Team Beauty at Marie Claire has unofficially declared me the authority on all things self-tanner. Which makes total sense, considering my skin is almost translucent. And while pale skin is beautiful, I'm Italian, so in a perfect world, I'd naturally live on the tanner side of the spectrum. On top of that, I avoid the sun like the plague. Partly because wrinkles, and mostly because I don't want to test my chances with skin cancer. (My mom has dealt with it many times, and my brother had it at 26.) So yes, I’m militant about sunscreen.
So while genetics didn't deal me out golden, bronzed skin, and I can most often be found with a giant sun hat under an umbrella come summer, I do know a thing or two about faking it. Every week, since I was 16, I indulge in my Thursday night routine: exfoliate, moisturize the dry spots, and lather myself in bronze goodness, courtesy of one of my favorite self-tanners. I may spend the rest of the night trying not to touch anything, but it's worth it when I wake up glowing and a few shades darker.
