Ban the Tan.

So the Government have decided that it might be a good idea to outlaw the use of sunbeds for under 18 year olds, or perhaps prohibit their use altogether. Well about flippin’ time. There are many reasons why I would try anything to restrain anyone from so much as setting foot in a tanning booth, and skin cancer is only one of them.

Firstly, the “you’ve been tangoed” phrase has not been coined as simply a reference to the sickly-sweet, tooth-rotting, stomach-churning fizzy pop. Any A to Z list celeb who has undergone any form of fake tan looks, quite frankly, orange. The colour one’s skin turns when being blasted by toxic rays or smothered in brown paint is about as far from natural-looking bronze as can be.

A particularly tantastic acquaintance of mine has a rather interesting attitude to the phenomenon of the golden complexion. “Sun beds might give you cancer, but you’re gonna die of something, so why not die looking like you’ve just spent a fortnight in the Caribbean?” Well, I doubt she’ll be thinking the same when she’s a 60 year old crinkly facing skin grafts to cure her melanomas and possessing a skin tone a hush puppy would be proud of.

Some may say that everyone is aware of the potential risks of sunbeds, so people should be able and free to use them responsibly. Now, seriously, are the people of this earth able to do ANYTHING responsibly? Facts and figures would beg to differ. Drink responsibly? I don’t think so. Eat responsibly? Definitely not. And don’t even get me started on smoking. So why on earth would people be able to soak up noxious rays responsibly? They wouldn’t.

And another thing. Doesn’t being sun-kissed all year round, come rain or partial shine, take the whole point out of tanning? I’ve always thought it was a way of showing off your bank balance. Beautifully brown equals beautifully minted and living a life scattered with long weekends hopping from one tropical island to another. On a yacht. With Donatella et al. The concept of being ever-brown takes the fun and challenge out of sun bathing.

Oh, and did I mention it can kill you? How can teenage girls, body-obsessed and economically-challenged not want to leap into a tanning booth when they are being advertised on Oxford Street by a rather sullen looking man holding an enormous neon-coloured placard offering five minutes for £5. Stupidly cheap considering it could cost them thousands in the long run when they’ve been diagnosed with cancer.

Of course sunbeds should be banned. I’m utterly perplexed as to how they have been allowed to continue their dastardly deed for so long. Once upon a time, being tanned was considered a mark of poverty because those who basked in the rays of Helios were the plebs, not the prosperous who would remain milky white and cancer free. Ok, so they were also rather obese. But that aside, pale can be pleasing to the eye, just look at the likes of Ms Kidman, Blanchett and Knightley.

I’m the first person to rejoice as soon as the sun comes out to play, but we all need to learn to bathe in its beams sensibly and be pale and proud the rest of the time. Burning these malevolent booths wouldn’t be a bad start. Now, where’s that holiday brochure?