Back in my youth, when I thought I knew everything about beauty, there was this unspoken rule: the tanner the skin, the better the look. We all wanted to look like beach gods and goddesses, even if the nearest beach was hundreds of miles away. So off to the solarium we went! The tanning bed was the revolution of the '90s: no sand in your swimsuit, no annoying seagulls, and definitely no sunbathers hogging the best spots. Perfect, right?
Back then, we didn’t know better.
Well, not quite. Back then, we didn’t know better. Today, I see things differently. While my teenage self imagined I was turning into a Greek god with each tanning session, reality had other plans: I was on track to becoming a leather handbag. Luckily, I didn’t overdo it. Otherwise, I’d now have the skin of a 300-year-old mummy—complete with the wrinkles to match. There’s this American joke about staying indoors on Thanksgiving if you have a wrinkly neck, lest someone mistakes you for a turkey. Honestly, if I’d indulged in just a few more tanning sessions back then, I’d probably be running for my life with cranberry sauce in hand.
Why did I do it? The ads made us believe a bronzed complexion was the ultimate sign of health and success. A golden tan was like the Rolex of skin. No one mentioned that the sun, whether natural or artificial, came with side effects. Those friendly UV rays that give you that sun-kissed glow also have a darker side: they break down collagen and fast-track wrinkle formation. But hey, who needs collagen when you can look like a well-worn leather sofa by age 25?
How horrible! -yack!
I still remember those tanning rooms: tiny cabins that looked like a cross between a spaceship and a sauna. The smell of burnt skin mixed with cheap disinfectant was unforgettable—a sensory delight, really. And the music? Always that weird chillout-lounge mix, trying to convince you that you were on a tropical island rather than in a stuffy plastic tube in a shopping mall basement.Then there were the “rules”: goggles on to protect your eyes. But let’s be honest, who cared about their eyes when a perfect tan was on the line? And those tiny hourglasses! You’d flip them over to time your session, always worrying that they’d forget about you in there and you’d come out looking like a charred marshmallow. Thankfully, I always managed to escape before I started to smell like smoke.
Dermatologists meltdown!
Nowadays, we (hopefully) know better. Dermatologists practically have a meltdown when they hear the word “solarium.” The risks are real: skin cancer, premature aging, and damage that even the fanciest moisturizers can’t fix. Yet for some, the tanning bed remains a ritual, almost as sacred as morning coffee. Why? Because it’s quick, and the promise of sunshine during a dreary winter is still tempting.
If you’re thinking about hitting the tanning bed for that golden glow, here’s my advice: think twice. Go for a walk, drink a fresh juice, or watch a beautiful video of real sunsets instead. And if you absolutely must be tan, try a self-tanner. They’re so advanced these days that no one will know the difference. Best of all? No wrinkles, and zero risk of being mistaken for Thanksgiving dinner.
In the end, don’t let artificial light fool you. It may promise the perfect glow, but reality catches up faster than you think. And trust me, the truth about tanning beds is far less radiant.
