IF YOU ask me, the good folk who created avatars must have been baby boomers.

They must have been born sometime between 1946 and 1964, and they must have played with paper dolls. Must have. How else do you explain the close similarity in concept between paper dolls and today’s avatars? 

Paper dolls were those sheets of paper you bought for a few cents when you were little. You then pressed out the doll cutout and hung clothes and put bracelets and shoes – via tiny fold-back tabs – on the dolly.

An avatar is your digital likeness of being. And you also tog her out.

But there are big differences.

It used to be that playing with paper dolls was a girl thing. Today, playing with avatars is a geek thing – that brotherhood of guys who shoot, slay and strum in game genres from first-person-shooters to music bands.

Also, the old inanimate dolly was just that – a hard copy Barbie. But today’s avatars represent you. And that’s the thing, I’ll wager, that hooks people into the avatar craze: vanity fuels the desire to make these mirror images of you look good, so you feel good.

Why, some avatar merchandise are highly sought-after items. For instance, as of Oct 8, you can buy NFL jerseys on Avatar Marketplace, the Xbox Live’s online mall.

Some people even spend real money buying an online wardrobe – from tops to tattoos and all sorts of headgear and footwear in between. (Read about it in Digital Life’s cover story on Oct 14.)

If it seems somewhat pointless - all this serious activity - just to soup up a visual icon of yourself, it probably is. Other than the kick you get from kitting out your likeness, I don’t see much else of worth to it.

But truth be told, I have an avatar too. Courtesy of Yahoo. It lets me dress me in my choice of a pale green polo T-shirt, white biker pants, a pink bicycle and a wink. For the background, I chose my most favourite place in the whole world – the seaside.

It’s been at least six months ago that I created my avatar; I had stumbled on the free service when I signed off from my Yahoo e-mail account. But after the initial experimenting, I got bored and forgot all about mini me.

Now, avatars seem hot once more: even staid British newspaper, Guardian, is asking its online contributors to use at least an avatar, if not a real photo, when posting articles.

So, I may visit my avatar again. Head to an Avatar Town (like a mini mall), and click on skirt or surfboard for a change of clothes or a new prop. Give myself a make over.

What can I say? Vanity calls.