Vanity is a Powerful Drug.

Call me slow, but at forty six I have just discovered that vanity has a number of insidious side effects.

Firstly it hides me from myself. I can get quite angry at perceived injustice, when in reality I am usually at least partially responsible for what I receive. I think that this is partly as a result of seeing myself as being intelligent or attractive**, whilst any self-belief that would result in either description seems to negate the delusion by definition.

Secondly it leads to an expectation of superiority. This is usually expressed as a desire for equal treatment. But the self cannot accurately measure equality, it's a little like the uncertainty principle, the complexity of human equality seems to dissolve into a morass of varying probabilities and potential outcomes. Vanity leads us to measure our experience of fairness with a bias that aims to ensure a better than average success rate.

Much is said about Male and Female vanity, and it now becoming a more common trait amongst men. I think I'll say nothing about that except that men have always been vain, it's just that to hide the implied insecurity they have tended to point the finger at feminine vanity. The painting is titled Vanity by Frank Cadogan Cowper, the 'last of the pre-raphaelites'.

** Although please note that I oscillate between + and - with an unduly large proportion of my time spent in a limbo of self-medianity. Distinctly different from mediocrity which has connotations of negativity. I cannot work out whether I am electrically charged or connected to the the personality earth.