In my entire entity (all 16 years of it) only once have I had a spray tan. I feel it’s semi-excusable as it was done in an ironic pre prom panic. Alongside hair and nail appointments, teen girls have gone crazy for having their bodies painted. For all that have managed to escape the experience, it’s the equivalent to getting naked, wearing a paper thong and making small talk with a stranger. Simultaneously. As an awkward teenager, I cringed. Majorly. Especially when she started talking to me about my friends who I had come with, congratulating one on their height as she sprayed my bum florescent orange.
To put the (luminous) cherry on the cake, I stunk. Not in the classic hormones and lack of deodorant teenage boy way that some of the boys my age do. For I had the worse fate, I had volunteered and actually pay someone to engulf me in an even worse odor. I smelt sickly sweet and similar to girls in my year with teeth almost as white as their bleached blonde hair. A lot of slack was thrown my way that night. However, despite the horror of the ordeal I felt great. I was positively glowing and my teeth and hair looked lighter in comparison. Even my mum said I looked healthier than in my natural pale skin.
Love your skin
Model Lily Cole taught me to love my skin. I saw the beauty within in her eyes, not the pigmentation of her skin. Cliché as it sounds a pale body can offer a blank canvas to paint with achievements (or a pot of liquid eyeliner if that improves your confidence). Opting for the bottle, or can, as opposed to hours of sun exposure has also proven to be safer. Whilst risking staining your sheets you don’t have to worry about skin damage.
Linked with orange skin are reality TV celebs such as the TOWIE crew and even, much to their dismay, those kids from Chelsea (Binky I’m blaming you). Great writers and renowned geneticists aren’t trademarked for slapping on the ‘natural glow’ moisturizer. But many still do. In my mind, orange skin signifies someone whose priorities stand in the wrong place but this is simply a generalization the world has taken to heart.
However, it does not go wrong for all. As much as it pains me to admit, it there is a minority of the population who has perfected the art. They even exfoliate before hand. See, I would not even know how to exfoliate. To me it just sounds like a method of medieval torture. Perhaps that is where I’m going wrong? Regardless of where my area of failure is (I may be so led astray on how you’re supposed to do it it’d be impossible to pinpoint) some are absolutely rocking it. Come Saturday night my best friend Tania converts herself into a bronze goddess. Even if she slightly fucks up her hands.
With recent research showing over half a million people have stopped buying fake tan/ not had a tanning treatment for over the past 12 months, Caucasian Brits are embracing their pale heritage and inevitable fate of burning. While saving money, time and sheets in the process. Say goodbye to glares on the street and hello to non-streaky feet. Let’s hope it snows this winter so the nation can practice camouflaging.
