then I prefer to be tan.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that pale skin is healthier but unless it’s Cate Blanchett flawless it isn’t necessarily prettier. (I would kill to have her skin.) And when your pale is more like a milked-down pea green, having a bit of color is more flattering. At least you can where green and not be mistaken for an Orion.) I say this because I realized that I’m tan; something that I haven’t been for years.
Growing up in Palm Springs, I used to ditch school to lay out in the sun. Unlike many of the girls I knew I always wore sunscreen (nothing higher than a 6 but I reapplied it often). Before that in my tween years, I shunned the sun. I wanted to be a ballerina and ballerinas are pale. So while my mom was out in 120-degree heat worshiping the sun, I was running around in sweatshirts and pants and hiding inside. I can see both sides of the skin-loving spectrum.
Now that I’m older and my sun-loving days are tattoo’d on my face, I’m sun smart—sunscreen and shade and ditching the rays between 12 and 4. Since I’ve been back in LA, I’m outside more than I have been in years, whether I’m exercising, runnning errands or playing in the park. I take precautions—sunscreen and repeat, wearing a hat and long-sleeves—but I have still managed to turn a golden hue. This makes me think that being pale may been a bit boring. My tan is the product of a life spent enjoying everything around me. If I live my life shunnng the sun, I’m afraid I won’t enjoy it as much.