‘I called the Comedian whom I previously went on a date with by the wrong name; perved over a 20-year-old; and gave the headliner some advice for his work-in-progress gig,’ I summed up my evening for Monique.
My advice had been to work a humblebrag line into his #FirstWorldProblems joke. It wasn’t particularly clever advice considering his joke had gone beyond a first-world-problems-humblebrag comparison and questioned how connected we are (do we own more mugs than we can fit in our kitchen cupboard because we buy each other impersonal mugs as gifts?). He also turned our modern-day table etiquette rules on its head with a story about a family emergency text during a dinner party.
Social networks – where, without the advantage of social cues, we may try to neutralise the potential image of ourselves as narcisstic and egocentric – are the perfect places to spot outrageous humblebrags.
One former friend took offence when she was pulled up on her humblebragging (‘I don’t want to talk about how great my love life is when you’re going through a break-up… But the sex is amazing’) before taking it a step further by lying on Facebook – think checking into a sex club she merely walked past and stealing an online image to back up a fake hot-air balloon flight over Paris story.
I’m a strong believer that a bit of vanity is good for our health. After all, no one would run a marathon if they had to sign a confidentiality agreement first. There’s nothing wrong with bragging, but when it’s masked with modesty, it reveals two unattractive traits: insecurity and dishonesty. Though, of course, humblebrags are also hugely entertaining. Our favourites make perfect pub conversation…
