A few (okay, 10) extra pounds to lose? Check.
Pasty, pasty skin to darken? Check.
So I've started a new diet, which no, is not fun. But as far as tanning goes, we run into a problem. I'm fair skinned. No, scratch that. I'm not just fair skinned. I'm effing Danish. I don't tan well. I'm also neurotic, so the fear of wrinkles skin cancer keeps me from spending too much time in a tanning bed the sun.
Hence the need for a spray tan.
Now, I've done the Mystic Tan before, and it was a disaster. Weird smell, weird colors, odd blotches. When it comes to spray tanning, consider this -- you're obviously vain. You're risking turning yourself into an Oompa Loompa in order for the chance to look like a girl from The Hills, how could you not be? (PS - My teeth look crazy white now that my face is all glowy.) So just spring for the extra cash and get a professional to do the job. With a human wielding the tanning gun, you're going to come out looking far more natural than you could after a trip to the Tan-O-Matic.
So I've got my test tan going (it went well, I plan to get it re-done, in case you were wondering) and was feeling delighted with myself.
Then came the drive home.
See, here's the awkward part of spray tanning. You can do it in your swimming suit, or you can do it in your underpants, or you can do it naked. I opted for underpants, since I didn't want tan lines on my shoulders but also didn't want to show off my whole world to some stranger. This meant I had to bring a loose, strapless dress to wear on the way home to minimize smudging. I brought a dress that I thought might be able to do the job:
Think shorter and pink, and you've basically got the gist.
The lady who did my spray tan said the dress was perfect, but I'd have to leave the straps off. No problem, thought I. I'm just driving home, I can make it. It's probably going to stay up, but heck, even if I have a little wardrobe malfunction in my car, who will ever know?
You know. Aside from the camera cops.
So I drive home, mentally willing my dress to stay up. (With so much attention focused on my boobs, I remembered a fun story from girls' camp when I was fifteen -- Sister FakeName informed all us Mia Maids that you should always sleep with a bra on because it helps the ladies stay perky. Best thing I ever learned at camp.)
I managed to park my car without incident, and then as I put my key into the lock of my apartment door ... my dress fell down.
Fortunately, no one was in the hall.
Flashing incidents to date: 5.
Incidents where no one witnessed my shame: 1.