Mission 010: Legs akimbo

If you're a skin health professional or my mother, you should stop reading this now. Especially if you are my mother.
OK, Mum, I know you're still reading, but don't worry, what I'm about to divulge is not rude or anything. It's just not healthy. I know this, and so you don't need to tell me. So please, not a word. Not even a tiny, teeny little email. I know.
Living in England has encouraged me to adopt some terribly unhealthy practices when it comes to the sun. Last weekend I lay out in the sun at a festival, between 11 and 1 WITHOUT SUNBLOCK. And I got burnt. Normally it's rare for me to get very burnt, unless I'm somewhere like Greece, Italy, Oman, Barbados, Australia or New Zealand. In all these places I've been sunburnt at some time, usually because my sunscreen has been sweated off/swum off/ wiped off. But in England I don't usually apply sunscreen, because... well, because I'm in England, of course, stoopid!
Anyway, stoopid me got completely toasted on the back of my neck and my shoulders. They are now itchy and peeling. Nice. My arms went brown and so did my feet. They are not peeling and they look good, even if my skin is 10 years older blah blah de blah. But the parts of my legs that were exposed to the sun – that is to say, the bits from my knees to my ankles – they didn't do anything at all. They gained no colour, not even a subtle drop of vanilla essence.
When I was small I remember looking at my mother's legs with disbelief. 'Mum, your legs are sooo white! With stubble! Yuck! MY legs are NEVER going to be that white!' Then I would run off to look at my horse books and practise learning to ride – in my head.
I don't recall my mother ever saying something back. Perhaps she said, 'We'll wait and see, shall we?' And now she has been waiting for this moment for oh, around 25 years. The moment when I will finally admit, 'My legs are white - no, practically blue – and I can't make them go brown!'
It's been several years now since I put sunscreen on my legs. (Apart from in Barbados after they unexpectedly got burnt.) Normally, their bluish-white sheen reflects as much sun as a 50+ sunscreen, and it's effective all day long. Sometimes, I'll put on fake tan to fool my legs into thinking that they are eminently tannable, but it appears that even with fake tan,they are not. My legs shed the fake tan within a day and my legs remain stoically pure in their antarctic glory.
I can no longer deny the fact that I have my mother's skin on my legs. Combined with my father's solid rugby-player calves, this is sobering on even a good day. So considering that I have a bit of a makeover theme going on with my latest missions, I'm going to keep running with it, if you'll excuse the leggy pun. My latest mission is to tan my legs - a real tan that will remain for at least 2 weeks. See, I told you it wasn't healthy. But nor are white legs very sexy, especially when they are as sturdy and heavily muscled as mine. I want sexy, tanned legs. Or as close to them as I can get. I know I can count on the Buckwell to back me up on this one.
Photo coming soon.

Where mission was conceived: In the shower with razor in hand
Idea-fuelling beverage: Water from the shower head
Likelihood of success: The chances are slim, but the reward would be sweet
Mission deadline: 15 September