Found this image Online the other day, and thought to myself:
I never wanna be this tan again
A few years ago I worked in a market where the clients required models to be tan, and by tan I mean dark. “Darkness.” You walk the beach, or underneath rows of aligned patios and there they were, all loin-clothed and glistening. Frying under the tropic sun, 3-hours a day, getting pi…..tch Brown for shows, presentations and showroom work, there were the models. Aye que sessy, right? Yeah, right, only to lay in tanning beds, for post tan line clean up for castings.
Wait…[Scratches Head].
Daily. Yeah, it’s like the real life filter.
No, but, see I knew better. So I tried everything: creams, gels, sprays; till I was a lovely shade of plum. (The inside part, not the outside.) Earned me every variant from Victorian cameo to bus-face visages from clients. So hanging my head in shame, I kicked rocks towards the sand, and laid out in the sun, like the rest, “Like, Hunny, who you think you is?”
I could see a change right away. I Could! My skin was dehydrated, there was a change in texture. Everyone was like bwahahaha… Girl, you cray. They could see no change. But I could dammit!
So I did what only a sane person would do. I sat at a casting and stared right into the face of every sand-patio dweller that walk in, and I compared myself. I doe…..n’T Ke’er!
That’s when I came to the realization that those issues along with premature lines and wrinkles were normal to them. Aye-yayae.. So, then I run back to my model dwelling (Seriously, We…..don’t have homes. We live out of either Tumi compartments or the model barracks). Standing in front of the entry way, I catch a glimpse of myself in an oval, framed wall-mirror. Alright, whatever! I was looking in it. [ital] That’s when I see “it.” Then “It.” Then “Theeeeem!!” Oh, fu…..dge! Dark spots, right under my eye had started to appear. O.k. fashion shows, presentations and showroom are one thing. But it’s terrible if you work in beauty. Very bad when you’re young. Worse if you care about your quality of life in the future.
See I was an intern at a cancer hospital two years prior. I witnessed the lifestyle of skin cancer patients first hand- a lifelong sentence to sun hats, umbrellas, sunglasses, head to toe garments, pharmagrade zinc oxide sunscreen and skincare (if you can afford it). It’s a constant search for shade, no beach days, no runs in the park, no loin-cloths, no shorts and tees. You’re doomed to long pants, sleeved shirts, brimmed hats, the indoors in the extreme summer heat. Not as a precaution, but because….. you’re sick. It’s the life sentence in lieu of the death sentence. I want no part of either, and Psssh… Let’s’ face it: I’m special. So I packed my ish and left.
“Well, then what happened?”
What do you think happened?! I was broke. I had no agency. No jobs lined up, and just enough money to buy a supply of Panda Patches to fix my face.
But, I’m healthy and lived ever after. Dassit!
No Comments