Chinese beachgoers have found an interesting way to combat the
sun, one that goes beyond even full wetsuits and sun hats and even
gloves. They’re opting for ski-style face masks.
“I’m afraid of getting dark,” said the mask-wearer, Yao Wenhua,
58, upon emerging from the seaweed-choked waters of this seaside
city in China’s eastern Shandong Province. Eager to show why she
sacrificed fashion for function, Ms. Yao, a retired bus driver,
peeled the nylon over her forehead to reveal a pale, unwrinkled
face.
“A woman should always have fair skin,” she said proudly.
“Otherwise people will think you’re a peasant.”
The masks, a relatively new product made of stretchy fabric
commonly used in bathing suits, elicited a range of reactions from
beachgoers.
“That is way over the top,” said Sun Li, 43, a gynecologist from
Henan Province, when asked about the face masks. But Ms. Sun
herself sat under an umbrella wearing a sun hat, sunglasses, a
polka-dot surgical mask, a long-sleeve shirt and lace gloves. A
shirt was draped over her legs for good measure.
Nearby, Li Benye lay on newspaper, shaded by twin parasols.
Despite her commitment to paleness, she found the masks
mystifying.
“They’re foreigners, right?” she asked. “Russians, most
likely.”
While fair skin is prized across Asia, the women were, in fact,
Chinese. The masks not only made them impervious to ultraviolet
rays but also self-consciousness.
“Does it look like I care what people think?” bellowed Su
Ailing, 57, clad in a red mask, blue goggles and a wetsuit. “The
tourists dress skimpy, but we locals know how to protect our
skin.”
“I just had to have one,” said Liu Jia, 32, the whites of her
eyes gleaming through the holes of a pink mask, which matched the
polka-dot sarong tied around her shoulders. Finding the item, she
said, had proved arduous, with many store owners refusing to admit
they had masks in stock. “I had to beg and plead,” she said.
The sudden scarcity, it turns out, may not have been a simple
case of demand outrunning supply. After the photographs caught the
attention of the nation, the local government ordered businesses to
stop selling them, according to several shop owners, who said they
were told the ban was due to concerns over “quality control.”
One seller, who declined to be identified for fear of angering
the authorities, kept her supply of masks hidden under the counter.
Only after repeated requests and vows of secrecy did she agree to
part with one for 20 renminbi, about $3. “I don’t understand why
the government is doing this,” she said, glancing nervously at the
front door. “People just don’t want to get tan.”
So what explains the skittishness of so many proprietors? “The
only reason why people think they shouldn’t be selling masks,” he
replied, “is probably because they’re afraid thugs might use them
for robbing banks.”
