Ten years ago in LA my friend suggested we have a spray tan.
Disaster. We emerged a radioactive shade of orange with
particularly concentrated levels of 'tan' on our hands and feet.
Never again, I swore, later that night whilst trying to hide my
hands when sipping cocktails at the Chateau Marmont.
However the lure of stepping into a booth milky white and
emerging just ten small minutes later a honey brown colour remains
undeniably tempting. It's time saving, better for your skin and can
happen at any old time of year, rain or shine.
But it was with orange flashbacks that I went to Harvey Nichols
to meet James Read, the tan master (who is entrusted by Rosie
Huntington Whiteley, Lara Stone and Rita Ora to bronze their
limbs). This week Read has set up The Studio, a smart new area on
the department store's 4th Floor, with beach style cabins and a
team rigorously trained in his magic tanning tricks.
With a spray-gun type machine in hand, Read layered mists of his
own product which gave an immediate golden glow. His own brand of
tan is thankfully less about how brown/orange you can be and more
about making the skin look natural and golden. I was impressed.
The spray tan has come along way since those LA days of being
shoved in a booth, told to hold your breath while computerized jets
haphazardly hosed you down with lurid liquid. And I'm relieved to
report that orange feet and palms are a thing of the past.