I don’t do tanning beds.
Wwweellll . . . I don’t do tanning beds normally. I have been desperate for color before prom, my wedding, every once in a while for spring and gone to a few sessions in a tanning bed to get a little glow going.
I know, I know, tanning beds are bad, the sun is bad, rubbing Crisco on my legs and laying out on my roof in high school was really bad. But here is the thing. I am white. I don’t mean I am pigmently challenged or have trouble maintaining color through-out the season. I mean I am WHITE. White as in you need sunglasses to look at my bare skin.
Then my good friend Natasha calls me. “Hey Jessi, I am starting a spray tanning business and need to practice my technique. Can I practice on you?” I was at her door in 5.6 minutes.
Here is the thing. I have been rubbing sunless creams, spritzers, and cloths all over my body for two weeks. See, it is spring and my husband and I are supposed to be getting are bodies boat-ready. I have been eating carrots instead of cookies, walking the dog a night, and trying desperately to apply some type of shading to my winter-sized thighs. My husband, who is disgustingly naturally tan and has the metabolism of a much younger and more active man, has made the big switch from Extra Large Pork Sandwiches to Medium Pork Sandwiches and is ordering his sausage biscuits without gravy now. That is a little off topic but I think it that a man’s metabolism is so unfair that it was worth mentioning.
So here I go off to Natasha’s house. I am hoping that she can just cut down on the glare created when the sun hits my ever-white skin as I struggle into my bathing suit for the first time in nine months. No matter how you prepare for that moment, that first look into the mirror is always a shocker.
So I go, I strip down to my under garments (this is a family blog) and stand as she spray what she has proclaimed as a miracle mixture over by body. As I have said, I am very hopeful about this product and the results. So I stand, turn, turn again and dry. Then I head off to the mirror. . .
NOTHING and I mean NOTHING could have prepared me for what I saw. In four minutes I had gone from ghostly pale to a golden goddess. I was TAN. Not orange, not brown, not spotty. I was head to toe gorgeous. I don’t know what I was expecting but this far exceeded all of that. The tan was natural looking and even. I looked skinner! And even in my undergarments I could tell, that bathing suit was going to be no problem! I happily redressed and headed home singing.
This is where my new look surprised me a second time. My husband, the naturally brown guy with the incredible metabolism, is a great man. He is, however, a man. He has not noticed a haircut, said an outfit looked good without even looking at it, and bless him even told me the truth about a few outfits I loved. So I am not expecting much from him on the whole tan thing. In he walks from work and he simply stops short at the door. “Wow” he says, “You look good!” And he continues, all night, the next day, and all week. He comments on it, tells me how nice I look, kisses, hugs, even holds hand in the parking lot! I am loving it.
So, I am a fan and this is my endorsement. Golden Sol has given me the ability to tan, guilt free, without damaging my skin. Every time I walk out of the tent I feel skinnier, sexier, and more confident. Everyone should feel this good about their body!
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