My Life as a Tan Addict

8 minute read

Growing up a (very) pale, dark-haired and freckly Irish girl, I was slightly smitten on family holidays by Mediterranean women lounging nonchalantly on beaches - all olive tanned and toned - the audacity of their beauty. They were extremely exotic to me.

Fast forward to my later teens a bit, and my first discovery of fake tan. Make no mistake, it was a moment. I was still in school, so it was pre-1993, possibly 1991-ish. I can’t recall the brand, but in my mind’s eye, I can still see the tube and my sensorial memory can still detect the smell. Believe me, it was truly God-awful - like, the worst. And as for the colour? Well, suffice to say that when we went visiting my mum’s best friend, she whispered quite sincerely into her ear, “I think there’s something wrong with El, she looks jaundiced, you might want to get her seen”. My mum told me this story years after, to save my embarrassment.

Yep, that was my first foray into false tanning. From a whiter shade of pale to a jaundiced shade of yellowy beige. It was not, as I had hoped for, a look.

Nonetheless, I was hooked. I saw that something had a tangible influence over my pale skin and all of a sudden I had options! Or so, my under-developed sense of beauty and, some might say, self-esteem, thought. I wanted to change myself to be like the exotic Mediterranean women - or, at least my friend from junior school, Jenny, who I thought was beautiful.

Point to note: Jenny is half-Indian.

I am the full-Irish.

Forward once more towards my 21st birthday. I was in art college. My whole world had opened up and I was in a brand new crew of people who were fascinating to me. I was endlessly turned on; my brain firing with inspiration and new experiences like clubbing and time spent on the Northside of Dublin This was major in terms of eye-opening for a convent educated shy girl. My heart burst open for my first ever love for my first ever boyfriend, and I was so, so excited for my birthday party, which would have an actual DJ, in a room over the pub I worked in.

I went shopping with my best pal from college and bought a white, short dress. I needed to be brown.

So, I hired a sunbed.

It was a massive thing - a giant folded over UV machine - like a huge toasted sandwich maker, with me being the filler. It took up the entire floor space in my bedroom and, when in use, a neon glow seeped out from under the door, illuminating the hall of our family home. To this day I don’t know how I got away with having it in the house.

I lay on it, cooking myself inside and out for the maximum time I could for the two weeks hire time. Again, the smell is my main memory. That scent of scorching skin so specific to tanning booths. Oh, and the noise of it as it basically microwaved me. It’s bizarre to think about now, knowing what we know.

But I tanned. A bit.

I was still a pale, insecure Irish girl underneath it all; Mediterranean mahogany I was not, but I felt good at the time.

Little did I know of any warnings. Or no - little did I pay attention.

The warnings were there, despite it being the early nineties. We knew about sunbeds, but still, there were women who lay in their gardens with cooking oil covering their flesh and tinfoil ‘reflectors’ made in their kitchens to bounce back the rays and tan under their chins. Most important to not allow a scrap of pale to give the game away.

Jumping forward once more, I left college qualified as a professional makeup artist and moved to London and began working at Space NK, where my real training in niche beauty brands and progressive skincare began. I learned from the best brands such as Kiehls, Elemis, Espa and Eve Lom. SPF and its importance slinked into my lexicon, where it had not been resident before.

Prior to then, suncream was what you put on if you felt you were really, properly burning when out in the sun. 15 at max, 8 ideally. There used to be factors 2 and 4 available too - yes, they were basically just moisturisers.

But in London, I began to learn. And hence I began to care.

One day, one of the brands I was working with brought in one of those lights that show your sun damage via UV light. Sweet Jesus - the patches! Freckles I was used to, I’ve held a permanent smattering over my nose and cheeks since childhood, but this? No, this was far more furious than freckles - this was out and out, undeniable and irreversible sun damage.

No surprises there given my earlier carry-on, right?

skincare to the rescue

Right. So, I got on a good skincare regime - a perk of the job as a makeup artist and skincare expert hired to represent these progressive brands in one of the most innovative beauty industry endeavours in years. When I joined, Space NK had only 4 stores and Nicky Kinnaird, the founder, worked directly with us. We were like a small skin and beauty family - it was so much fun. I used my skincare diligently. It was part of our identity as the Space NK crew.

But I still didn’t use SPF. I still wanted to be brown. I felt too young to be worrying about future-proofing. I cared, but not enough. I didn’t equate sun with lines or pigmentation. Ageing was conceptual to me. I certainly didn’t think about skin cancer. The innocence (ignorance?) of youth.

