"You're looking well." No, I'm not. I'm looking a bit tanned, that's all. I've been outdoors more than usual, and the weather's been good, and I've caught the sun. Blame Blackpool. It wasn't deliberate, I didn't intend to end up this way, it just happened. I'm not looking well, I'm just lightly charred.
"You're looking good." No, I'm not. You're basing that assumption on a slight change in skin colour, which ought to have nothing whatsoever to do with my external desirability. You're just jealous you're not this brown yourself. You've been stuck in the office while I've been on leave, and my colour reminds you of our inequality. Plus you go that awkward shade of red, whereas my body tends to go more olive than beetroot. Lucky me.
"You're looking healthy." No, I'm not. I've been absorbing ultraviolet and oxidising my melanin. I've been burning off cells and micro-wrinkling. I've been ageing prematurely, increasing my risk of a nasty skin condition and reducing my life expectancy. It's only society that considers the brown look healthy, whereas medical science would suggest otherwise.
"You're looking well." No, I'm not. I'm looking exactly the same, but darker. If I'd thought more carefully I could have prevented this - maybe worn a hat, maybe worn something with longer sleeves, maybe rubbed in a gallon of suncream, maybe not gone out in the heat of the afternoon at all. But it didn't look especially sunny when I set out, and I didn't want to look a wally, so I left myself exposed.
"You're looking brown." No, I'm not. Only parts of me are looking brown - the parts you can see. The rest of me's still the same pasty white as ever. My arms change colour two-thirds of the way up. My legs are just as pale as ever, because I don't believe in shorts. There's a bleached ring of skin around my left wrist where my watch always sits. My neck and chest are in sharp contrast. Uncovered, I look bloody stupid.
"You're looking tanned." Yes, I am. But please don't be fooled into thinking that this tan suddenly makes me a better person, or healthier, or happier. Your sudden interest in my appearance is only skin deep. You're only enquiring about what I did at the weekend because I'm brown. I'm only interesting to you because I'm the right side of burnt.
"You're looking well." No, I'm not. Quite the opposite, actually. Hopefully I'll be looking normal again soon.
