I’m a bit of a winker – but I do it responsibly

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Rommie Analytics

Studio photograph of Middle-aged man winking at camera. On light background, wearing dark dress shirt. With short, greying hair and stubble. Image from waist up.
For clarity, I don’t go round doing this to random women (Picture: Getty Images)

I’m a winker. I don’t mind admitting it.

I wink at people a fair bit, although I am aware it’s developed a slightly dodgy reputation over time.

The wink now seems mainly associated with ageing lotharios, 1970s game show hosts and regional sales managers who’ve had three large pinots at the Christmas party.

For clarity (and perhaps legal reasons), I don’t go around winking at random women.

My wife might get the odd one, sure, but doing it indiscriminately feels like an efficient way of turning a cheery old-fashioned gesture into something potentially deserving of a police caution.

Which is a shame, because deployed correctly, the wink remains one of the finest, warmest bits of non-verbal communication available to us humans.

A special wink from The Special One (Picture: Getty Images)

A good wink can mean many things… Hello. Cheers. Thanks. No worries. Nice one. I saw that too. We’re good. All communicated by moving one eyelid about half an inch. It’s a wonderfully economical piece of ocular shorthand.

It’s particularly useful when you’re leaving somewhere: give eye contact, a little wink, and you’re gone.  

A good wink really comes into its own with people you already know and like. You can acknowledge a shared joke or establish a private little conspiracy without either of you saying a word.

The eye movement is quite enough. Additional hand gestures should be approached with extreme caution (Picture: Getty Images)

There is, it turns out, some science lurking underneath all this face-twitching nonsense. Psychologists have linked non-verbal signals such as eye contact, smiling and laughter with social bonding.

A wink is its own peculiar version: a tiny signal aimed at just one person that says there’s some understanding between you.

Maybe that’s partly why I’ve always liked them.

The 1970s were arguably the wink’s natural habitat but there’s room for a 21st century return (Picture: Getty Images)

One of the relatively few memories I have of my paternal grandad is from a big family gathering when I was a kid. There were adults and older cousins everywhere and, as an only child, I probably wasn’t being overly sociable. At some point, my grandad caught my eye across the room and winked.

I can still remember the feeling. For a second, surrounded by all these grown-ups and other grandkids, it felt as though my grandad had quietly informed me that he and I were in the same club.

I was too young to appreciate the idea that we all crave social inclusion, but I felt it. It was nice.

The classic old-school wink is charming, debonair and somewhat harder to pull off than it looks (Picture: Getty Images)

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, this lovely little gesture acquired the air of something that people feel the need to report to someone via email.

Modern culture has to shoulder some of the blame, but the winking emoji in texts, social media, and even email has surely made matters worse. If you need that little yellow face to explain that you’re trying to be fruity, you’ve got no business trying to chat anyone up.

When it comes to flirting, a wink should be punctuation, not an opening paragraph. A cheeky one to someone you know – and know will appreciate it – can be fun. But don’t wink at folk you’re not already familiar with. You’re not Austin Butler.

The wink: suitable for greetings, private jokes and – if you’re Vivica A. Fox – pairing with raising a goblet of Champagne at a sporting event (Picture: Getty Images)

There are some immutable rules to responsible winking that you really have to follow if you’re to take part…

Use one eye only. Blinking slowly with both eyes is for cats and your old man when he’s watching the golf on a Sunday afternoon. 

Never accompany a wink with a click of the tongue and/or finger guns. Not unless you’re deliberately trying to be unbearable. 

Don’t hold it. That’s no longer a wink. That’s an indication that something neurological may be happening. 

And use your winks sparingly. One wink equals warmth and charm. Three winks in a minute is a tic. 

One last tip: If you’re a bad winker, don’t wink. If your entire face collapses like you’re trying to sneeze through one nostril, or your mouth gapes open like an old Looney Tunes character, just nod instead.

Chevy Chase has made this wink much ruder than it needed to be (Picture: Getty Images)

Being a bit old-fashioned is part of the wink’s appeal. Our grandads used to wink and, let’s face it, they were all much, much cooler than any of us have turned out to be.

It’s warm, slightly ridiculous and capable of creating a tiny moment between two people without either having to say anything. A smile’s for everyone in the room. A wink has a target audience of just one.

So I’m carrying on winking. Carefully, responsibly and never with finger guns.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

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