The Lazy Girl's Guide To Getting Tan

On finding a low(er) maintenance faux glow routine.

It has to be said: I look better when I have a tan. I’d also wager a guess that most people, regardless of skin tone, assume the same about themselves. It’s evidence of leisurely vacations spent poolside with an inbox near zero or on the front of someone’s yacht, depending on your tax bracket. Not to mention, a little color helps conceal dull, sallow skin even if you’re consistently stuck indoors. And despite my current occupation as a professional beauty nerd and sunscreen devotee, it’s still hard to shake my previous sun worshipping. I grew up in the Midwest, where tanning beds were as ubiquitous as Starbucks, and I definitely did some damage from ages 16-18.

But now that self-tanner and bronzing products have received some much needed upgrades — namely less orange streaks and more golden goddess vibes — faking our way to a post-beach glow is relatively easy. Simply put, we all just look a little more healthy, rested, and alive with a bronzed face and bod, am I right?!

I recently reinforced this fact after I attended an invite-only event to get a professional spray tan with St. Tropez a few weeks ago, wherein you strip down to your skivvies while a lovely woman named Sophie maneuvers a spray gun loaded with pigment over your body. Approximately six minutes later, I stepped out from the plexiglass booth looking like a tasty buttered croissant — although I smelled decidedly less delicious. Easy!

For as gorgeous as I felt during the subsequent five days, before the last of my faux glow washed down the drain with current favorite California Naturals body wash, I’ve never mustered up the energy to commit to steady self-tanning routine at home. Sure, when a professional is spritzing you down (and even contouring your abs while she’s at it) and you have a few spare hours to walk around in flowy black clothing to air dry, the service is a dream — highly recommended. But as soon as it fades and the lure of the sun beckons from beyond my Brooklyn apartment windows, it’s hard to commit to such a labor intensive beauty treatment rather than just laying out on my fire escape for a couple of hours.

Then my brain catches up with my vanity and I remember how bad UV rays are for your skin (seriously, wear SPF every damn day if you don’t want to end up like a shriveled prune), and I turn to my makeup bag instead.