The Broons

(This post has nothing to do with Maw Broon. Or Paw Broon. Or Hen Broon. Or any of the others. Including the Bairn).

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I hate to say it but I appear to be totally addicted to Geordie Shore!

Maybe it’s because I grew up not too far from Newcastle (ok, Edinburgh is quite far from Newcastle…) so I feel an affinity?

But despite a love for Tweedy, PJ, paint balling (joke. I’d never go paint balling… Too scared of getting PJ-ed, obviously) and hair backcombing, the thing I don’t get (no, not the accent, I totally understand it. And they subtitle the incomprehensible parts on MTV anyway) is the tan. I can get on board with false eyelashes, lots of eyeliner and painted nails, but I’ve never been a tan fan. I prefer the pale and interesting look, even if I’m the only one who finds it interesting.

And despite having a pale olive skin tone, I love a bit of Factor 50 on holiday. But even with the Factor 50 and sheltering in the shade, I still burn every year. What’s with that?! Maybe it’s because of the distinct lack of sunshine growing up in Scotland?

Last year, I was kept awake in a haunted house (not that any ghosts were actually spotted… but that didn’t matter. I spent the whole holiday ter-rif-ied ) trying not to scratch the sunburn. Or go to the toilet. Or open my eyes. Incase. I. Saw. The. Ghost.

Not this year. This year, I’m packing a hat, a stack of maxi’s and this little beauty: 

 £21.95 from Amazon

No sun burn for me. And hopefully no ghosts either, but I’m not sure a parasol will help if there are.

Now, let’s hope it turns up in time for Monday. Or else.