By Rachel Braeuer
Photos by Vaikunthe Banerjee
With two weeks of decent weather behind us, we can expect to know the hem length and type of sandals someone wore based on the patchwork quilt of skin the sun will have left behind. For those taking classes or trapped in offices working 9-5, it can be hard to get a tan in. Many will opt for a trip to the tanning bed so they, too, can look like they have enough free time to spend days sprawled out in the sun, reading Noam Chomsky, playing the guitar and slacklining.
This choice shouldn’t be taken lightly, though. In the US, May is national melanoma awareness month. We should take a moment to pause and heed our neighbours to the south’s warnings, before the UV index reaches its annual highs. Skin cancer statistics get more dismal as time goes on, and unless something changes, it’s only going to get more grim.
One in every three cancers diagnosed is a form of skin cancer. Right now, skin cancers are the second most common cancer in young adults aged 15-34. Every year, worldwide, there are more diagnosed cases of skin cancer than breast, prostate, lung and colon cancers combined.
There are three different forms of skin cancer, affecting the three different types of skin cells: basal cell, squamous cell and malignant melanoma. Each is more dangerous than the last. Basal cell carcinoma affects the outer layer of skin cells. If caught early, it is the easiest to treat, often with just the removal of the affected area. Squamous cell carcinoma is more serious, affecting cells deeper in the epidermis (skin) with more potential to metastasize and spread. Malignant melanoma, as the name suggests, is the most dangerous with almost one-fifth of diagnosed cases resulting in death.
Basal cell carcinoma is the most common form of cancer, which fortunately translates to skin cancer having a much higher survival rate than other cancers, with 970 deaths per year as compared to lung cancer’s over 20,000. However, the sheer number of cases takes a huge toll on our healthcare system. Each melanoma case costs the Canadian healthcare system over $6,000 dollars, with all skin cancers costing an estimated $531,750,000, or over half a billion dollars.
Indoor tanning in particular becomes a suspect choice. Those who fake-and-bake before age 35 have an increased risk of developing malignant melanoma (the deadly one) by 75 per cent. Despite all of this, it can be hard to resist the urge to get a beautiful tan at any cost.
If you’re reading this and feeling like an idiot, don’t worry. I’m no better. About a month ago, I decided I’d try out tanning. I’ve always hated how blindingly pale I am. I figured instead of sitting on a beach for five-or-more hour stints with little to no sunscreen with the sole purpose of getting a burn that would turn into a tan, getting into a sun-coffin for a few minutes a couple of times a week was a relatively responsible choice. Plus it was included in my gym membership fee, and I hate waste.
If you’ve never gone before, my advice is this: don’t. It’s a waste of time, unless you’re wholly committed to toasting yourself, or you’re ok with very minimal results. A reason some give for continuing to tan despite medical evidence suggesting to stop right fucking now, is that it just makes them feel generally happier and better about themselves.
All it made me do was question my life choices, namely why an educated woman such as myself would willingly hang around naked in a cancer tube. The first time I went, the attendant convinced me to try out a sample of some sun enhancer, which is basically just moisturizer that makes you smell like a 12-year-old girl who discovered Calgon for the first time. It came in a little foil tube, like the shampoo samples that sometimes come with free newspapers.
When you get into the room where the melanoma tardis is located, you have three minutes to take your clothes off and put on whatever lotion you’ve brought before the UV lights come on. Forget the giant red balls, trying to squeeze greasy shit out of a little packet and evenly coat your body in it in three minutes and then build your tanning goggles (surprise! You have to thread the elastic through them yourself) should be a segment on Wipeout.
Once I actually got into the booth, which looks a lot like a torture chamber, I discovered that a fan blows air up at you to keep you cool while you literally bake yourself. If you’ve never had a fan blowing air up between your naked legs after an intense cardio session, be glad. There is nothing to do in a tanning booth except be alone with your thoughts (well, that or develop cataracts from staring into the lights).
For me, it went something like this: “Jesus Christ, this fan is ridiculous! I hope the person before me didn’t have some weird foot fungus, particulates of which are now blowing on my crotch. Can you get Athlete’s Foot on not-your-feet? What if the grate busted and I fell into the fan! Does the fan have an automatic shut off? Do I really want to be the girl who got skin cancer and had her feet cut off in a freak tanning-booth accident? Jesus it’s hot in here, thank god for that fan. UV lights make nipples look weird — OH FUCK, has that mole always been on my shoulder?”
“Well at least you got a decent tan out of it,” you may be thinking at this point, but that’s the real kicker: you couldn’t even tell. I mentioned at the office that I had gone tanning. One coworker took a look at my blindingly white legs and asked “Are you sure?”. That about sums it up. I noticed some difference on my face where the goggles went, but largely I looked about the same. Frustrated, I rummaged through my extensive crap-cupboard under the bathroom sink and found three different sunless tanning lotions. After a week of using those, a different coworker remarked on how tanned I looked.
Save your skin, time, and money, and go buy some cheap sunless tanner if you must. Better yet, just deal with the skin you’re in. You’re not going to have it for very long if you can’t anyway.
