tales of a tanner

Last night I hit a major milestone in my just-over-one-year relationship with the boy. I self-tanned. In front of him. I think he already knew I use and abuse the stuff - there's no way I'd be golden in early March if it wasn't for my tan in a can. But this is one of those things that I've always reserved for the solitude of my bathroom at 10:30pm just before jumping into bed in my loosest-fitting black t-shirt. And so last night, the process was revealed...

All experienced self-tanners know that applying a tan is an art. You start at the feet, possibly with a light formula. Then you do the calves, thighs, back, tummy, chest, and so on, using a circular motion and being SUPER careful to get every millimeter of your body. The whole process sort of looks like you're applying plain old lotion, but there's a lot less room for error with self-tanner.

He sat there looking kind of confused - as any guy would, I suppose - and went on to comment and ask questions about this rather unfamiliar beauty ritual:

Him: Why do you do this before bed? (Me: Because putting my day clothes on afterwards is one of the most uncomfortably sticky sensations in the world. Plus, I don't like to smell like self-tanner when I'm at work).

Him: So...uh...you tan EVERYWHERE? (Me: Yes, because tan legs and a white tush just doesn't make me happy. So what? I like tan cheeks, sue me).

Him: You know, that stuff is probably just as bad as the real sun.

(Me, getting very defensive: It is LOTION. It doesn't penetrate the deep layers of skin the way the sun's harmful rays do. The only "harmful" things in the bottle are probably the parabens and other chemicals that are in every other beauty product. I just tend to ignore the potential dangers of those).

Him: Wow, you're getting blacker by the second. (Me: Not possible. This stuff takes at least four hours to fully develop.)

Note: by now, I'm sure he's amused by my seriousness of this whole thing, and how diligently I'm applying.

Him: You missed a spot. (Me: What!? WHERE? Not funny.)

This whole self-tanning fiasco made me realize that when it comes to grooming, I really think most guys have NO idea how much time, money, and effort we invest. Think about most guys you know. Their beauty routine is: Wash body. Shave face. Trim nails. If they're feeling ambitious, they MIGHT put a little gel in their hair.

Now, think of a few women you know. Chances are, most of them have spent at least 15 minutes on their hair today, gotten a manicure in the past week, applied makeup, reapplied lip gloss at least twice today, shaved their legs, lotioned their bodies, plucked a hair from somewhere, and lord knows what else. I'm tired just typing all this, but I'll never complain. Taking care of one's appearance is rewarding, and leaving your house feeling all primped and glossy is priceless. (Sorry, I couldn't resist).