Or a tan looks great with white etc. I read the stylish magazines now and then, so I know.
This matter of fact is possibly why Aussies invite me to tag along with them now and then: until recently, I was their white accessory.
Some of you may remember me touching on the subject of sun previously; it's almost a recurring theme of the blog (okay, I have mentioned the sun twice in three years). There was the skin cancer check-up, many moons ago, and the vitamin D deficiency, fewer moons ago. (Both excellent posts, by the way: you should click here and here and read them.) The sun: it's a hot topic!
Anyway, I'm banging the same old drum today, only now a very different beat.
So there I was, a beacon of translucency, so sunless that a stranger once remarked as I was walking in front of her, 'I haven't seen legs that white since I lived in Ireland, and that was 40 years ago.'
No more, stranger! No more!
If she could see me now! I don't know if it is my switch to 'natural' sunscreen, my generally more relaxed approach to life, or simply the crazy UV levels we’re experiencing since spring melted away, but somehow I am a darker shade of pale. And oh, the shame: I really like it. I keep admiring it (in a tut-tut, mustn't do that again way). And the worst part: I LOVE how my white watch looks against my super-tanned forearm. More white accessories, please!
I used to shake my head at the stupidity of the browned: did they not know what they were storing up for themselves, short and long term? Why do they WANT to damage their skin? Why do they WANT that damage to be visible? What morons, what vanity, what a life choice.
My tan, though. God, it looks excellent. My husband lays the blame for the change squarely at the feet of my new hair colour. 'When you were a redhead, you were always covering up, because redheads need to be more careful in the sun; now you're blonde it's all about the fun times!' Oops. Admittedly, it does seem that way. I didn't mean to get the tan, but, now it's here, I can really see those morons' point of view! Thin (it makes me look thinner!), blonde and tanned; I'm not just living the Australian dream: I am the Australian dream! (In my head, at least. The bona fide Aussies are still way thinner, blonder and tanneder. That's not important, though: my new motto - not that I had an old one - is 'Comparison be the thief of joy'.)
Now, don't worry, those of you who worry. I have recognised that there is a problem. Apparently that is the first step towards something. I have also already rectified this heinous situation - and state of mind - to a degree. I'm no paler, as such, but I have ditched the natural sunscreen for good old chemicals and I certainly don't appear any darker of late (waaah).
I have also been more of an indoor gal during recent extreme heat. I do know the tan isn't a good thing (despite appearances to the contrary). And if I actually burned, I would be furious with myself. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorched.
All this is to say I have to take back my self-righteous thoughts regarding the young, dumb and full of sun. They may know better - deep down - but man, that skin damage looks good.