I give you my legs ("Exhibit A").
Now, I give you my leg next to coworker Julie's leg ("Exhibit B"). She hasn't even started working on her "base tan" yet.
I do not want to be tan. I like being pale. I've never understood the draw of tanning beds or - worse - baking on the beach. I don't like self-tanner either. In my world (the one in my imagination, also known as "My Happy Place"), only farmhands have tans. And I'm not a farmhand.
So there it is, out in the open. I'm wearing skirts or dresses at least five days a week this summer and if anyone has a problem with that they can bite my pasty white ankles.
Mm-hmm... and what exactly are these tanned farmhands doing while in your imagination?
ReplyDeleteBeauty knows no skin tone.
ReplyDeleteJason: It's a little vague, but something about tanned (and muscular...and sweaty) farmhands coming in from a hard day of pulling up potatoes...I think that's a whole other post...
ReplyDeleteTJ: Right on, brother-man. While I enjoy my pale-ness (pallor?), I also think rugged is beautiful and rugged is usually tan. At least from the neck up and sleeves down.
Rawrr to both of you.
I'm with you on this, 100%. I'm also so white I'm nearly green... and I say to those who want me to bake/tan/dye my skin along with them: "I was BORN this color - this is the way I'm SUPPOSED to look."
ReplyDeleteAside from the stupidity of worrying about what color you are, there's the whole topic of skin cancer! Who needs it?
I'm rugged and tanned but not a farmhand.
ReplyDeleteTJ - two out of three ain't bad.
ReplyDeleteHot shoes. Very hot shoes.
ReplyDelete