Well my fellow fashionistas (it is a word, trust me!) I just got back from a vacation in Miami… and now have the curse of the dreaded tan lines. I didn’t notice them while I was away, and I really tried not to get them, but there’s only so much you can take off and not get arrested. I found myself wading through my closet yesterday morning, hunting for clothes that complement my tan lines. Ok, not so much complement them, as… hide them! make me look like I have an all over tan when I don’t!
Girls… it didn’t work. Every top I tried seemed to show something, so short of dressing like I was headed for a pheasant hunt with Lord Snobberly-Snob, I found myself in despair. The it struck me… like a bolt of lightening… like those little cartoon light bulbs denoting an idea. Fake tan! Oh yes! I could fill in the lines with fake tan! Nobody would notice, right? Erm… wrong.
OK girls, the first thing you have to know about fake tans is that they need to be even. You cannot, I repeat, you CANNOT fill in tan lines like the pictures in your coloring books that you loved as a child. (I was particularly good at birds–my robin red breast was legendary!)
So let me tell you how it went… I started off a sort of dark milky coffee… somewhere between latte and cappuccino, with little shoulder and back stripes of milkiness. First application wasn’t dark enough, so I did a second… and a third to try to make it darker. Then I read on the bottle that it gets darker after 12hrs, so I decided to leave it till this morning to see how it looked. I’d like you now to imagine, if you will, those stripes of milkiness replaced with stripes of… carrotness. Oh my. Yes… orange. ORANGE! I looked like one of those weird colored candies that everybody picks up and looks at, and then puts back in the bag to look for something with fewer unnatural colors.
And worse still… I kind of sort of forgot to wash my hands immediately as instructed to do by the manufacturers. Well, if you ever saw the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory… remember the Oompah-Loompahs? The little orange people? I had their hands.
So… I decided to wash it off, or rather attempt to scrub it off. And all I can say is: how many layers of skin does it take to get this @*&&@*&$ stuff off??? I’m almost hitting bone! I can’t put my hands under anything other than cold water cos they’re so sensitive to heat now! you can actually see my vital organs through my now wafer-thin skin! My wardrobe choices have been limited to silks and satins, cos my poor skin is too tender for harsh cottons or wools… and let me tell you, that loofah and me will not be sharing a shower again in quite some time. Girls, do not try this at home.
Next year… I’m staying home! Tan shman!















