2007-03-29

In which I experiment with the self-tanner...

To preface: I don't tan. Like, EVER.

I spent the first ten years of my life in Hull, Massachusetts, steps away from Nantasket Beach. In the summer, my parents obliged my sister and I to run about very nearly bollicky bare-assed, with a squirt or two of Coppertone almost as an afterthought (this was the 70's, back when SPF meant diddly-squat, and the older girls in our neighborhood coated themselves hourly with baby oil and iodine). I'm sure I must've had some semblance of a "tan" back then, seeing as I spent HOURS and HOURS playing at the beach nearly every single day, but I don't have much in the way of photographic evidence.

By the time I was thirteen, I'd pretty much abandoned the idea of having a tan. Puberty had thickened me in terribly embarrassing places, and the whole idea of "laying out" was completely foreign and baffling to me. Laying there and doing nothing? Not even READING? So I stayed inside, watching re-runs of "V," eating Doritos, and cultivating what would become the start of my pasty, weird, bookish reputation for the next 6 years.

For some reason, I decided it would be a good idea to go as far away as I possibly could for college. To that end, I went to the first (read: ONLY) school that would accept a bookish-yet-thoroughly-undisciplined kid who graduated in the bottom third of her class. A Benedictine liberal arts college. In Florida. This was deemed hilarious by my handful of pals, given my nearly-translucent complexion. Bets were made as to whether or not I'd last even a full semester. As it turned out, I managed quite well, and never got a tan in the entire four years I lived down there.

I am vigilant about sunblock. Not sunSCREEN. SUNBLOCK. I go through at least a half-dozen bottles of the stuff every summer. Anything that's exposed gets slathered with no less than SPF45...even in between my toes. As a result, I have what I believe to be some pretty nice skin, if you like them Casper types. When I got my second tattoo, the artist took one look at me and said, "I guess I don't really gotta tell you about sunblock."

It gets a little tiresome, though, too...sometimes. A typical conversation at work goes something like this:

Me: I don't feel so great today.
Coworker 1: Huh. Yeah, you look sort of pale.
Coworker 2: How can you TELL?!

So I recently got a little bag of samples from my fav-o-rite store, C.O. Bigelow. Conditioner, eye gel, and a packet of "self tanner."

Hm.

Look, I'm never going to be tan. I lack the genes, I lack the patience, and I lack the willingness to risk stuff like, well, skin cancer. Here's a little packet of stuff that will give me that "San Tropez glow." Maybe.

I doubt very much that this packet contains enough San Tropez glow to cover my entire pasty-assed McSelf, plus I'm too chickenshit to smear it anywhere that I can't keep covered up in the event that this goes terribly awry and I wind up looking like an Oompa-Loompa. So I decide to do a test patch on my bosom (huh huh....bosom). Before doing so, I take a BEFORE shot:

I get to work -- squeezing a quarter-sized, shit-colored glob onto the palm of my hand -- and begin smearing it across my chest, feeling extraordinarily filthy while doing so. I even things out as best as I can, noting that the packet states that it "may appear streaky - this is normal and showering in the morning will uncover a beautiful, even tan." This is all well and good, because right now it looks as though I've been on the receiving end of a "Cleveland Steamer." I go to bed, worrying about what sort of vile chemical process is having its way with my milky white dugs.

In the morning, after my usual ablutions, my bosom looks like this:

I guess it looks....tan....kind of. Or like I haven't washed properly.

Bah. I'm sticking with the baby sunblock this summer.

lisamcc at 9:50 p.m.



2 comments so far
Ma
2007-03-30 07:39:36
Ye Gawds...you look like you have a heinous rash! Did you read the ingredients in that little "packet" before smearing it all over your chest? Stick to the sunblock...you've already got a head start on many of your comtemporaries...as their skins start to sag and wrinkle you'll be looking a lot younger and that ain't a bad thing. Love ya'
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vikkitikkitavi
2007-03-30 12:03:09
I spent the first 30 years of my life avoiding the sun, and now that I live in LA I put sunscreen on my face every single day without fail. Honestly, when I look around at other 46-year-olds, I have to say that I think it's paid off. I must admit though, that I use the tanner on my legs in the spring. It's too hot in LA to wear tights by March, but my legs have turned fish-belly white over the winter. Also, because I am 46, the lack of color makes the veins stand out, and I can't go bare-legged. Not here. So I admit I do use the tanner on the legs until I get enough color of my own. Don't hate me. I live in LA. I don't have fake boobs or blond hair (not even highlights!), but I have fallen victim to the fake tan in just this one little teeny tiny area of my life. Okay?
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