I am sitting here smugly sporting an August tan in March. The smug part is down to three factors. Firstly, I don’t smell of fake tan in the slightest. Secondly, I am streak-free. Thirdly, I haven’t damaged my skin one iota to achieve this shade. Nope, this tan is 100% out the bottle (well, technically a mist machine, but you know what I mean…).
I had to wilfully suspend disbelief that I could be a ‘3’ after six months of hibernation, and it took rather a lot of courage on my part to walk down a drizzly street on Saturday morning to Heidi Klein for a spray tan. I had a 30th dinner party that evening, things could have got ugly.
As it turns out, they didn’t. On entering the shop I found myself surrounded by beautiful holiday accessories and instantly felt uplifted. When the lovely assistant offered me a variety of scents to go with my tan (I chose coconut lime, delicious) I knew someone behind this operation had the smarts.
I shed my clothes and stepped into the Mystic Tan Booth. I know, it all sounds a little la la land. This was cemented when the voice in the booth politely, and electronically, told me where to put my feet had an American accent. Accent aside, she was really very helpful, and I was spritzed and dry within 5 minutes. On went my clothes and out went I. 8 hours later, and I was at my dinner party looking as if I’d returned from a fortnight in Mustique. I confessed the source of my deceptive hue but, had they not been friends who knew I’d been in Blighty all winter, I would have lied. As you should when you visit.