I felt like a slave to fake tan — here's what happened when I gave it up for a day
I love how my skin glows when I wear it and how it makes me look slimmer, but I resent being so reliant on it. How would I feel if I didn’t wear tan from a tube?
Colour co-ordinated: Sinead loves the glow that fake tan creates and equally loves the compliments that follow.
I have a love-hate relationship with fake tan. I’ve spent half my life wearing it. I love the glow it gives your skin, the compliments that follow, and I love how it camouflages a few extra pounds. So where does the hate come in?
Well, you know that feeling when something is so good, it’s almost bad? Think spice bags, coffee addiction, and doom scrolling. The feeling of being a bronzed goddess is so divine that you can end up being at its mercy.
We’ve come a long way with tan. Who remembers when tanning wipes first came on the scene, in the early noughties, and you would glide them over your skin as you got ready for the teenage disco? It was when instant tan was all the rage and ‘Sally’ was having her moment. Your clothes getting stained and smelling like biscuits was par for the course. Ah, those were simpler times.
Now, fake tan has moved from being an anomaly to a way of life. Something that you booked into the salon for once or twice a year, for a big event, is now a weekly ‘Tanning Thursday’. My biggest problem with tan is that I hate being a slave to it.
Something that was once a finishing touch now feels like a necessity, but is there another way?
I was planning an outfit for work last week and decided on a sleeveless waistcoat. After a long day, I was exhausted and ready to crash. But just as my head was about to hit the pillow, I had an argument with myself —should I get the bottle and mitt out and prolong my bedtime by a few more minutes?
My arms would be on full display the next day, after all. It would also mean I’d have to get up an extra half hour early in the morning to wash it off. I suddenly realised the burden I place on myself on a weekly basis to hide my naturally pale skin. It’s not that I never venture out the door without it, but to go full-arms-out felt a little daring, even bold. I bargained with myself to do it once and see how it felt.
I definitely felt a little exposed walking around the office, but something about it also felt liberating. You do get funny looks from people, but probably not because they disapprove, but because they are so accustomed to the tanned version of you. A bit like the one time a month you don’t wear make-up to the office and you get the ‘are you sick?’ comment. No Susan, this is just how my face looks, but thank you so much for your concern.
Sinead Kehoe: Fake tan has moved from being an anomaly to a way of life
Seeing fair-skinned beauties, like Emma Stone, Jessica Chastain and Anna Hendrick, walk the red carpet without a faux glow certainly helps us mere mortals find the confidence to do the same.
Closer to home, presenter and former model Roz Purcell has been chronicling her tan-free journey on Instagram, which began with her attending the Wicked premiere without a drop of liquid sunshine. The 34-year-old admitted she hadn’t gone without since she was about 13. Honestly, it was inspiring to see how beautiful she looked without it.
It seems I wasn’t the only fair-skinned girl feeling empowered by Roz, with dozens of comments asking her what make-up products she was using to match her complexion.
Angela Scanlon is another Irish beauty, who, despite being in the spotlight, is a nonconformist when it comes to fake tan. She was a bold outlier in last year's Strictly Come Dancing competition, getting her white pins out every Saturday night as she performed a new dance routine. Quite the rebellious act, given that tan is to ballroom what butter is to toast.
The press around her appearance on the show seemed to be dominated by questions about why she was choosing to embrace her natural skin tone. Her reasoning was captured best on ITV’s Lorraine.
“I have two young daughters and if I’m telling them to be comfortable in their own skin and embrace what they have, and if I don’t embody that myself, it feels a little hypocritical.” It’s hard to argue with that.
