It’s a proven scientific fact that pale people suck. Pale people are why the Hefe and X-Pro II filters exist–to make us look like a better looking version of our normal, pasty selves. Much to our dismay, these filters don’t exist in real life, which is why we must go to extreme lengths to maintain a bronzed glow all year long. And for those of you who suffer from a severe case of #albinoproblems like I do, you definitely know that this struggle is real.
Solution #1: Self Tanner
The first solution to the paleness conundrum is obviously using self tanner at home. There are two main problems with this. One is that it fucking reeks. The only comparison I can draw to this odor is that of a fraternity house bathroom the morning after Beer Olympics. And worse yet, it lingers. I literally went through about a third of my 1.7 ounce bottle of perfume yesterday just to cover up the stench, and God knows that won’t be the last time.
The second problem is that it takes an extremely fine eye to apply the cream to every inch of your body. GOD FORBID you miss a few small portions on your back. Chances are, you’ll be the girl with tiger stripes and you’ll look just fabulous on spring break next week. On the flip side, forgetting to wash your hands after applying your self tanner makes way for a guaranteed WTF moment the next morning. Note to self: the whole “my-palms-have-jaundice” look really isn’t cute on anyone.
Solution #2: Airbrushing
The older, more mature cousin of the at home self tanner is airbrushing. Because of my spontaneous ADD, I have major trust issues with airbrushing machines. While I’m zoning out or pondering ways to “mistakenly” run into my ex, the machine beeps away, signaling me to turn–and I miss all of it. So unless you plan on looking like an overdone Snooki in the front and Kristen Stewart in the back, I’d stick with the custom airbrush.
BY FAR the worst thing about the custom airbrush is stripping down for a complete stranger (while sober). Let me just put a hairnet over my sock bun, stick cotton balls up my nose, and get ass-naked for you under fluorescent lights that do a fantastic job of accentuating every inch of cellulite on my body, it’s cool. And to make this whole situation worse, they try to have “normal” conversations with you, which, of course, fail miserably and result in THE most awkward interactions known to mankind. Like, lady, I know you’re just trying to do your job here and make me feel comfortable, but I just had to bend over. In my thong. In your face. There’s really no way of ignoring that.
The best solution I’ve found to this is to have a glass (or four) of vino before you get airbrushed. This helps you loosen up a bit so you can ramble on to your lady like she’s your second therapist. The last time I got spray tanned, I talked to my girl about the message I’d recently received from my male suitor of the month. She overanalyzed the text with me word for word as I was lifting up my tits so she could spray my underboob, and it was great. There really is no better combination than talking about yourself and getting more attractive in the process. So, like, #winning.
By now, most of us have learned that whichever method of fake baking we use, these unfortunate downsides are inevitable. Believe me ladies, I know it blows, but in the wise words of Queen B, “Pretty Hurts.”
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Drunk but not in love
(@DrunkNOTinLove) is a die-hard Splenda addict who requires a constant supply of caffeine and male attention to make it through the day. After graduating with her degree in Economics, she now focuses her energy on adding a "Home" to her degree title by perfecting the "intelligent drunk," and conning a banker into marrying her one day. Originally from New England, she is a hardcore Boston sports fan, but only when boys are around. Almost all of her calories consumed Thursday - Saturday (and the occasional Tuesday) are from $7 bottles of Yellowtail Moscato, and in no way, shape, or form is she fazed by this. All forms of hate mail and date party inquiries can be sent to drunkbutnotinlove@gmail.com
@DrunkNOTinLove
