Donald Trump's orange face might be funny, but this tanner historian says it masks something deeper
When Trump was elected in 2016, succeeding former President Barack Obama, I remember references like "orange is the new black". At the same time an allusion to the famous Netflix series and a bold commentary on race, color here functions as an important form of satire. And this satirical use of color persisted throughout Trump's presidency. His recent visit to the UK saw the orange balloon and orange-faced protesters continue in full force.
My major is the history of tanning, so I find this particular form of humor fascinating. It's surprising that Trump's skin tone, above all, provoked such a level of derision.
Do it to do it
Orange is a color with such comic value because it is impossible, not naive: it is a sign of artifice. Tan lovers talk about getting a healthy "glow", a "tanned" look and skin (implicitly and necessarily once white) "browning" in the sun. "Fake bake" would appear to be, and is marketed as, the safer alternative to real exposure to the sun's UV rays, which we know can cause cancer.
But the problem is that only this remains: false. Staining is a dye, sitting on the upper surface layer of the skin, not a natural alteration of the pigment embedded deeper within the cells. Unlike red lipstick, purple hair dye or blue eyeshadow - which are also clearly "unnatural" additions to human facial aesthetics and color changes - the orange tan (or overuse of bronzer) is widely considered unacceptable by popular culture. The natural progression of skin "phototypes" does not include orange as a color "value" on this light-dark spectrum.
Less of a subtle gilding than a fluorescent face plant, we find the color fun because it's an all-too-obvious applied coating that can't convince anyone of natural pigmentation. Orange isn't bronze, it's not brown, it's not black (and it never will be). It is ridiculous, therefore, because it is a sign of failure, an act of camouflage gone wrong. Put simply, orange is not "of value" to us because it is not as "valuable" as a skin color.
And let's remember why it exists in the first place. It is a normalized belief in white Western culture that dark skin is to be envied, that altering (however temporarily) its original color by darkening it various shades along the color line will make it more beautiful, healthier, sexier, younger . This is the case with both women, particularly young white women in the US and UK, as well as men, not least male bodybuilders.
It is not surprising, therefore, that Trump believes that altering his natural skin color will improve his appearance and, therefore, his sense of self. The belief in a "healthy tan" has existed since the early 20th century and continues to drive tourism even as it drives the tanning and fake tan industry.
Getting below the surface
I would say there is something very serious about Trump's orange face - something serious about the superficial. Scottish artist and writer David Batchelor argues that color has been feared and marginalized as trivial, as artifice, as "other" throughout the history of Western civilization. He defines this "chromophobia", describing the bias against color as operating in two ways:
"In the first, color is conceived as the property of a" foreign "body - usually the feminine, the oriental, the primitive, the infantile, the vulgar, the queer or the pathological. In the second, the color is relegated to the realm of the superficial, the integral, the essential or the cosmetic.In one, color is considered alien and therefore dangerous; in the other, it is perceived simply as a secondary quality of experience, and therefore unworthy of serious consideration. Color is dangerous, or it's trivial, or it's both. "
Like his comb (his thin hair that hints of lost youth and manhood) or his sour pout (lost composure under intense media scrutiny), Trump's orange skin is a target of ridicule - of a man obsessed with vanity. and marked by signs of failed masculinity. Yet here too there is danger, because they are implicitly signs of weak and worrying leadership, of a man out of control of his aspect of him and perhaps, by extension of his adversaries, of his country.
The reference to Trump as "Agent Orange" is particularly relevant. Used by the US military in the Vietnam War to destroy leaves, this chemical also contained the carcinogen, TCDD, which seriously harmed many locals and their future unborn children. For artists like Busta Rhymes, Trump is envisioned as a dangerous weapon or destructive force that threatens global peace.
Above all, there is a crucial irony that the orange-saturated skin that has become so characteristic of Trump's image is totally at odds with the blatant xenophobia and racism that saturate his words and deeds. Yet even here there are historical parallels: Hitler equally praised the "bronzed" sculpted bodies of the ancients and encouraged his soldiers to tan and exercise outdoors while simultaneously emitting the purity of the Aryan race.
I'm not saying Trump is a modern day Hitler (even if others have him). What I am discussing is that orange is a color not of comedy but of contention, even of provocation. Protesters wear orange paint like a war mask, mocking Trump's unstable temper and confused "values". Its strange, even toxic, coloring may seem trivial, but its meaning is deeper than the skin.
