The Edinburgh festival is over for another year and so with it the 24 hour anxiety, constant low level depression and neurosis, which frankly is a relief especially as I wasn’t even performing this year. Instead we embark on one of my favourite months, September.
I love September not just because it signals the end of the Edinburgh festival, but also because…no actually that is why I like September… well that’s kind of ruined my point…lets face it September signals the end of our Summer, which frankly is quite depressing. Alright, lets not agree to a suicide pact just yet. Instead why don’t we take a fond look back on the last few months; the sunshine in July (can’t actually remember if we had any), the long days in June (at least 2 of those) and of course my tan. Yes, it really has been rather good. So much better than other years, no real strap marks or peeling skin just a really good, even tan. Now I don’t know about you, but that makes life seem a bit better, doesn’t it? I’m sorry did you just say you wanted to punch me in the face? Hmmm interesting…
Look, I know for ‘health’ reasons we’re not allowed to tan, or sun bathe, or get brown, or look brown or wear brown clothes. Ok maybe you can look brown. It’s just that if I’m outside in the sun, unless I cover myself from head to toe whatever skin is exposed tends to go a bit darker. So shoot me! (Stop there because I know some of you would like to.) This year I have suffered a record amount of abuse, for no other reason than I have managed to go a bit browner than the average Brit. At the beginning of the summer it started with people innocently saying, “Oh you’ve got such a lovely colour, you cow! I’m so jealous.” But very quickly turned to, “I wouldn’t want to sunbathe next to you, you absolute BITCH, I hate you and your stupid tan. I would love to repeatedly give you a dead arm whilst inflicting your smug face with a Chinese burn you absolute arse hole!” My Mum can be very direct. Even my girlfriend spent most of the summer in a mood about the colour of my skin, “Can you not stand next to me.” “Why?” “Your tan is annoying.” “My tan is annoying?” “Yes and when you stand next to me it’s even more annoying.” “How can my tan be annoying?” “It just is, you’re making me look white.” “You are white” “Well you’re making me look whiter than white” “Maybe you need to stop washing with non biological detergent and start using soap.” “Do you want me to punch you in the face?” “No.”.
What people don’t seem to understand is that I may have a tan in the summer but in the winter I look yellow, anaemic and generally unwell. I see my friends with their white skin in the winter and they look so annoyingly pink and healthy, like one of the Famous bloody Five. Whereas I have to suffer 9 months of every year listening to people say things like, “You look so tired are you not getting enough rest?” “Have you been ill?” “Are you anaemic?” “Look at those terrible dark circles!” “You should take vitamin B supplements.” “Have you thought about wearing make up?” “I am wearing make up” “Have you thought about wearing more make up?” SHUT UP WILL YOU! THIS IS JUST HOW I LOOKI!
I don’t know what the answer is, I just know that despite the abuse, I like my tan. However, I’m acutely aware that it’s beginning to fade and so with it my special powers to irritate the hell out of everyone I meet. Very soon I’m going to look yellow and dead and that’s not good. Maybe I should go down the route of fake tan. I’ve been to Oldham so I know it doesn’t even need to look natural or suit my skin tone. I saw one bloke who looked like he’d abandoned his fake tan and just got to work with a tin of Ronseal and a brush. You may laugh but you only need one coat and it doesn’t run. Fact. Hang on, I’m sure I’ve got some in the shed…Posted on 3rd September 2010