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EVERYTHING THEY TOUCH TURNS TO (FAKE) GOLD

By Sam Richards ⋅ December 10, 2007 ⋅  Print this post ⋅ Post a comment

I enjoy walking through town; there’s nothing like ambling down Bold Street to the sound of the ever-present old accordion player and the thoroughly amusing sight of people pulling matrix-esque moves in an attempt to dodge pigeons flying full pelt at them. However, these pleasant flanés are often spoiled by something or other, be it the slow-walkers that take up the whole pavement, the shriek of some non-vocabular utterance or, more commonly, by the sight of Liverpool’s new orange generation.

Now don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about an authentic holiday tan or dare I say it, even some sparing use of a high street toner, but these people look like they are attempting to bring the Oompa Loompa look into fashion. This ghastly complexion, combined with the adornment of sparkly or equally reflective clothing gives the impression that a wayward cloud of Agent Orange has found its way onto the streets. Such is the retina-burning power that this ‘condition’ radiates to the innocent public, suitably shaded eyewear is advisable for any outdoor stroll to reduce the risk of permanent damage. If astronauts were able to view Liverpool from space, I’m sure that it would have an orange tinge to it; such is the force of the ‘tan’. God knows where these products are available to buy, probably on the black market alongside a range of plutonium and other radioactive paraphernalia, where warnings about being handled with industrial gloves and radiation costumes have long been removed.

More to the point, I don’t know who could find this look attractive, yet it’s a craze that seems to be catching on. Thankfully, I rarely see many of these luminous girls on nights out (and let’s be fair, it’s hard to miss them); which although relieving, brings up a nightmarish vision of a whole congregation of them lighting up the corners of an otherwise darkly lit bar. Or maybe they just all go to the Razz…