Pale Pride

For those who understand what it means to be pale, it's both empowering and discouraging. Both sides of my family are Scandinavian, which essentially means there's no hope of tanning. Having a fair complexion however, is increasingly growing in popularity: particularly in social media & photography. It's a feeble encouragement, because everyone who is stuck with being pale understands these things...

Cons of Being Pale:
1. Finding foundation is fairly simple (most likely because you are the lightest shade)
2. Pink cheeks are just a normal thing to deal with
3. Fake tanning just DOES NOT work or look normal
4. In summer you slightly blind people when you take off your beach coverup
5. When you don't wear makeup people think you're sickly
6. Playing hide and seek in the dark is never in your favor
7. When you catch a glimpse of a tan line you freak out 

Those examples are just a few things about the daily struggle of being pale. But on the other hand, there's a sense of power about having a fair complexion. My sister once called herself "a porcelain goddess." Now that is how to do it. Winter is OUR time to embrace our porcelain goddess-like appearance. Think about it; the abundance of tan beach babes are either forced to tediously keep up a fake tan all winter, or endlessly complain about how pasty they look. Now this is where being a porcelain goddess comes in handy... in summer or in winter.

Pros of Being Pale:
1. You don't need to spend money on a new foundation shade every winter
2. You can just sit and listen about others complaining how pale they are
3. Wearing black is your best ally
4. Fun fact: historically speaking, being pale meant having a substantial amount of money and position
5. Your excessive amount of sunscreen means your skin is healthier than those who skip it
6. You stand out in a crowd of tan people

Take pride your fair complexion... Live it. Love it. Own it. Embrace your inner porcelain goddess.

The Unforgettable Cannes, France

I had the pleasure this past September of visiting the unforgettable city of Cannes, France. My dad--who conveniently works for an international boat company--takes my sister and I with him occasionally on his overseas business trips. Luckily, it was my turn. I visited during the second week of the fall semester so I could escape the terrors of college for a brief while and recollect myself on the Riviera.

Our Hotel, the Radisson, absolutely astounded me. It's located directly on the ocean front a few blocks down from where the Cannes Film Festival takes place annually. Upon our arrival, we received two complimentary macaroons waiting for my dad and I in our room. That being said, we took those macaroons up to the rooftop; where there are loungers, tables and chairs, umbrellas, a bar, and a fountain to be enjoyed. It really was like nothing I've experienced before. Sipping a glass of rosé, munching on a macaroon, overlooking the serene crystal blue riviera, it was absolute luxury. 

Our second day in Cannes was the most memorable part of my trip. My dad and I dragged our jet lagged bodies out of bed in the morning and rented a 120CC vespa scooter for the day--it was even pink to match my helmet. We zipped in between cars in traffic and around cars on the highway... my dad might have been Mario Andretti in another life. We reached our first destination: Cap d'Antibes. Antibes is a more humble town compared to its neighbors-- Cannes and Nice. Filled with quaint cafes, numerous shops, and old military towers, Antibes had my heart. 

After a croque monsieur and an orangina for lunch--followed of course by a mandatory espresso--we left Antibes, drove through Cannes, and headed in the opposite direction to scale a few mountains on our scooter. Weaving up and around the roads placed directly on the side of the mountains, I was entransed by the views. I firmly believe William Wordsworth could not even paint a picture with his poetic words to describe the perfection and awestruck wonder of these views... I snapped quite a few pictures, but honestly it's an injustice compared to sight seen with your own eyes. Atop a mountain, overlooking the vast Riviera, yachts from the festival in Cannes, crystal clear water, and other mountains miles away with a subtle wind blowing, it effects your physical and mental state of being. Absolute silence occurs. A series of thoughts sprint through your mind--serenity, perfection, devastation of beauty, and the sobering fact that it all was real. I had no idea France had to offer a place like this. My senses were ensnared, and forever captured to the beauty of the Riviera. 

Every morning at the Radisson, my dad and I enjoyed a complementary breakfast: multiple types of croissants, baguettes, jams, butter, yogurts, granola, fruit, coffee, and juices... take your pick. There were at least 6 types of croissants baked fresh for your choosing; and that's JUST the croissants, let alone the dozens and dozens of other breakfast delicacies to dive into. Then for the biggest question we faced daily... where to eat? For lunch and dinner, whichever restaurant suited our fancy, we ate at. HUNDREDS of them, lined up among street after street, making it hard to decide where to stop. Pasta? Hamburgers? Crepes? Salad? Sandwich? Fish? Chicken? Thank God I speak un petit peu de francais (a little bit of French). After our meal had been eaten and thoroughly enjoyed, an espresso ensued, followed by dessert.

Within the next few days I realized that the French know how to live. They make time to enjoy and relax life and all it has to offer. I intend to take up this tradition with vigor, perhaps returning to my beloved Cannes one day in high hopes of perfecting french living.