Electric Youth

Skirt: LOTUS, Shirt: Francesca's, Shoes: Off Broadway, Watch: Michael Kors

Yo... Yo... Yo! Hello. I hope everyone had a great weekend.

This is what I wore to dinner on Friday night. These pics were taken 5 minutes before we left... in my driveway. See the pile of red things over my shoulder in the second to last picture? Yup... gas cans... for a weed whacker... in my garage. Keepin' it classy, folks. .

Maybe it's because it was pitch black when these pictures were taken, or maybe I went a little heavy handed on the ol' bronzer, but these snapshots make it look as if my skin actually has some color to it. I assure you... it does not.

I am 100% void of all pigmentation. I am SO pale in real life that I almost look diseased. 10 years ago being this pale would have put me into tailspin of self-loathing. I didn't care if it was January. I didn't care if NO one else was tan except me, my ass was going to BE in that tanning bed. I HATED the way my skin looked at it's natural color. I was convinced that I looked "slimmer" with a tan... and that my face was more clear (even if it was dry, border-line orange, and well on it's way to having some SERIOUS crow's feet and mini lip wrinkles). I could not even imagine my face in all it's pure white glory. What if I got a big red zit?!?!?! On a white-ass face?!?!? OH THE HORROR!

"Must... tan... through... the... winter. Must... fight... Mother... Nature. Must... speed... up... the aging... process. Must... look... like... a total... fool... in... ALL... pictures."

Of all of the dumb things I have done in my life, putting my body into a cancer-causing, electric coffin that aged me faster than a speeding bullet definitely ranks as one of the more ridiculous. I am actually quite proud of myself for overcoming the fear of my actual skin tone. That shit had a hold on me for a while and I got straight-up nervous thinking of looking at myself without "a little color". Maybe it's because I am better with make-up now, or maybe I've matured and realize how stupid people look with tans... when it is SNOWING outside (unless you legitimately have traveled somewhere where the sun is actually shining), but whatever the reason, thank GOSH I gave that shit up. You should not have to plug in the sun. We can agree on that, right?

If I could meet my 18 year old self, I would ninja kick her repeatedly in the throat until she PROMISED never to lay in one of those things EVER again. And... if that didn't work... I'd show here all these sweet wrinkles around my eyes. I'd smile at her so she could get a REAL good look at 'em. That ought do it.