What is it, may you ask?
As far as I can tell from my observations, doppelganger week is a week for people to pretend that they are as attractive as someone who pretty much gets paid to be attractive.
Doppelganger week is a week for us a society to feed our absurd, and frankly, unhealthy, obsession with celebrities.
The actual event seems to consist of individuals changing their profile picture to that of a celebrity they wish they looked like...I mean...a celebrity who they look a lot like...twins, really.
It is a week for insecurities to come out in the form of compliment-fishing: "So..this is my doppelganger...recently rated as one of the most beautiful females on earth...I'm not that pretty (I have to say that so I look humble)...but...what do you think? No really...what do you think? (Please don't tell me what you really think, just stroke my ego for a second...yep, right there..ah that hit the spot!)"
Or even better, "Here are 5 gorgeous women (or men, as the case may be). Now tell me which one I look the most like! Even better, tell me I'm prettier/studlier than them all!"
Apparently the "answer 50 questions about me" or "even if our only contact was that time I threw up on you, share something nice about me" memes weren't enough of an ego massage.
Friends..sigh...how can I say this in a way that won't hurt feelings? Most of you are less physically attractive than Jessica Alba (or if you're a man...Hugh Jackman). Sorry if that was a low blow. But here's the thing...most of you have more going for you than they do. I've laughed with you, talked with you till all hours of the night, gone on some of the most spectacular adventures with you. I'd rather hang out with you guys than I would with ANY celebrity. And I believe the same about myself. I believe I am beautiful, but physical attractiveness is a negligible part of that. I am beautiful because God made me, and gave me attributes of divinity: love, joy, fun, confidence, integrity.
You know what...one of my favorite people ever (good old Willy Shakespeare) said this better than me:
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compareSo I will be keeping my profile picture. The one where I'm making two dinosaur pb and h sandwiches fight each other. Because that's me. Not Anne Hathaway, or Carrie Underwood, or Kate Hudson. Just Riss. That weird girl who likes to color and go on adventures. And I'm down with that.