Saturday, 10 November 2012

Bronze "Express"?!

Only remembering I needed tan for Halloween the day before, and it being 10 minutes before the shops closed, I dashed to the nearest pharmacy on Henry Street and contemplated the limited choices. It was between a former love of mine, Tantastic, Sublime Bronze and Bronze Express. Reminiscing fondly of the days when I was young and recalling my mum using that tan before she switched to others, I bought the Bronze Express. It was also on offer for €15 as opposed to the normal €20.

Bronze Express is one of the earliest brands of fake tan to come out on the market years ago. It's not difficult to come by, and is most frequently shelved beside the higher-end tan products (Such as St. Tropez)

Here's where it gets ugly.


I've exfoliated, done all my hair removal- the rituals I've mentioned before in my Fake Tan post.

I put it on the night before Halloween.

Thankfully you're meant to look scary on Halloween.

Looking to spend an evening enjoying movies, doing girly things like paint your nails and put on tan, drinking a cup of tea (or glass of wine, if you're richer than a college kid) and lounging on your bed? Well with this tan you can expect the opposite. Embrace a distressing half an hour where the tan goes (and stains) everywhere; on the floor, on your bed, on your hands, in your drink (yes, really). All this fun can be found at a local pharmacy that endorses products of the lowest standards.

I'm an occasionally clumsy person, but I'm somewhat compulsively delicate with fake than. I know too well the results of the token "favourite-white-top-ever" being on the receiving end a of tan-tsunami. However, you may have just enrolled me into a paintballing session for the results I got. The tan was one hot mess of the leprosy look, falling all over my bedroom rather than on to the tan mitt. It's pure liquid, with an open-top bottle, no easy applicator to help you. No, no, Academie (the brainchild behind Bronze Express) assume you, as a consumer, are completely capable of freezing liquid's movement at will.

In addition to the mess and lengthy process of application, one would assume the positive payouts were something of note i.e. you wake up to realise you have become Adriana Lima. One would assume wrong. You wake up smelling like stale biscuits, with what can be described as a prelude to a tan!

Ha! You thought this was tan? Oh no, my friend, this a let's-mess-the-bedroom-and-keep-your-sorry-ass-pale product.

Curse you, "Acadmie", for offering false hope of a beautiful, Brazilian tan, and for leaving my bedroom in a state similar to a Cheese-puffs factory.

A big thumbs down from me.

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