
It was a passing comment made by my mother that got me thinking... She walked past me, stopped and said 'Errrin, you look teeeerible. I mean you're just soooo pale!'.
I was a little miffed and may have written her an email along the lines of "Whilst I appreciate your concern, I believe your attitude that being tanned somehow makes me healthy perpetuates a stereotype, an extremely dangerous stereotype. That in fact when I am lying in hospital with melanoma I shall remind you of your teeeerible quip that both you and I will long to regret. You for condoning a bronzed beauty ideal for your paleface daughter and I for believing you.'
Slightly over dramatic I know but like I said it got under my skin. I thought to myself; Why do we perceive beauty the way we do? When does it infiltrate our psyche? How do we change it?
I realise that my mother grew up in 70s, a time when slathering on the coconut/vegetable oil was de rigueur but why?
Surely only about ten or so years before it was all about porcelain, powdered paleface perfection. For years women lightened their skin with amazingly healthy products such as lead based paint and arsenic to stay IN with the in crowd. I had in social studies heard some story that in earlier centuries the reason fair was the fairer of them all was linked to social status, for if ye were rich ye were not toiling in the fields all day, rather playing gin rummy, slipping lemonade on your shady porch.
The issue is that we all now know a tan isn't a sign of health rather damaged skin but this doesn't stop my psychology. When my mother told me I looked pale, I went and looked at myself and I felt unwell. Quite simply I felt unattractive.
I also felt confused, because the night before I had been catching up on Mad Men totally crushing on all the fair females. For those who haven't yet caught on; first of all you're about 3 seasons behind so get on to it and second of all the series is set in New York in the 1950s.
I was amazed at just how beautiful all the pasty white ladies were. I thought they were stunning. I longed to live back then. My perception of what's attractive for me is extremely skewed because as a child I was brought up on movies like Some like it Hot, Breakfast at Tiffany's and Rear Window and in all those films Marilyn, Audrey and Grace were all princesses of the paleface. I never once looked at that bevy of beauties and thought 'Ge'ez she looks teeeerible'.
Where along the way had bronzed and beauty been fused?
I decided to go fishing, google fishing that is and with one quick cast of the line; Why is tanning popular? I caught this In the 1920s, Coco Chanel accidentally got sunburnt while visiting the French Riviera. Her fans apparently liked the look and started to adopt darker skin tones themselves. Tanned skin became a trend partly because of Coco’s status and the longing for her lifestyle by other members of society.
There you have it one woman that hold's that elusive je nai sais quoi was the catalyst of change. We all ride the wave of cool and society is a slave to celebrity. We long for their lifestyle. However when I look at tagged magazine pages or looks I love saved to my laptop, they are all of celebs like Sienna, Chloe and Scarlet.
So I grew up watching porcelain lovelies, I style stalk my fairer femmes and yet I don't want to be one? I thought perhaps it's cultural, the bronzed Australian icon? Or was it the fact I saw my mother lie out for hours in the sun trying to get as dark as her lilywhite complexion would cook? I then thought of a friend I have who hails from Africa, and to me sports a wicked chocolatey glow. When we arrived home from 18 months in London, her family exclaimed about how lovely and light her skin was. Hmmmmmm. Then the experience of searching for sunscreen without bleach in it in Thailand flashed across my mind.
Perhaps there's an even simpler explanation, we all want what we don't have. We like to paint a facade like we paint our skin. I decided I would embrace my winter whiteness, rebel against the people, a mutiny I say! Everyone sing along with me 'I AM BEAUTIFUL NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY.YES WORDS and my ingrained psychology CAN'T BRING ME DOWN'.
I lasted three days. In the back of my mind the words le tan in le can kept repeating. And like a junkie to it's crackpipe, I shuffled my way down the supermarket aisles, glancing left to right, hands itching to get a hold of my poison.
Finally as I fell asleep that night with the smell of coconut scented fake n bake I sighed 'and all is right with world'.