Carol Perkins: To Tan or Not to Tan

Having a beautiful tan has been a longtime quest, a simple ambition for some people, but one with occasional hilarious consequences our pale heroine, decidedly so when her search for tawney perfection lured her to Campbellsville, KY Still Edmonton's answer to Erma Bombeck quests on, a bit daunted, but still determined, she says "to wear a pair of white Bermuda shorts against tanned legsone time in my life." -CM

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To read her next previous story click on John Denver: The Memorial Service

By Carol Perkins

"TO TAN OR NOT TO TAN"

Genteel women in the 1800's and early 1900's valued pale skin, especially inAmerica. Being pale was proof of their class and bloodline; therefore, most womenavoided the sun.

My Grandmother Sullivan loved piddling around the farm, fishing in the pondbehind her house, picking blackberries, and raising gorgeous flowers. She was neveroutside without her bonnet and a long sleeve shirt. I never saw her or myGrandmother Reece with a sunburn or a suntan.

My mother's generation did not tan either. They, too, protected their skin andcovered themselves from the sun because their mothers did and their mothers did.


Tanning became the fashion in the 50s

By the 50's, this changed. Tanning became the fashion. Girls spread blanketsin their backyards or on car hoods and basked in the sun. We girls of the 60's weresun worshipers. The darker, the better. We mixed iodine and baby oil for our lotion,making us greasy slick, but golden brown. Not me, unfortunately, because I burned.

While they looked like Hawaiian tropic ads, I looked sickly.

One of worst burns when I was at EKU
One of my worst burns happened when I was young and dumb. At EasternKentucky University, my dorm rooftop was the lying-out spot, especially on theweekends. Because a tan was equated with beauty, girls did whatever they could tolook beautiful. Our role model was Annette Funicello from "Beach Blanket Bingo".Like my friends, I spread my towel on the tar roof and rubbed down with thismixture. A pleasant breeze swept across the roof so I dosed off, only to wake muchlater and realize I had been there for hours. I gathered my beach bag and slid to theshower to wash off the oil. Once back in my room, I was so sleepy I couldn't keepmy eyes opened. I crashed into my bed, covered up, and slept....for hours. I think Iwas headed for a coma.

When I woke, I was shaking all over with fever and chills. What washappening to me? All night I tried to take care of myself (most of the girls on my floor had gone home)with cold rags on my forehead, but the pain was not going awaywith a cold rag. My skin was on fire. Dying would have been a relief.

The next morning my fever broke and the bed was wet from sweat. My body,even my eyelids, ached. I dragged myself to the bathroom and what I saw in themirror alarmed me. I was a beet. Sun poisoning? A third degree burn? I shouldhave been in the hospital, but I was too sick to know and too sick to go.

For next few years, it was under the beach umbrellas for me

During the next few years, I avoided the sun as much as I could, preferring tosit under umbrellas at the beach and cover myself in the strongest lotions on themarket. I longed to have a deep tan, but refused to pay the price. Nothing lookedbetter than a pair of white Bermuda shorts against tanned legs. That was the look Iwanted.

By the late 70's, tanning beds became the rage. Wolfe beds popped up inbeauty salons, in the back of stores, and even in some homes. Girls were flocking tothese beds because the results were fast.

The first tanning bed experience I had was in a salon. The bed reminded me ofa casket. Pulling the "lid" down gave me thoughts of final moments at the funeralhome. The bulbs were hot; exceedingly hot. Even though an oscillating fan blew onme, the heat was suffocating. I couldn't wait for that ten minutes to end. Did I tan?

Very insignificantly.

After a few years on the market, warnings popped up on every news program."UV radiation from tanning beds, particularly UVB, may cause cancer by altering thestructure of the DNA. Excessive UV radiation will cause premature aging, includingwrinkles, and may have a detrimental effect on the immune system." Aging?Wrinkles? I didn't want either, so I cut short my tanning bed days and tried to keepmy daughter out of them by telling her they could burn her up inside and she mightnot be able to have children. Of course, I made that up and of course, she ignoredme.

My transition from the tanning bed to self tanners

From the tanning bed, I moved to self tanners. I have a drawer full of allbrands from cheap to expensive. Each has a lingering,putrid smell. Some women can rub that stuff on and look like a million dollars. My daughter-in-law is an expert.

I, on the other hand, look pathetic. My toes, knees, elbows, and heels look rusty. Mylegs streak; my arms spot and the color is more of an orange than a tan. Thankgoodness for exfoliators.

Just when I thought I was destined to whiteness, I learned of a new method oftanning. A mystic tan, which consisted of standing in a booth, alone, while jets shotdark liquid over the body. Thirty seconds on the front and thirty seconds on the back.

And yet a new miracle of tanning! In Campbellsville

A piece of cake! The nearest place for this type of tan was Campbellsville. Off Iwent with a couple of friends.

When my turn came, I placed the proper net over my hair and entered thebooth. I stood the way I was instructed to stand, held my arms the way I wasinstructed to do, and raised my chin to avoid white rings around my neck. However,I forgot one thing.

Just when I was in the correct position for the best results (back first), Ipushed the green button to begin. Then I panicked. "You idiot, you still have on yourglasses." I could see raccoon eyes in my future. Even though the spraying hadbegun and I wasn't supposed to move, I broke my stance and bent over to toss myglasses to the floor by the door. A mystic tanning mistake.

The tanned me I didn't see in the mirror

After the machine stopped, I stepped out of the booth and glanced in the mirrorto see a tanned me. What I saw were streaked underarms and stripped legs. The frontlooked good, but the back was a disaster. I had bent over and tanned the wall.

Am I going again? Probably. Even though I don't want skin cancer, wrinkles,or a speedy aging process, I do wish for a tan and this is the most painless and safestway for me.

I still want to wear a pair of white Bermuda shorts against tanned legsone time in my life.

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About the author: Carol (Sullivan) Perkins is a lifelong resident of Edmonton, KY, in Metcalfe County where she taught high school English at Metcalfe County High School until her recent retirement. She is a now a freelance writer. is married to Guy Perkins and they have two children: Carla Green (Mark) of Brentwood, TN and Jon Perkins (Beth) of Austin, TX and six grandchildren. Her latest book, Let's Talk About, is a collection of over 70 of her works, and she is presently working on the second book in this series. Carol's ties to Adair County go back to Breeding where her grandfather, Rufus Reece, and her grandmother Bettie Strange, began their married life and later moved to Metcalfe County. You may contact Carol at cperkins@scrtc.com or write at P.O. Box 134 Edmonton. If you would like a copy of her book, you can order through email. Watch for her next story on Sunday, April 12, 2009.

This story was posted on 2009-04-05 13:59:08

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