I saw horrifyingly burned, leathery skin everywhere I looked, me in my SPF 45 and spray-on tanned legs. I wanted to be the Skin Cancer Fairy and spray titanium dioxide on the worst cases, but I figured I might end up in Davy Jones' Locker if I tried it.
(Jessica Simpson: Princess of the Bad Faux Tan)
My father and siblings always got these gorgeous tans. Me, I got my shiksa mother's rosy pin- and-white skin. On family vacations my father would be baking on a chaise by the pool and when I asked if I looked burned, would shade his eyes with his hand, look over at me, and say, "You look fine. You can stay out another hour." Meanwhile, it never quite penetrated his skull that sunburns take time to develop, and that I was inevitably headed that night for a vinegar bath, a miserable sleep on scratchy cotton sheets, and skin the shade of Contadina tomato paste.
Teens, if there are any of you out there in PeaceBang land, I'm talking especially to you: SPF! SPF! Reapply after swimming or sweating!
I myself have developed a love of protective eye creams, and am particularly fond right now of Kiehl's eye gel with SPF 30. I swear my crow's feet have improved in the past year.