My Spray Tan Experience
Yes, black women do get spray tans.
In the modelling industry you get to learn some instant quick fixes to ensure you look like a prototype for the perfect female form. I have always secretly prided myself on the fact that I work very hard to keep things in check and I had no need for such wizardry. However due to a busy schedule toward the run up to my latest show, I sadly let a few things slack and I had to resort to ‘cheating’ my way to perfection.
Many people outside the modeling world are surprised to hear that models of all races do get spray tans. Spray tans give you an instant sun kissed glow, as well as hiding a multitude of sins. I myself had never tried one but due to my recent self-neglect I was left with no choice.
Being a part-time lingerie and swimsuit catwalk model, I need to ensure that things look toned and tight as you never know if you are the model that gets landed with the knickers that resembles a cheese cutter.
The previous night I rang countless salons. “Have you had black clients before?” I would ask. The majority said “No, but we could do it”. No Way, Not experimenting on me! I eventually came across a salon based in East London who said they catered for black clients. They sounded very professional and I was sold on their flashy website. The following evening on the way to the salon I was on the mobile to my friend and I happened to mentioned I was on my way to get a spray tan. “But, your black!” she reminded me.
As I entered the salon it was sharp, clean, bright and pristine with designer ‘potions’ on the shelves. I was greeted by a smartly dressed pretty receptionist, which I instantly thought was a fantastic advert for the business. I on the other hand resembled a member of the local girl gang dressed in my hoodie and trainers. “I’m your 7pm” I said to her. “ The spray tan” she said with a beaming smile. ‘ooh they do teeth’ I thought as I glimpsed her magnificent pearly whites. I was introduced to Maria my spray tan expert. I was taken to a room and was instructed to take of all my clothes and jewellery.
Maria handed me a shower cap, a paper triangle that I eventually worked out was to hide my delicate area and some sticky foot soles. When I did as I was told Maria returned with a smile and led me to a booth. She told me she would do two coats and start with my back. “Its going to be cold” she warned just as she blasted the cold liquid onto my skin. I let out a yelp as she quickly moved the spray gun up and down my body. Maria then instructed me to turn around to face her, my naked breasts just as shy to greet her. I tried to convince myself that the friendly chit-chat I was having with this stranger while I was butt naked was normal. Maria got me to pose in unsightly positions to get an even coverage and then we had to repeat the whole thing again for the second coat.
“How’s that then?” Maria asked once the ordeal was over. I looked down at myself and I was glowing. I looked like an airbrushed version of myself. Maria told me I needed to dry. Out of the corner of the room she pulled out this giant wind machine, (the kind Beyonce would have been proud off). When she switched it on the cold air could have knocked me out! I had to ensure that every orifice was dry, imagine the positions!
Once dry Maria advised me to not wash for twelve hours, and not to use any scrubs. The colour would continue to develop over the next few days and the more I moisturised the better my skin would appear. I noticed I had a slight metallic odour but I had a beautiful complexion.
On the day of the catwalk show as I arrived to makeup I had compliments. I sat in the chair and the makeup artist asked me what shade of foundation I usually used. “NC50” I announced proudly. She gave me a funny look and so did her assistant. That is when it dawned on me. ‘Oh s@*t!’ I changed my complexion, no foundation to match my new tone. Does Mac do St Tropez?
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