Self-improvement is a thing of the past. Why read books and endure Dr Phil webinars to improve what you have, when all you really need is to market yourself better? These days it's all about self-branding. Cultivate the respect of your peers and seed envy in the hearts of your enemies by building a concept of yourself that screams success, and then selling it as hard as you can. It worked for the Kardashians, it worked for Trump, and it could work for you.
Perhaps the easiest way to advertise your personal brand on a daily basis is your coffee order. Think of your barista as a key communicator of your core message. Do you want to position your brand as comfortably bourgeois, an owner of cushions with inspirational but oddly literal words like INSPIRE written on them? Order a latte. If you're going for a wistful, whimsical Bohemian vibe with a shabby-chic 90s emphasis, it's a cinnamon-sprinkled cappuccino you're after. A flat white identifies you as part of the cheerful fabric of middle New Zealand, which is almost certainly woven from hemp. Espresso is the cool kid of the coffee orders, branding you louche and insouciant and other words you wouldn't dare try to say out loud. Choose soy or almond milk to align with either the glamorously health-conscious or unglamorously dodgy of tummy. Decaf will always brand you a wimp, which is why you order it in that apologetic little voice and let them charge you 50c extra. Branding is tough on the pregnant, anxious, and wimpy.
Another important communicator of your brand is your cellphone case; in some ways this is more important than your face. You spend so much time behind it, most people will only ever experience you as a small rectangle, so your phone case is even more crucial than the fleekness of your eyebrow game. If youth is part of your brand identity, a rose-gold case bearing a slogan such as 'I can't even' or 'IKR?' will successfully affiliate you with your Tumblr community and alienate your parents. Hipsters can flaunt their eco credentials with a sustainably sourced artisan-crafted wooden case, and try to forget about the underpaid foreign child who put the actual phone together.
Acting as a frame for your cellphone case is the other great leveller: the haircut. Most people are unhappy with their hair. Even Lorde, whose Disney Princess hair was a thing to be worshipped and feared, cut and straightened hers into something you might see on the Briscoes Lady. Your hair tells the world how to treat you. Do you consider yourself worth those monthly $300 highlights? Your target market will be subconsciously convinced. By contrast a mum-bob can unfairly make people assume you expelled your brain with the placenta. For new mothers the only truly practical do is a buzzcut: zero maintenance, easy to rinse pureed carrots out of and its GI Jane vibe discourages unsolicited advice. For men, the mullet has excellent brand recognition and can transform an otherwise blank canvas into someone who parties in the the back, whether or not much business is done in the front. The owner of a man bun is branding himself fashion-forward, and is inviting you to notice how daringly short his pants are.
Of course, none of this is any good unless people can see it. Social media should be an ideal brand platform but it's clogged with so many other people striving to be noticed that you'll get lost in a landslide of brave iguanas, an already dated reference that only goes to show how transitional internet fame can be. And unless you're willing to start your life over again, your brand is already damaged in cyberspace. You can share New York Times posts all you like, but all people will remember is the Candy Crush Request Storm of 2014. You should also remember that just because Twitter calls them followers it doesn't mean you're their leader.
