I have a few favourites, and a few more that I don’t necessarily regret buying but simultaneously wouldn’t recommend to friends.
I am still yet to find one that drapes a Harry Potter-like cloak over me and removes every tiny, minuscule remnant of fake tan from my pores, but I think that says more about me hoping for a miracle than about the quality of fake tan removers on the market. After all, we ask for good, immovable fake tan. It would be hypocritical of me to then ask for a product that removed it all the minute I decided I wanted it gone. (I’m asking for exactly that.)
So, when ModelCo introduced their $10 bar of soap that promised to “instantly” remove fake tan, I was naturally intrigued. The price was better than I’d seen in a tan remover product to date, and the idea that it was all in a bar of soap excited me. (These are the kinds of things you get excited about when you don’t have hobbies.)
Jessie tells Mia and Holly about the fake tan that has saved her life. Post continues after audio.
How it works
Ha. Well, I’m glad you asked. It’s a fake tan-removing bar of soap, so you use the bar of soap to remove your fake tan.
How I used it
For context’s sake, I threw on some fake tan on my arms for the experiment one night before bed (as inconsistent and awkward a look as you’d assume) and showered the next morning to shake off the excess.
The next day, I jumped back in the shower, tan remover bar in hand, and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. I shouldn’t have been, but because I’m a noob, I was surprised how gritty the bar itself was once I got scrubbing. Perhaps appearances are deceiving, and I’d naively assumed I’d have a happy time scrubbing as I would with cleansing soap.
You probably don’t lack as much foresight as I do, so this may not come as a surprise, but the bar itself was pretty abrasive on the skin after a few minutes of rubbing. In saying that, the fake tan was dying a quick death down the sink, so that was a plus, considering that’s why we’re all here.
I spent probably three to four minutes rubbing before I… gave up. (My weak arms and laughable pain threshold were getting tired of the rubbing, I’m embarrassed to admit.)