I recently had the opportunity to hear my own voice singing what I thought was a GREAT rendition of a song. It was not. And it got me thinking about all the ways we sound to ourselves and how it differs from how others hear us. Listening to yourself on the Keep it Juicy! podcast.
They say that everyone has a doppelganger, a twin somewhere out there in the world.
And, recently, I read a news story about a woman who found hers, using a web site that can help you find the one person who shares your face, assuming he or she is looking for you too.
Curious, I click through. You describe the shape of your face, your eyes, your mouth. You upload a photo. The site scans all the photos in its database to find a match. How cool that there could be another me out there! I start to fill out the form.
And then I hesitate.
Because, I have always reveled in my uniqueness. My features are a mashup of my parents’. My mother’s eyes, my father’s jawline. As an only child, I have always liked not having to share anything, not even my facial features, with a sibling whose existence might force me to share attention. Do I really want to find out that what’s mine, all mine…isn’t?
I am not the only one operating on the assumption that I am unique. MasterCard is experimenting with letting you charge purchases using facial recognition technology because it assumes that your selfie is your identity. But what if someone else out there can match up to your selfie? Could they take over your bank account?
It brings it into the realm of science fiction, or Mission Impossible, to imagine someone using your face to live your life.
So, to my twin out there in the universe, I apologize. Because, with one reassuring look in the mirror at my own reflection, I click off the site. And I won’t be returning.
Stilettos Not Required 