The King of Bluffs is The Poker Face—a classic ‘mask’—an expression—actually an intended ‘lack of expression’—a skill of the card shark that wields persuasion and creates action.

But that gambling table performance isn’t the only ‘mask’ worn in society. We wear masks daily—everywhere—in so many roles—as if society and its expectations are the directors and we are the performers.

Two things I have observed over the years:

1. Masks have been worn throughout history. Visible masks as well as the ones we create ‘internally. ‘ It is these ‘invisible’ but ever-present masks that are interesting and disturbing.
2. Although the term ‘influencer’ today has attracted all sorts to the ‘career’—including the dullest crayons in the box—some influencers that have done ‘their thing’ throughout history have been brilliant—perhaps even unaware of their ‘feat.’ And speaking of influencers and the power of persuasion, we shouldn’t underestimate the power of a skillfully deployed meme—again, it has the power to transform society effortlessly.

Two Fascinating Examples:

1. The Influencer: The Earl of Sandwich. – Speaking of gambling tables and society…

• The Reputation: John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, was reputed to be an obsessed gambler. It is widely believed that he spent twenty-four hours at a card table, refusing to leave the game to eat or take a break. Legend has it that he asked for meat to be placed between bread slices so he could eat while at the card table, keeping his cards and playing hand grease-free.
• The Etiquette: Today, neither his obsession with gambling nor the idea he came up with for his meal at the card table seems shocking.
• But for that time, it was radical. This was an era of suffocating aristocratic protocol, where dining was a performance and a ritual. Tables were set with a repertoire of specialized forks, knives, fine china, and crystal for the flowing stream of courses and paired beverages, wines, and spirits.
• A chunk of bare meat gathered by the slices of bread—to be held in one’s hand. Bringing it to one’s mouth and tearing off pieces from this ‘thing’ with one’s teeth. These two acts would have been rendered a social death sentence if anyone had dared to engage in this barbaric display at the dinner tables of the ‘elite.’ It would have been ‘asylum-worthy’ behavior.
• The Tweak: Because a wealthy Earl purported this “invention” to fuel his vice, the gilded herd didn’t call it vulgar, barbaric, or insane. They considered it iconic. They copied it. It became the done thing. Seen. Memed. Done.
• The Side Effects: Gambling became more openly seen as “entertainment” as the bored bon vivants were. now endowed with new and rebellious elitist stage directions. The reckless card-shark narrative was intoxicating because it became associated with a new rebellious behavior—eating with one’s hands—and the meme ‘took.’
• Every time you grab a sandwich on a rushed break, you are unconsciously reenacting what may have been a 250-year-old high-stakes bluff.

A little time travel: I found a first-hand account of ‘the sandwich.’

2. The Mask: Ginevra de’ Benci. Wearing what I consider to be the ‘queen of masks‘.

• The Modern Gaze: The unyielding, tight-lipped expression—the quixotic smirk and the indifferent gaze—the classic characteristics of many Renaissance portraits appear to be the centuries-old prototype for today’s identical counterculture gaze.

• The Subcultural Split: Today, that flat gaze and indifferent look are intentional. Emos wear indifference as an armor to portray internal sensitivity, pain, and the heavy burden of feeling too much. Goths wear a darker, colder ambivalence to signal a rebellious, ‘anti’ stance against the mainstream setup.
• The Renaissance Mask: In Florence, Ginevra de Benci’s flat and severely indifferent look wasn’t a rebellion. It was the done thing. Her sullen expression? A rigid, heavy mask worn by women of noble birth—a part of their uniform—declaring their total submission to society’s standards of chaste moral virtue and predetermined place in society and role in the family.
• Advertising the Self: Today, we have the link in the bio to list our contacts and credentials. Centuries ago, they had the information in the painting to encode any message that needed to be ‘publicized.’ In Ginevra’s case, her portrait, painted by Da Vinci, includes wreaths of juniper (a symbol of ‘virtue’ that happened to also serve as a pun on her name), symbolically screaming to the viewer that Ginevra de Benci was virtuous. Ginevra de Benci: Official portrait—Officially ‘labeled’ and ‘stamped.’
• The Side Effect: Labels. Sometimes they are created for a ‘good cause’—to draw positive attention to a characteristic or ‘trait.’ But labeling and singling out causes more harm than good within the ‘herd mentality’ of society. A ‘knee-jerk’ hate response is very common when the masses are confronted with a subgroup that is a bit ‘different.’
• The Disconnect: The sullen, indifferent look. It was the ‘done thing’ back then. We will never know if de Benci—or any other woman of centuries past—ever wanted to wear that enforced expression because it was expected of them. She and countless other ‘to the manor born’ women could have been silently screaming their way through life, and no one would have known.