My office is one floor above a swanky car dealership. Infiniti, to be exact. The showroom is glossy and stylish, with perfect lighting to accent the lines and curves of the automobiles. I walk passed the large windows of the showroom every day and realized how well the lighting plays to marketing the cars: its just dim enough to barely see the cars, yet not bright enough to show much detail, which makes you want to go inside and get a closer look. And then the salesmen approach.
The salesmen are all extremely well-groomed. Each one is dressed in what looks to be an expensive suit, perfectly polished shoes, slick hair and manicured nails. And through the windows, into the dim room, they all look impressively active and tan.
Until they all walk outside for a smoke break.
In the unforgiving light of day, each one of these neatly groomed men appears to be the colour of rust. I'm not really sure if it's spray tan, tanning bed, or tan from a bottle, but all of them could double for the orange in a Tropicana commercial.
The thing is, I don't think these guys ever see themselves in normal daylight. They check their looks in the mirrors at home, and in the men's room at work, and possibly their reflections in the mirrored sunglasses of their co-workers. But if they actually saw what colour they are in normal daylight, they might lay off the tanning just a bit.
Unless of course this is the look they are actually going for. If so, then they look fabulous.