Why being pale is far superior to being fake tanned
No St Tropez-stained bedsheets over here
The human race comes in a variety of colours, a big ol’ watercolour palette with each and everything in between. The one Pantone shade humans aren’t born in though, is orange.
If you go on a night out in Essex, however, you’ll see enough fake tan to start thinking the contrary. What none of those tan-streaked girls (and guys – we know you use it too boys) realise is they look way worse than if they’d just embraced their pale skin.
Up until the age of 17, I thought St Moriz (St Tropez’s cheaper, tackier younger sister) was my bestie. Me and St Moriz would get ready together for nights out with my fake ID trying to blag glasses of warm rosé from men older than my dad. St Moriz never let me down. St Moriz gave me that “just rolled around in a bath tub full of OXO cubes” glow. Well, that’s what I thought anyway.
My fake tan love affair continued until I became 18 and reflected on all the terrible pictures of me from years gone by, when I thought I was the primo shit. I looked awful and patchy. My every day foundation didn’t match my face tan colour. I stank of a mix between digestives and sweat.
I may be alabaster pale, but at least I don’t look like I haven’t showered in a month anymore. I’ve learned to love my paper-white skin, and I get complimented on it frequently. I’ve finally found a foundation colour which matches my complexion (it’s Nars foundation in Siberia, FYI), and more and more makeup companies are now catering for us paler gals.
I’m also, at any given time, just one sweep of red lipstick away from being a Dita Von Teese tribute act. Life’s good.
Not fake tanning makes my getting ready routine so much easier, too. When I used to fake tan, I’d have to start my party prep two days in advance, making sure I used all the right tanning stages and had to time my showers around when the layers needed to be washed off. Now if someone says “fancy going out?”, I’m just one pair of fake eyelashes and some heels away from getting mortal.
The only clothes colour I don’t suit is white, which is the most inconvenient colour to wear anyway, so I don’t have the “aaah what if the colour doesn’t suit me” issue when ordering online, either.
I hate the heat of holidays, and prefer to sit inside or in the shade. This suits me anyway, because with skin this pale in the sun, I go tomato-red then back to pale with just a hint of flakey skin in between. No brown in sight.
Older people love telling me “royalty in olden times had pale skin because it showed they didn’t have to work”. I used to hate my mum making this extremely tenuous argument when trying to stop me ruining all my bedsheets with tan, but now I’m like: FUCK YEAH, PEASANTS.
At the end of the day, if your paleness makes you sad, stick a Slumber filter over it and move the fuck on. Overall, super pale skin is fab because it’s so different and unique. The only bad thing is when people take photos with flash. Stay far, far away from club photographers, kids.