Ah, summer. Just as the first rays of sunshine begin to penetrate the clouds and the rain gives way to rainbows, you can almost hear the sound of those hardcore tanners sprinting to the bathroom for a bottle of spray on oil and their barely there bikini. Complete with a towel and a supersized pair of sunnies, they can lay in the sun for hours moving only to rotate like a chicken on a spit in order to make sure their body is evenly bronzed. They soak up the sun like my skin does moisturiser after a night out, begging for every last drop of Vitamin D until they retreat to their bedroom to slap on the aftersun with added shimmer for a Beyonce glow as I’m sat under a parasol donning a long sleeved kaftan and slapping on the factor 75 before I even deign to venture out from underneath my safety brolly.
That’s right ladies, I belong to the pale girls club. I’m infamously transparent and the most I gain from the sunshine is another smattering of freckles to my forehead and shoulders. It’s funny to think that people say that having freckles means that the sun loves you or you’ve been kissed by the sun or some made up bullshit to make pale people feel special. Lets get this right, the sun does not love us. The sun hates us, we repel the sun, the sun makes us its bitch yet each year we try in vain to win the suns affections.. to no avail.
Lets talk about what summer REALLY means to us pale gals, hey?
It’s summer, lets crack out the brighty whiteys because they look so good. WRONG, they look good IF you’ve got a tan. If you’re pale the only thing “summery whites” is going to do for you is make you look like Carrigan from Caspar as a ghost. Or if you’re me, his uncle Fatso.