The Whitest Legs You Know

I am currently caught in the same, endless pre-convention debate that I always have: to self-tan, or not to self-tan.

I’ve tagged this post “bloodsuckers” because after being in a deadline cave for a year, my legs are as white as a vampire’s. (Though I can’t really blame the cave. Even when I’m not working on a book, I avoid the sun. Because, redhead.) But that always brings me to the conundrum I face whenever a conference approaches.

I buy a new dress or two.
Dress shows off legs.
Legs are as pale as a whale’s belly.

Self-tanning might cut down the glare, because it’s not like I would slather it on.
Self-tanning might make me orange and blotchy, even if I don’t slather it on and follow all the directions and use the palest tint (as known by experience).
Self-tanning might be worse than blinding-white legs.

And then, of course, there is the ultimate danger — that I will step out into the Kansas City sun, and the glaring reflection from my pale, pale legs will instantly sear the retinas of everyone around me. Then the glare of light will raise the climate’s average temperature by several degrees, melting the ice caps, and sending the world into a catastrophic apocalyptic cycle of mega-hurricanes and The Day After Tomorrow-like deep-freeze super storms.

This isn’t about vanity. This is SCIENCE!

And a totally appropriate post for Earth Day.