A ball of teenage angst, I was just 13 years old when I came to despise my snow-white skin. It was the beginning of July and all my female classmates were relishing the opportunity to attend school bare-legged. While they paraded across the grass with their tanned limbs exposed, I defiantly refused to remove my thick, black tights. Despite the sweltering heat, I was determined to conceal my shamefully fair skin for fear of being judged. Nobody wants to stand out at high school but when you’re a red-haired girl well on her way to being 5ft11 as I was, you really don’t have much choice. “But you’re an English rose!” exclaimed my mother as I demanded she bring home a bottle of fake tan. Her words were wasted on me and after a long, torturous battle, she eventually agreed to buy some gradual bronzing cream to ease my insecurities. For those of you not familiar with gradual tan, it takes effect hours after applying. I just wish somebody had really reinforced that to my 13 year old self who excitedly set about smothering herself in the stuff without even exfoliating first. Of course, you can probably imagine how this story ends. I was absolutely mortified when I woke up to find myself still white as a ghost but now complete with bright orange streaks smeared across my body. Needless to say my disease-ridden aesthetic provided much amusement to my classmates, attracting the unwanted attention I had desperately wished to avoid. Several showers and some serious scrubbing later, I had no choice but to embrace my porcelain skin, vowing never again to touch fake tan.
Unfortunately, this has left me vulnerable to pale-shaming. Strangers have yelled ‘Casper!’ in my direction and drunk girls in club toilets are always quick to remind me of how pale I am (“Oh my god, you are SO white!” squealed one girl in Ocean, disgusted). A middle-aged man even approached me to suggest I try some tanning lotion (thank you sir but that didn’t work out so well the first time).Naturally, my instinct is to laugh off such insults. At 20 years old, I have come to accept and even like my apparently abnormal complexion, so a few remarks from strangers don’t necessarily upset me. However, I am beginning to wonder whether I have been too forgiving of such ignorance. After all, some girls – or even boys – may not have found comfort in their own pale skin and these insults could significantly hurt them. They certainly hurt my teenage self.
Above all else, I simply don’t understand why people feel the need to comment upon the lightness of my skin. Do you really think I’m unaware of my own paleness? My peers who are similarly fair share my frustrations; “It’s insanely rude” declared one friend. “I wouldn’t dream of commenting on a stranger’s appearance – let alone their skin colour!”
Indeed, political correctness practically dominates today’s society as we are constantly instructed not to body-shame or slut-shame and yet pale-shaming is remarkably commonplace. The courtesies and basic respect with which we treat all shapes, sizes and cultures evidently does not extend to us paler creatures who are perceived as fair game. In general, I am reasonably relaxed about the whole thing; I will happily make jokes at my own expense and I always let friends take holiday photos with me for the sole purpose of enhancing their tan. Nevertheless, a line does need to be drawn because I would hate for some equally fair 13 year old to feel as insecure as I did. I certainly wouldn’t want them to experiment with fake-tan in the same disastrous and mortifying manner. So, if you are the kind of person to yell ‘Casper’ at porcelain-skinned strangers, maybe think twice about the damage you could cause. Trust me when I say they already know how pale they are – you don’t need to remind them.
Edited by Naomi Upton
Image sources:
http://www.wellandgood.com/good-looks/not-tanning-beauty-trend-avoid-the…