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Oped, Charlotte Mathieson, Published on 14/09/2024
» It's April 2000. I'm 14 years old, lying on a beach in the Bahamas, a bottle of SPF 20 at my side. I periodically check to see how my suntan is developing, watching with fascination as my pale white skin turns a deep, chestnut brown. Through the headphones of my Discman, Baz Luhrmann is telling the class of '99 to "trust me on the sunscreen". I nod along to the beat, oblivious to the irony. Luhrmann's caution is ahead of the curve.