Today is the day to get jealous of somebody much younger than you.
Book By Its Cover Review: The Perfect Fake Tan
Those of you who have been reading for a long time have been just dying to know, I'm sure, what ever happened of my fake baking tendency. Well, the people have spoken, and certainly didn't shut up (they also still tell me how much I need to do weight training), and that habit has died. Mostly because in one year my skin aged ten years and now I'm covered with age spots before I even hit thirty.
So vanity is tricky. On the one hand, I still would like to be tan, partially because I think I look better, but also because I always see those summer girls, the ones who have their bikini straps sticking out of the tank top, whose hair is perfectly wind-blown, who are nice and tan and toasty and look like they enjoy laying out on the beach for hours and hours (unlike some of us, who find it hot, greasy, dirty, buggy and otherwise not that much fun.) They look good. They look happy. If I'm as tan as them, then I'll look good too.
So, I hate the beach and I can't do the tanning coffin, so what's left? The fake tan.
Always promoted as being such an easy, good solution, the awful truth is that it's actually a way to pay to disfigure yourself.
At this moment, I am about four different colors, thanks to a spray-on tan that I bought that looked really simple (and also it had a pretty copper-colored can, plus the woman at the counter kind of bullied me into buying it.) Will I use it again? Of course! It's my fault that I didn't put it on right. Plus, if I ever do get it right, I'm going to look great.
There is the Mystic Tan, too, which I have partaken of, but I reserve that only for special occasions. Why? Because it costs $35 a pop. And also, I really like to reserve weddings, special vacations and reunions as the times where I acquire the look of having stuck my fingers and toes in orange mud.
One day I'll get it right, I mean, how hard can it be? I've only been doing this for about four years now and I'm sure eventually I'll get it right: probably at exactly the age where I realize that I'm wrinkled despite my SPF-15 face lotion.
(By the way, yes, I exfoliate. Maybe I'm just not doing it enough.)