Tan lines
For most of my teenage years, the weekends and after school hours from April to October were spent at the lake or in someone’s backyard - trying to achieve a perfect tan. This was a serious task. One could not make alternate plans during the hours of 10 and 2 (prime tanning hours) and there was a specific method of rotation to ensure even sides. My entire plans for a weekend could be nothing but “laying out”. My friend Holly (hey Sis H!) and I would actually climb up to her black shingled rooftop and bake our bodies with baby oil. The thinking was, that we would get tan faster if we could be even closer to the sun. My peachy complexion would always, always turn pink and burn before I could achieve a golden glow. I remember comparing my shade of “tan” to that of a fire-engine or lobster on more than one occasion. Luckily, I was also blessed (?) with oily skin, so the sun damage and sunburns usually would heal up pretty quickly with the extra oil and moisture my skin would produce.
Even today, I have very sensitive skin, even moreso than my kids. We can all be at a playdate at a park for a couple hours, sans sunscreen, and I am the only one who goes home with red shoulders and pink cheeks. Needless to say, my days of just lying in the sun for hours is over. So are my days of comparing tan lines with my girlfriends. That is, unless you count my feet.
In my new mommy life, I now have a sweet farmer tan. Or to be more precise, a mommy-playgroup tan. My face, shoulders, and arms are nice and brown, as are my feet - except for the lovely flip flop tan lines. My legs and mid-section are lily-white. If you looked at me naked in the dark and squinted - I am sure it would look like I was wearing a white tank top jumpsuit - capri length. Am I hot or what?
Hmm - maybe I need to branch out and wear something other than flip-flops on my feet one of these days…
Oh, and Happy Fourth of July y’all!
