Liquid Sunshine: The spray tan

I never thought I’d say this, but today I was a body model. I’d always thought there was more chance that camels might fly, but this morning, I found myself standing semi-naked in a tent, being sprayed with a liquid I can only describe as the colour of black coffee.

Its name: St Tropez – something you’d think you wouldn’t need in Dubai. But, as I’ve discovered, the winter (and middle of summer) here can actually leave you maybe not exactly waxy-white, but definitely on the pasty side.

Work has gone really slow, and so when I was offered a free professional fake tan as part of a training session, I said yes immediately, and had visions of turning nut brown while having all my knots massaged away by warm, enveloping hands.

And fire …

And fire …

At least that’s how I remembered it from the only other time I’ve had a fake tan done, just before my wedding 11 years ago.

This morning, while striking various poses in the polythene, pop-up tent – as a lady took aim at me with a fully loaded spray gun – I realised that technology has moved on since then. “Eyes closed,” she ordered, before blitzing my face with a mist of fake tan. ‘Turn … and turn again. Arms up … Elbows out … Face the other way.” (Is this how they spray-paint cars? I wondered.)

“Now lunge …”

She looked so disappointed with my lunge, she did a quick demonstration, and I tried again – only to step back off the towel onto the slippy bit and nearly go flying. It wasn’t the lying down experience I’d envisioned, let me tell you.

Feeling as though I was being trussed up and basted like a turkey, I let her do a second coat and, afterwards, emerged from the cavern – the colour of mahogany!

DH came to pick me up. I’d warned him I’d taken on the appearance of a cigar. And how he laughed when he saw me! “You look like a really well done chicken,” he chortled, clearly worried about the car seat. “Mum, what’s that smell?” asked my oldest, inhaling the distinctive scent. “I really did prefer you when you looked like a peach.” (!)

Given that Catherine the Great spends her whole life trying to look whiter, I have no idea what she must have thought, but she was definitely amused too.

But, I’m happy to report that, after 8 hours and a good shower, it’s now toned down nicely (in fact, it’s great! I glow!), with not an orange patch in sight. I’d even do it again.

Not a sponsored post, but the spray tan took place at Locks By Lou Lou in JLT


About Circles in the Sand

Sun worshiper, journalist, mother, pilot's wife and distracted housewife living in the land of glitz and sand
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One Response to Liquid Sunshine: The spray tan

  1. Expat Mum says:

    Ha ha ha ha. Look like a cigar!
    I’ve only had two spray tans in my life and the first one was so cold I opened my mouth in shock and nearly choked on the stuff that was being sprayed (by a machine). The second time was last year, and all the machines were new. The receptionist told me just to follow the audio instructions once I was in the booth. Trouble was, the machine itself was so loud I couldn’t hear a thing so I just had to improvise – and totally forgot about my inner thighs. Sigh.

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