I have long been a pale girl.
My kind of translucent, blue-veined skin is something you might associate with goths (or emos), movie geeks, vampires, or maybe English nobility. It’s the "before" in a before-and-after pictorial. (Ever notice how all the "befores" in most weight-loss ads or makeovers are usually blindingly pale, and the "afters" are all obvious orange-y tan?)
I do love Cate Blanchett, but let’s face it, practically everyone looks BETTER with a tan. Regardless of everything we now know about the dangers of spending too much time in the sun, tans are still crazy, sexy, cool. I don’t tan. I burn. And my history with self tanners? Scary. One disaster after another. #Meant2BeAGhost
Today, I was over a friend’s house. Like me, she is pale. When I pulled into the driveway, however, she was standing there in a blue T-shirt and white pants, looking suspiciously tan. The whole time we were talking, I found myself gawking at her tan and (inwardly) chiding her for going out in the sun. Doesn’t she know how much damage she’s doing to her skin?
When I got up to leave, she suddenly started asking me about tanning. Why is she asking ME this? I thought. She knows I don't tan, I burn.
At that point, she disappeared into another room and returned carrying 2 small packs of what first looked like Wet-Naps but turned out to be Tan Towels. Her tan, which I’d thought had come from the sun, had actually come from self-tanner in a towelette.
Well, color me surprised.
I mean WOW.
Her faux tan didn’t look streaky or orange. And it didn’t smell like chemicals or burnt cookies like some other self-tanners do. She looked so good, in fact, that I’m way LESS scared of self-tanners now and might actually use the 2 Tan Towels she gave me.
Turns out there’s hope for us blindingly pale girls after all. #Wink
Photo Courtesy: Tan Towel Image, Pinterest