Pale is the new tan

I was browsing through some old pictures tonight because... well, I was bored and sometimes it's entertaining to look back on the past and see how ugly/pudgy/pathetic/sloppy drunk you once were. Or maybe that’s just me? Either way I did it and I came across a startling realization: I USED TO BE AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT RACE.


Ok, well not exactly. Technically I’ve always been a whitey (though as a child I told people I was part Native American due to an abnormal obsession with Pocahontas). I guess I should say that tonight I realized that I used to disguise my race, more specifically with a ridiculous amount of tanning, fake tanner and bronzer.

Exhibit A:

2006        ...        2010

That face on the left is the product of countless dollars spent at Desert Sun and a gaudy amount of MAC bronzer. I think the main reason I worked full-time in high school was just so I could afford to burn my skin to death in a tightly enclosed sunny box of death (tanning bed) on a routine basis. I was booking appointments for at least five to six days out of the week. There were also a few occasions where I would ‘salon hop’ between Desert Sun locations and tan twice in one day.

I was a mini-Magda

I’ve obviously given that up now, hence my resemblance to Casper in the picture to the right. I’m comfortable with my translucent skin though. At least I won’t have to worry about developing skin cancer at age thirty. I can also have kids that actually resemble me instead of having to deal with people mistakenly assuming they are my albino children.

The best, however, is that I no longer have to deal with the dull and haughty girls that work behind the tanning salon counter. SCORE.

Dita and I got the pale game on lock.