The Facekini: An Absurd (But Reliable) Way to Avoid Sun Damage
The reason I didn’t get sun damage this summer. (Photo: Larissa Mills)
I wore a Facekini. To the beach. To the mountains. To the pool. I was stared at. Laughed at. Run from. But dammit, my skin looks amazing. The Facekini, invented three years ago in China, was designed to protect the wearer from harmful UV rays as well as jellyfish stings and algae. Chinese women are known for covering up with protective gear. But here in the states, I found my Facekini to be anything but celebrated.
I first tested out my Facekini in Vero Beach, FL, a small but upscale beach town on the east coast of Florida where my parents now reside. We were getting ready to go to “the club.” When I added my Facekini to our beach bag my mother protested. “You cannot wear that to the club. They’ll kick us out. You just can’t.” This coming from a woman who is marshmallow-white living in the land of sunshine. She takes meticulous care of her skin from peels to white kabuki sunscreen and hats galore. She is no stranger to sun protection and taught me at a very early age to protect and nourish the skin. But even she has her limits.
Kids were confused, curious, and scared by my facekini. (Photo: Larissa Mills)
By the next day, I had gotten up the courage to finally put it on (my family was placing bets that I would not) and went for a swim at the pool. I’m pretty sure the children who were there that day are still having nightmares. The adults who were in the pool slowly got out while the kids just stared. One little guy hid in the bushes gawking and another refused his mother’s prompting to go in the pool as he gave me the side-eye. I felt ridiculous as well as feeling the need to explain myself to everyone. And I was hot. It was like having a balloon glued to my face. My own family stayed clear of me (my 11-year-old daughter was mortified) and seemed to revel in the negative reaction of the other pool goers. One man eventually did speak up since his child was relentlessly asking him what was wrong with the “blue woman” in the pool. Funny enough, he thought it was a great concept. Great protection. Great for those who might be sensitive to sunscreen. Great for post-op procedures. Excellent for those with pigmentation issues like Melasma. But will it catch on? So far I wasn’t seeing it.
The facekini will embarrass your friends and draw stares and nasty comments from others. (Photo: Larissa Mills)
My next Facekini outing was at my own beach in Beverly Farms, MA. A small, private beach where if you don’t actually know everyone you most likely recognize them from the local coffee shop or your daily train ride into the city. This was a toughie — I’m not going to lie. I actually felt sick to my stomach like the first day of middle school when you have to stand up and introduce yourself in front of the whole class. I sort of already had a reputation for being “weird” since instead of doing the usual mom beach routine (8 SPF, no hat, bake all day) I was more the 50 SPF, wear a hat the size of Alaska, and only stay for 2 hours mom. For years I had been made fun of because of the size of said hat, so a Facekini was going to be sure fodder for ridicule and endless jokes. The moment I put it on there were eye rolls, looks of disgust, and laughs. They remarked that I looked like a burn victim or a Mexican wrestler. The teens of the group appeared to be scared of me, which I thought was a tad bit dramatic. I overheard them saying, “that is soooo creepy,” “OMG I would never wear that,” and “that is just ridiculous.” But the more I heard, the more I wanted to wear it. I mean come on. It’s a mask! And what if I were a burn victim? Is this how I would be treated? Apparently protecting your skin to the extreme brings out the bully in the good old U.S.A. Perhaps they’d be kinder to me at my next stop: Sun Valley, Idaho.
Sun Valley is the land of beautiful and crazy-in-shape people. They pride themselves on their connection to the outdoors and athletic prowess. Tanned, lined, and weathered faces are par for the course. When you scale mountains, camp, and run miles over rugged terrain with the Sun Valley sun beating on you every day you’re bound to get a wrinkle or two and a killer tan. Being too done, too prissy, too protected would not be the Sun Valley mantra. But being laid back and all welcoming is. So how would they handle the Facekini? I wore it on a hike with my sister-in-law, who before I flew out, warned me that she wouldn’t stand next to me if I had it on (so much for acceptance). She had shown a picture of me with it on to her 3-year-old son who adjusted his voice to a growl and said, “That looks like a monster!” She taped it for me just so I could get the full affect. Unlike New England, the people of Sun Valley weren’t as forthcoming with their opinions, but they didn’t have to be: The stares and glares were the same. They were mixed with confusion, disgust, and pity.
I get it. The Facekini is alarming. It’s different. It’s weird. It’s new. But it does work. No new freckles on this face — something no high SPF sunscreen can replicate no matter what the claims. I’m not sure if the U.S. is ready for it, though. In the land where tans still signify luxury and California dreams, I think the Facekini may have to stay in China a while longer.
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