Brown Men Do Tan.
Click to ENLARGE & Admire.
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Prior to getting hopeless hooked on activity trackers, mainly Garmin, in June a year ago, I never wore anything on my wrist on a permanent basis. I never ran with a watch.
But, not so now. And this Summer I have had my Garmin Fenix 5 on my wrist thick-and-thin even when we were in Arizona. So, the tan lines are pretty obvious when I take off the Fenix 5 to dry it after I take a shower or go swimming.
My tan lines (and I also have some on my shoulders from my topless activities involving a backpack) amuse Teischan. She says: “teenage girls would kill to have that tan”.
I have always known that I tan.
My adoptive mother was obsessed as to the exact shade of my skin color. She hated it when I turned dark from the sun.
My mother, even by over normal coffee au lait standards, was dark and she did NOT like it. She wore thick, WHITE pancake makeup to make herself look ‘white’. Here is an example.
Well, luckily for I she never put makeup on me, though when I was little, per British style (and she was an anglophile), she had me in dresses.
This was also before SPF-40 (or any SPF) sun-block was in fashion. Otherwise she would have had me permanently covered in it. I don’t wear sun-block. I do not need it. I do NOT burn. The only time I was forced to wear it, for a couple of days, was in Hawaii. The sun did burn my back. Not badly, but just enough.
Anywho … Even when I was in my 30s, my mother never let go off her concern as to my skin color. The VERY FIRST words out of her mouth, each and every time we met, wherever it was in the world, would be either: “Oh! You have got darker” or “Good. You have got lighter“. I kid you not. Never, “good to see you” or “how are you”. It was always, without ever a fail: “Oh! You have got darker” or “Good. You have got lighter”
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