Pale And Proud Of It

Like it always does, Summer is coming again. Every year, about this time, flowers are in bloom, the trees are filled in, and the weather is finally not soul-crushingly depressing. Then there's this one major problem: The sun.

Don't get me wrong, I love it when it's sunny and warm out. I wake up happier in the morning and get home when it's still light out, both very good things.

But I'm pale. Really pale. Not albino, blinding pale, but still. I burn when it's cloudy if I stay outside too long. So when we hit this level of sunshine, I'm immediately on guard. I check for any potential SPF in any product I use. Nail polishes to hair products (I have to protect the part in my hair, because of the ease in which the sun will fry me). Every day I debate regular moisturizer or extra special SPF moisturizer, the latter of which causing an overall smattering of blemishes to appear. I search my lip products for a mere mention of sun protection, and hope that my regular lotion won't have be replaced with baby sunblock. The thing is, I kind of like being pale. My risk of sun-induced skin cancer is reduced, I never get sunburnt, and I get to be Snow White every year for Halloween.

150 years ago paleness denoted status: those who didn't have to work outside. Later, being tanned denoted status: those who could afford tropical vacations and also afford them often enough to keep their color. Now, with the popularity of self-tanners and tanning beds it's too easy to "tan". Anyone who has the will to pull together the cash can easily buy the fake stuff, or get a membership to a "Salon". I use the quotes ironically, because I can't figure out what font denotes sarcastic derision.

The look ends up being ghastly, leathery and wrinkled, or orange and totally unnatural. Of the two, I feel less strongly about tanning beds. At least it's honest about being a concentrated box of all that stuff that gives you a tan. And cancer, of course. The fake tans, on the other hand, are so obviously a lie. Bright freaking orange and streaky most of the time. It's alarmingly false, like they've been exposed to radiation and may grow an extra appendage at any moment.

I know I could get a tan if I really tried. Go tanning for a minute a day, then two, then three, and so on. Or buy the boxed stuff and feel like some overgrown Oompa-Loompa. But I'd rather look like the book-reading, video game-playing, knitter that I really am.