Just a quick word on spray tanning: it is a bizarre experience.
I was used as a spray tan model last Thursday at a boutique salon in Beverly Hills. As I was going in for a test shoot for bikini shots with a local gym on Friday afternoon, I figured a spray tan would be the quickest (and least painful way) to remedy tan lines reminiscent of elementary school tye-dye projects gone awry.
So I went in for a free spray tan. This entailed stripping down to the buff and standing on a little carpet square, while a nice lady in her thirties literally sprayed my entire body with what looked like an industrial bug spray canister attached to an industrial vacuum. We didn't really speak; she simply uttered quick, short phrases like "face the wall" or "palm up" or "hold your breath", and then it was over. The two women on staff did take an interest in my yoga teaching, however, so I promised to pass along some information on the yoga studio, as well as raw recipes, as one of them was a vegetarian. A half hour after arriving, I walked out of the salon, smelling like the not-quite-right coconut smell sunless tanning produces.
Now, while spray-tanning, you are not supposed to exfoliate, so that the tan lasts longer. Did I exfoliate? No. Like a wholesome, rule-obeying tanee, I used mild body soap the next morning. Yet when I got out of the shower, I had bright white armpits and bits of spray-tan peeling off of my stomach, which now resembled a speckled robin's egg. Although Sally Hansen's "Spray-on Legs" product helped patch up that little disaster for the afternoon, I think the verdict still rings true: spray tans aren't for me.
Another add to the wishlist: tan-through swimsuit. Yes, they do manufacture these. And if you're working toward being a bikini model on the side to make some dough, it's either spray tanning, or this apparatus. Pass the bikini, please.
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