Well, paint me brown and call me spud

I have truly become accustomed to my surroundings so it would seem. I am no longer reomotely surprised or disappointed by the weather here (last summer was a shock I tell ya) and have learned to expect to wear "trousers" and carry a jumper all year round. But that's not all. I have flipped, joined the darkside and embraced the world of the fake tan.

The last time I used fake tan I was about twelve years old and had already turned my hair a horrifying shade of orange with sun-in. (Don't tell me you don't remember sun in. Every pre-teen girl was walking around with brassy orange hair that year pretending to be a California blond...) Apparently orange hair was not enough for me that year, I needed orange skin to match so I bought myself a bottle of fake tan and smeared copious amounts of it all over my pre-teen self. I, of course, didn't know to wash my hands after applying and my hands and feet turned an even brighter shade of pumpkin orange than the rest of my body which more closely resembled a bengal tiger with uneven stripes. Never again I told myself. At a time when I thought Bic perfume (pronounced Beec in a french accent and shaped like a Bic lighter) and strawberry lipgloss were the height of sophistication, even I knew that the fake tan was a disaster.

Either fake tan has come a long way or I've become a lot better at exfoliating and applying various creams and lotions... cuz I'm in love. I found this moisturizer with just a bit of fake tan in it and I'm using it to top up my real tan (and yes, I do have a real tan. It might not be hot here but the sun still shines from time to time. ;) ) I'm a brown goddess... Oh joy for small pleasures. Just like fiji it is, only colder and rainy and expensive.