Being in the beauty industry for so long, one can become a bit desensitized to new launches and product promises - so many promises! The truth lies in the fact that only very few ingredients have the power to actually change or improve your skin and they make up the pillars of effective skincare. A regime consisting of cleansers, acid-based toners, vitamin C, peptides, retinol and SPF is basically the best the industry can offer us in terms of working with skin as it ages, but it will iterate and iterate around its relentless marketing calendar until the proverbial cows come home.

And someone will always buy it. All of it.

St. Tropez

But as desensitized as I was becoming, I distinctly remember the launch of St. Tropez tan. I remember the ads in magazines - I remember the premise and promise - a dark brown coloured lotion, with undertones of green, that somehow, apparently, reacted to the melanin in your own skin to turn a tan tone that would be bespoke to ourselves. I WAS HOOKED. Signed, sealed, delivered, I was in.

My first bottle of St.Tropez gave me a buzz for beauty again. I applied carefully and waited for it to develop. I was hopeful to see it warm my Celtic limbs to something less cadaver-like. I waited with glee to discover, a few hours later, a result that was... ok-ish. Not brown, certainly not Mediterranean, but warmer. Kind of. And a bit streaky.

The arrival of Gradual Tans

Fast forward to the launch of Johnson & Johnson Holiday Skin - the first of the gradual tans to hit the mass market. Another product I embraced with absolute joy. What an idea! Tan mixed with moisturiser! To avoid streaks! And so cheap!

It worked ok. It smelled a lot.

And from right there, that moment in time, there appeared to be a tan explosion. It was all friends spoke about, tips were passed around like secrets in a pre-Whatsapp world. Lancome Leg gel used on the face, warnings of which tan was too sparkly (iridescence was a major factor then), the Rimmel Sun Shimmer instant tan and its specific dark red staining on palms - we didn’t have gloves to apply then, and certainly none of the new body brushes designed to buff on tan seamlessly.

Let’s not mention the horrors of Sally Hansen leg spray - some girls even began to wear it as a foundation! And soon after, spray foundations were actually released to the market. Do you see? Iterate, iterate. Product after product. The evolution of tan was a haphazard affair.

The next tan launch I was excited by was years later with Marissa Carter’s tan - Cocoa Brown - her pink packaging so distinct, so eye-catching. She cleverly capitalized on her thriving spray tan business in her salon in South Dublin, met with manufacturers and distributors, the Kardashians wore it, and so, a global beauty brand was born. The Cocoa Brown Gradual Tan, Gentle Bronze, soon took over as best in class and I even used it with the pink glove that accompanied it.

a Tanning Evolution

Product innovation and standards were maturing and improving, and so, in tandem was I: my self-esteem grew up at last. And so then, all of a sudden, I stopped wearing tan entirely.

Something changed around the time I hit 40. I felt more at home in my skin. I had become a mother to two daughters and weathered the storm of their early years and separating from their father. That stuff moves you along. You evolve.

And there comes a day when you look in the mirror and see your reflection - pale and freckled - and think, I’m ok with her actually.

And from then on, perhaps it’s that mother thing that makes you scared on planes when you never were before (in case the plane goes down and your kids are left motherless), but suddenly my focus shifted to taking care of myself rather than changing myself. Your forties become reflective and thoughtful. You are more engaged about health and happiness than you were before. Interest in beauty is via supporting your skin to look great as it ages, not covering it up or hiding it - or dyeing it brown.

Now, the 46-year-old me uses SPF daily and is excited about how great they are. The latest category of hybrids really interests me - those that are skincare and SPF with a bit of coverage or glow. Trinny’s BFF Cream with SPF 30, Super Goop’s Glow Screen and Avene’s tinted SPF 50 all offer skin a gold star in glow.

on being anti-anti-ageing

I may not be able to turn back the clock and erase the pigment patches revealed by UV lamplight, but I can protect and perfect (to use another brand’s slogan) from this point on and I can focus on, not anti-ageing, as to be anti-ageing is to deny humanity’s physical evolution and that’s just silly, but positive ageing. It’s a flat fact: our skin is ageing - as is the rest of our body - no follicle or cell is immune to it, so best just get on board and work with it.

And by the way, gradual tans are fantastic now, after a Sali Hughes piece recently my interest was piqued again by her words and I jumped back in with a remnant spark of that initial curiosity, applying Vita Liberata’s Gradual Tan to my entire body. And closing the circle somewhat, I also used the St. Tropez Face Mist on my face - a new product innovation for old time’s sake.

And guess what happened?

I look quite sunkissed - in a really natural way - not jaundiced, streaky or stained, just healthy - with my freckles showing and wearing my SPF50 on sunny days (30 on dull).

We all learn our lessons eventually, don’t we?

Ellie Balfe, June 2021