Spring is being fickle and very non-committal ’round these parts. One day it graces us with its presence… the next day it is nowhere to be found. Short sleeved shirts and sandals are in constant rotation with heavy sweaters and boots. It is becoming rather frustrating as the sunny days leave me wanting more. Spring is an equal to Fall as being my most favorite season. But this year’s attitude of teasing, taunting and wavering ways leaves me questioning my loyalty to the season that promises to bring April showers and May flowers.
One of the reasons I adore Spring is the chance to bare some skin in an attempt to banish my winter white hue. Nothing says sunny days are here to stay any better than skin boasting a golden glow. My natural skin tone falls in the category of blindingly pale. However, I’m fortunate that I tan easily…just not deeply. Through the years I’ve spent a fair amount of time basking in the sun and baking away in tanning beds in an attempt to achieve a deep, dark tan. And it really never happens. As a result, I shudder to think of the damage I have done to my skin.
Many years ago, I was admiring… in a rather jealous manner… the beautiful tan of a friend. Assuming the only way she could have acquired such a deep, golden color was by lying on Caribbean beaches, my jealousy may have reached a level of friendly “hate”. Imagine my shock when she confessed to “getting” her tan from a bottle!
Prior to her revelation, my experiences with sunless tanner had not gone so well. But after the beauty of what I saw that day, I dared to believe all my tanning troubles were over. I immediately sought out and purchased my very own bottle of sunshine! And I can say, for the most part, our relationship has been a good one.
Much like I love Spring, I also love my sunless tanner. Most of the time Spring brings welcomed sunshine and warmer temperatures while my sunless tanner usually provides a streak freak faux tan. But just like my relationship with Spring is experiencing troubled waters, sunless tanners can also choose to not always “play nice”. Below is a story of one such moment.
It was a beautiful day at sea in the middle of June. The year was 1998. My kiddos were having the time of their lives participating in all the age appropriate activities only a Disney cruise could offer. It had been a super hectic start to Summer so my chance to acquire a real tan was non-existent. Knowing I would be donning a swimsuit, I figured a sunless tan would be a safe and direct route to lessening my winter white “glare”. I chose a never before used, but highly recommended product. And it worked. I lucked out with a reasonably even application and a somewhat natural glow. I felt pretty darn good sporting my not-so-orange tan from a bottle…as good as any woman needing to shed a few pounds can feel while sporting a bikini. (For all the details of my relationship/nightmare with bikinis, go HERE).
Since we were at sea and my kids were occupied, my husband and I decided to soak up some rays. A good book and a possible nap was in my future. We took our over-sized, fluffy, white towels provided by the ship and claimed our space on deck. As expected, the book was good but the nap was better.
Feeling refreshed and somewhat sweaty, it was time to retrieve the munchkins from their afternoon of playtime. As I stood to leave, the where-can-I-hide-cause-this-is-a-not-so-good moment happened. There on the beautiful white fluffy towel was a rusty brown outline of my body compliments of my self-tanner.
I suppose it was fitting that the image resembled that of a dead body at a crime scene…
I basically died on the spot!