etsy or something like that. Then there’s a bunch of dickhead models who think if they post enough photos of their box gap Supre is going to track them down and email them a 10% off voucher. Then there’s people with arts degrees who think if they keep their email there long enough someone might accidentally send them a job offer. If you’ve got an email address and it’s only because the amount of ‘likes’ you get on a photo has convinced you there’s some kind of financial demand for your ‘service’, stop putting off that Seek application.