An opinion| by KYLIE HORNBECK

When I was younger, my grandmother implanted into my mind the idea that darker skin was better and more beneficial to my being.  My pale skin would easily burn numerous times throughout the summer.  Several times I suffered pretty severe burns, but when my grandmother saw me, she would say, ‘Oh, Kylie, you look so healthy!’Â  I look back now and can say that yes, grandmother, I was outside getting plenty of vitamin D, but my frying skin was certainly not healthy.

Over the course of this summer, I spent a lot of time playing tennis outside and fortunately did grow noticeably tanner.  My grandmother would have been proud’¦of some parts.

My idea that darker, sun soaked skin is ‘better’ has particularly changed this past year.  It has morphed now into the belief not that one shade of skin is preferable to another, but rather that one even skin tone is admirable.

I believe my stomach saw the sun, at most, twice this summer.  If I were to make an appearance at the pool, I would truly be making an appearance.  I would turn heads, as if walking down’¦no, off a runway.

For this reason, I avoid pools and wearing bathing suits.  I look the same in a swimming suit as I do in a tank top and shorts.  In a swimming suit, though, I am a goddess in white: a white razorback top, a pair of white shorts, one right white low-cut sock and one left white ankle sock. (Please note: varying sock heights are the result of a brace worn during play ever since last summer’s tripping incident, not innate weirdness.)

I make a strange spectacle, a multicolored creature.  Really, I’m like a bad bucket of chicken.  Some of my parts weren’t left in the deep fryer long enough.

At school I am luckily able to conceal my varying skin tones, except for that despised line on my left ankle, where my snow-white lamb of a lower leg meets my golden calf.

My dad suggested a spray tan, but I may as well face the reality that I have a sock line above my left ankle that is six inches higher than the right.  Artificial tanning has never appealed to me.

I suppose every person has his or her own unique shade (or shades, in my case).  Natural is the way to go, even if it means having odd tan lines.  I guess I’ll have to forget about my permanent white outfit, socks and all, and learn to accept my multicoloredness.  I just have to live with the fact that maybe I came from a bad bucket.