Diary of a Spray Tan Virgin

I go through phases with false tan, months of using my beloved Xen-Tan gradual facial tanner, or a Garnier gradual tan or even a quick whizz with Sally Hansen all over for an impromtu night out but then I can spend the following 6 weeks with no tan at all. Pale and interesting. The one thing I hadn't tried though was a spray tan.

Having read Mags' account of her bronze goddess experience, I knew I had to give it a shot. Herein lies my experience: 

Wednesday

• Begin prep by body buffing & skipping the oil.

Thursday

• Repeat body buffing. Call Mags for a bit of encouragement. 

Friday

• While stuck behind a crash on the M50 on the way to my appointment, realise my pits are still fuzzy. Panic. 
• Pull up to a garage in Blackrock, bloster to the counter and exclaim 'I need razors, red bull and cash back, quick as you can!'. Don't think twice about the poor attendant as I bloster off again. 
• Arrive at Carter Beauty over 20 minutes late, I apologise profusely when met by Claire, a calming, friendly face who offers me a seat and a drink. I must look awful. 
• On Claire's instruction, I strip to knicks & face the wall. Make the fatal error of glimpsing myself in the full length mirror on the opposite wall. Die a little. 
• Quick chat to Claire as she explains the colour choices (Light, Medium, Dark)(opt for medium) and the Iron Man poses I'll be pulling to be tanned. 
• Tan is a cool mist, not cold at all. Claire doesn't blink once, is professional, friendly and courteous at all times. That really helps. 
• After drying off with the little blow pipe, I pay the lady and dash back to the car avoiding the downpour. 
• I spend all evening avoiding rain and water like a nervous Gizmo. 
• I wash my hair with rubber gloves and endure wet willies from the eldest because he's been asked to put in my Avon Argan Oil hair treatment. Won't be doing that again.
• I go to my leaba in long sleeved & long legged pjs as recommended. 

Saturday

• Get up at 7.30am because of torturous Sleep in Rollers. I'm black. Literally. 

7.30 am pre wash tootsies. 

• I get washed in warm soapy water as recommended on my Tips sheet from the Salon. 
• All of the colour seems to be washing off. 

Post wash tootsies really aren't much better. Change shoe choice for the evening so. 

There's definitely colour there but its a little patchy

• Meet with the Sis for our day out, her first comment is that I smell like biscuits, which is better than the youngest telling me I smelled like the Wezz night club the night before. Sigh. 
• Get a DM from the lovely Marissa Carter to see how my tan is, now that's great customer service. Explain that it's ok but my feet are bad so she offers to send a pair of scrubby gloves to help. No need for that but it was a lovely gesture. 

Sunday

• Wake in the Gibson and scrub myself in the (best) shower (ever) with my muji cloth for a little exfoliation and follow up with moisturiser all over. 
• There's definitely a hint of tan on my face and chest, just not as bronzed as I expected to be for a full spray tan. 
• I get home after a days shopping to realise my new Zara jumper has been ruined by tanned sweat pits, despite using deodorant. Boo Urns :(
• Decide that the spray tan way of life just isn't the one for me. 

My poor geansaí oráiste 

Conclusion: 

Well today is Wednesday and my tan has worn off naturally, I have been moisturising regularly and exfoliating every second day. I can't say a bad word against the salon as their service was efficient & courteous and their follow up was really appreciated. The spray tan itself only cost me €15 but for the palava I put myself through (and an unwitting garage attendant through) I don't think it's something I'll be doing again. It'll be home jobs for me from now on, sure it's only ever my forearms, décolletage and kisser that people are subjected to anyway. 

Have you had a spray tan before? I'd love to know how you got on...