Dear White People,
I ask you this year after year, and now I am going to ask you again: please stop tanning.
It always gets bad right around this time; I know it’s the coldest, blah-est month of the year when I watch the MILF parade come into spinning in a contest to prove you can never be too thin, too rich, or too tan. The other day a woman walked by me at the gym and I had to do a double-take; her skin was the color of a Fourth of July bratwurst, fresh off the grill.
Ladies, you are not tan. You are Crayola.
With skin the color Gumby’s friend Pokey, you look so unnatural, so fantastically “sunkissed” against the harsh gray of winter, you resemble candied yams.
It’s odd actually, to see the fake tans. When I was in NYC, no one was tan. I couldn’t tell you where the tanning salons were in the city; it just wasn’t really done. Sure during January and February, every woman was snowy white, but it was lovely! And it was perfectly acceptable!
And I know you think it’s attractive. You look thinner! Your skin clears up! Yes…your skin clears up for now. When they remove a melanoma along with half your face, your skin will not be looking so clear. When you are thinking about Botox at age 26, it’s not because of your glowing complexion! And then you get all, “But February is so depressssinngggggg! I need my Vitamin D!!!!!”
Whine, whine, whine. I need my Vitamin D too! Actually, since my skin is naturally darker, I probably need it more than you do. But I’m not going to let you get away with being vain and risking your life and then citing a vitamin deficiency!
And sure, maybe I’m just jealous. With one black parent, I will never know what it is like to knowingly and willingly deep-fry myself in UV rays. I don’t understand what it’s like to feel oily, splotchy, and smelling of sweaty coconut. I’ll admit that I’m a bit curious to experience that, but hey — it’s those kinds of disadvantages that affirmative action is making up for.
I know how much you love to lift up your shirt and compare your stomach to mine. I used to love it too; it was one competition I could always win! But…unfortunately I can’t win anymore. I wear SPF and shun the sun and in the winter, my skin gets lighter than I ever knew possible. Sitting at a desk all day isn’t doing me any favors; I’m rivaling the cast of “Twilight” with my complexion…and you all are one bottle of oil away from BET.
But the fact is you aren’t black. You are orange. Overcook a white girl in fake sunlight and she turns orange.
Please make this the year you end this vile, deadly habit and let your pale skin shine.
Love you mean it,