Uma, the friendly ghost
Gone are the days when people looked at me in wonder in the middle of the summer. Long gone is the time when my skin tone actually changed after mid July. My tan is something of the past, just like getting carded at the door of a club, like locking yourself up when you discover a pimple, like longing for your very own telephone line. I am now Casper Uma, the friendly ghost.

Except for the couple of days at the beach in the beginning of July, i haven't sunbathed at all this year. Now the September weather is here, and Madrid is on alert for a little heavy rain. Hmmm. This wouldn't be such a drama if my wedding dress wasn't the exact tone of my face right now. I'm going to look like an 18th Century zombie at my wedding, boys and girls, isn't that something.

Mum, as usual, told me not to worry about this 'minor matter'. She said: "I'll treat you to the latest cosmetic mania, the sunless spray". So she wants me to walk naked into some sort of cabin, where they will spray me with autobronzing lotion until my entire body looks even.

I might feel like a car being repainted.