My First Time: How One Editor Lost Her Spray Tan Virginity

I’ll never forget my first time. Awkward, uncomfortable, exciting—it felt as if my whole life had been leading up to this point. Afterwards, I emerged as a newer, worldlier version of my previous self. How innocent, how naïve I had been! Suddenly, I felt so much more experienced, more comprehending of the world and all of its intricacies. By the way, I’m talking about my first spray tan.

Because I grew up the perpetually gloomy city of Seattle, being tan was of the utmost importance—mainly because it was so unachievable by natural means. My friends and I would bake in tanning beds (sigh) and eagerly emerge to see if we had achieved the fabled tan line we saw so frequently in our favourite reality show, Laguna Beach. When I came to Los Angeles for college, however, my desire for bronze goddess-like skin fell to the wayside, as I started to involve myself with scholarly activities (like learning how to spend hours in the library without actually doing anything). Plus, the sad truth is that driving around in Los Angeles takes so much time that you slowly develop a base tan just from sitting in traffic during rush hour.

When I got an invitation to receive a spray tan from Sophie Evans, St. Tropez Skin Finishing Expert, I almost passed. But then I remembered that St. Tropez’s Bronzing Mousse ($32) was the first self-tanning product I ever used that I actually liked (no smell, even colour … basically my saviour during many a Seattle winter), and I thought to myself, “Why not strip in front of a stranger and get sprayed down?” I confirmed the appointment.

Keep reading for my unfiltered account of what happened next.