Fake Tan and Motherhood: A Conundrum
AKA, a super vapid post centered around my own tried-&-true shallow pool of vanity
I’m an admitted lover of fake tan. Like, BIG love. I wear it year-round and have never had a problem with looking like I just got back from the Bahamas all winter. No fake tan is too dark—in fact, I’m still on the search for the darkest faux bronze in the world. I started as a teenager and have gone through every evolution in the fake tan industry— Oompa Loompa phases and all. No, really, slap my ass and call me Clementine because I have been EVERY shade of orange in the name of vanity.
And let me tell you, I’d rather be the most Willy Wonka shade of tangerine over my own brand of translucent, liver-spotted understudy from a 2nd rate Macbeth play.
People talk about things they sacrifice or lose when they become mothers. But no one talks about how the almighty quest for babyproof fake tan takes over your life as soon as April rears its ugly sunny head.
And being waterproof does not equal babyproof, my friends.
Let me back up a little.
At 35, right before I got pregnant with the bebe, I had found a handful of favorites, ahead-of-their-time fake tans. But your entire chemistry takes on a whole new form (several, actually) when you’re pregnant, and things that are otherwise normal in your routine regimen react completely differently. You’re not just growing out of your clothes—you’re growing out of your trusted skincare, holy grail hair products, and overpriced foundation. Fake tan is a part of this, too. I had to restart a search for pregnant friendly fake tan that wouldn’t turn me a reptilian shade of green.
And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I did, the due date approached. Which meant I’d have to get smart, savvy, and scaled back when it came to my faux glow. Wasn’t a fan of the whole idea of sweating streaks of rusty brown onto myself, my kid, and everyone else in the delivery room. (I went with Jergen’s gradual tan, if you’re wondering. It was meh, but gave me just the flush I needed when my blood pressure plummeted and I was full of 15 different drugs.)
Fast-forward to now. I’m a little over 6 months in, and the end-of-summer sunshine is pouring so heavily in the windows that I’ve got to put sunglasses on my kid for her morning bottle. “Swamp ass weather”, as my husband so endearingly calls it, is showing no signs of leaving us anytime soon in our current locale. I’ve been standing in the shadows since spring, watching the sun beam down until 9 pm, and shuddering like a vampire in my long dresses. It’s coming for me. It’s coming for my pale ass legs that disappear into the white walls of my living room. (Who am I kidding, the walls are off-white, probably 2 shades darker than me.)
So, the quest continues. I’ve slathered on the Jergen’s gradual tan lotion all summer, but this subtle color won’t cut it—subtle being the key word that haunts my dreams and existence on just about everything. I’ve got nothing short of 10 fake tans in my Amazon cart, some old favorites and some brand new. What’s gonna hold up against the little minion’s spit up of my creation? Stay tuned.
Have you found a holy grail, bebe-proof fake tan that rocks your world, or are you, too, still on the neverending search for greatness?
Thank you for coming to my Tab Talk on a 100% stupid issue that does not hold any weight whatsoever in the world at large.
I got a spray tan once and then my little immediately puked down my arm about two hours later. Let me tell you the streaks were not pretty. 🤪
Hahaha. IT IS SWAMP ASS WEATHER. I'm here for your journey with some faux tan 😘