How To Get A Spray Tan

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Photo: Katie Friedman

Oh, summer... Just thinking about the stretch of endless sunny days and ocean swims ahead of us gives me a childlike rush of excitement. But ever since I grew out of being that child, there's also been a bit of dread that comes with bathing suit season. I can go to the gym to get my body ready, but there's nothing I can do to keep from blinding people on the beach with my oh-so-pale skin—at least, that's what I always thought.

Related: Get Glowing: 12 of Our Favorite Self Tanners

I am a believer in doing everything you can to feel comfortable in your own skin—and for me, that cliché is to be taken literally. My skin is white, milky, and some have even said sexy (see, this is me trying to own being pale). But as much as it's nice to look good in the moonlight, it's not that easy being the pasty girl in the sunlight. When I was in middle school and laying out became a thing, I didn't want to accept my fate. In rebellion against the whiteness, I joined my bronzed friends sprawled out on their beach towels without a drop of sunblock on. I am sure you can figure out how this story ends: with a burn so painful and embarrassing, and a realization that I was doomed to be either white or lobster red.

Years later, on my first trip to the Hamptons after moving to New York, my brother's then-girlfriend (blessed with beautiful olive skin), gave me a look that registered somewhere between disgusted and confused when I came out to the pool. "Why don't you do something about your skin?" she asked. As if my pale girl complex wasn't bad enough. But even though she blatantly pointed out that I could do something about it, I still never considered faking n' baking. I thought I would feel guilty if I did it. It's that keep-it-natural attitude I brought with me from Northern California, or more so, keep it looking natural. If I didn't think spray tans turned out so obviously fake, I would have been game.

Since then, I have become a beauty editor and seen spray tans and self-tanners that don't make people look streaky and orange. So I finally went for it. I am now back to my pale self, but that taste of the tan life has me wanting more—even with a few bumps (i.e blotches) on the road. Read on pale girls: See what I learned on my journey to the dark side and how I'm going to make it better next time—yes, there will be a next time.

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The Preparation

Before my SunFX spray tan at the Oasis Day Spa in Manhattan, I asked their director of skincare, Christie Lavigne, for some first-time tanner tips. The day of the service I followed her directions and shaved as I normally do, as well as exfoliated my body and my face with a scrub so the tan would absorb evenly. I was iffy about letting them spray my face in fear of it turning the dreaded orange, but I decided to go for it. I mean, what's worse: an orange face or a pale face with an orange body? After I showered, I didn't use any lotions or perfume as instructed, and wore dark, loose clothing. I did cheat by putting on deodorant. Sorry, I had to spend the whole day in a very snug office situation beforehand.

The Spray

When I arrived at the spa it was calming and lovely. Then an Oompa Loompa vision popped into my head and suddenly I wished I was just getting a massage. My heart pulsed as the receptionist led me to the locker room and gave me a bathrobe and a pair of slippers. But what about the disposable spray tan undies I was told I would get? "Will the technician give them to me?" I asked in a panic. Somehow those paper panties were a matter of life or death. "I don't know, I've never gotten a spray tan," she said. ME NEITHER! Okay, deep breaths. If it turned out bad it would just be seven to 10 days. Seven to 10 days! That seemed like an eternity.

Related: Elle's Annual Swimsuit Guide

The technician came and brought me into the room with the spray machine, and I proceeded to tell her nervously that this was my first time and I didn't want anything too drastic. I made her repeat the directions twice. Take off your clothes, put on the panties (I got them!), and rub lotion on your hands and in-between your toes and around your toenails. It is supposed to be where you don't want to get tan. And as for those panties I was so worried about, next time I'll go without or bring my own. The thong part was such a strange shape that when I put on my actual bathing suit, it didn't cover my (fake) tan lines.

The spray box felt like one of those airport scanners where you lift your hands above your head, only I was naked with a little (and very tan) blonde woman spraying a cold mist all over my body (at least it wasn't a security pat down). It all took about five minutes, then she blow dried me off with a vacuum cleaner-esque contraption.

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The Initial Terror

Both Lavigne and the technician told me that what was on my skin now was not the tan: It was just bronzer so they could see where they were spraying. After you waited the recommended few hours to let the tan set in (the longer you wait the tanner you get), it will wash off in the shower. Note: Always book your spray tan in the evening or when you can go straight home after. But even with their warning, when I went back to the locker room and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror I panicked. I was brown, not tan—brown. On the subway home I felt eyes on me—they knew, I was an impostor. I deserved my tan gone wrong.

Though I felt sticky all over, I went to bed without washing my face as I was told. When I woke up in the morning I immediately took a selfie: It was worse than the night before! Still brown, but now blotchy, like someone had thrown a pile of dirt in my face. So into the shower I went. I used two exfoliating wipes on my face and washed it three times. When I toweled off it was gone, and I was very tan from head to toe (so much for my subtle glow. I guess that's what happens when you sleep with it on.) It looked even and not Oompa Loompa at all, except for my feet: They had that orange streakiness I was so scared of. But whatever, I was tan! Next time, I'll make sure they do not spray my feet and cover them with lotion.

The Big Debut

After my initial dread washed away down the shower drain, I got dressed in a crisp white outfit (what else do you do when you're THIS tan?) and a pair of mules that covered my orange feet. I'll admit, I'm that girl who checks herself out in the reflections of windows on the street. On the way to the subway I was doing it triple time, a little shocked but amazed at what I saw.

On the train I looked up from my book and there was a girl I know only vaguely, but well enough that it would be rude to not say hi. Of course. I felt self-conscious about looking so unlike me. "Hey! Good to see you. You look so tan!" she exclaimed. I immediately spilled my "It's fake" secret, to which she replied that it looked so natural. Score! This proceeded to happen twice more over the course of the day, and by the evening I was riding high on the compliments.

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The Maintenance

Normally I moisturize my body with coconut oil in the morning after I shower, but this week I followed Lavigne's instructions and used lotion (no oils allowed) in the morning and at night with the hopes of prolonging my tan. I did slack off with the upkeep a little in the end. That's probably why it didn't last as long as it could have.

The Fade-Away

I was getting used to being bronzed. Against all rationality, by day three, I was thinking that it would stay and I would just be a tan girl forever more. But in reality and five days in, when I saw my friends over the weekend, no one said a thing. Not one "Oh, you look so tan" at dinner. Granted they would've noticed if I was in a bathing suit, but at night, I was the same pale girl I always had been. And in seven days, it was gone.

The Take-Away

Well, you can see the results for yourself. My colleagues were unanimously pro-tan, while my boyfriend and my mom preferred me with my natural skin color. They have to say that, right? Though I don't think I'll be hitting up the tanning booth on the regular, before my next beach trip, it's now a must. It made me look and feel ready for summer (and a little skinnier, too).

Ironically (or maybe just poor planning on my part), a few days later I was on vacation in Rio de Janeiro, pale as the ghost of my pre-tan past. As I looked around at the most gorgeously bronzed people I've ever seen, I was content and happy. I am used to being the pale girl on the beach and would never let it ruin my experience. But if I still had my tan, I would have felt less self-conscious for sticking out and more comfortable running around in a bathing suit. It's taken me years to embrace my paleness and I don't want to be a traitor to my natural self, but I felt good being tan. That's all that really matters, right?

Megan Cahn Beauty Editor Megan Cahn covers all things beauty for ELLE.com.

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