The tan line is back—and this time it isn’t the aftermath of a too-long afternoon nap—it’s intentional. Once dismissed, then desired, later condemned, now in demand, the visible contrast in skin tone caused by sun exposure has come full circle, tantalizing across TikTok’s For You page, Instagram dumps, beauty campaigns, and more.
Starting with Coco Chanel on the Riviera to Gen-Z’s fascination with tattooed methods, tan lines have a rich cultural history that has been shaped by class dynamics and evolving beauty standards throughout time. But before we talk about 2025, where did the trend begin?
During the early 20th century, the Industrial Revolution pushed working-class jobs into factories and warehouses with little exposure to sunlight, leaving pale skin as a byproduct of labor. In reaction, spending time outside became a luxury. Suddenly, a tan became a sign of privilege—creating the cultural pivot point in the 1920s that brought tan lines into fashion. “Coco Chanel often gets credit, thanks to her famous Riviera sunburn,” says Einav Rabinovitch-Fox, a historian at Case Western Reserve University. “But the shift had already begun with changing working conditions, Hollywood’s move from New York to sunny California, and a growing appetite for aspirational outdoor lifestyles.”
Their desirability, however, fluctuated in the years following. During times of strife like the Great Depression, WWII, and even until the 1950s, tan lines were airbrushed away or hidden, as beauty was meant to look effortless and not the focal point of life. “You weren’t supposed to show the process during these eras,” Rabinovitch-Fox explains. “It was like seeing the man behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz.” Preliminary versions of faux tan even existed in the form of tea bags.
As California cool took center stage in the ’60s and ’70s, the tan became synonymous with youth, freedom, and sex appeal. Think Slim Aarons’ iconic poolside photography: outside, carefree, and tanned to perfection. “In the 1960s and ’70s, tan lines resulting from skimpy bikinis or crocheted bra tops were sexually suggestive,” says art and fashion historian Elizabeth L. Block. Advertising leaned into that allure, but not always appropriately. “Unfortunately, the Coppertone baby ads from that time have had a lasting effect,” Block notes. The brand’s logo, a cartoon dog tugging down the swimsuit bottom of a little girl to reveal her tan line, was widely accepted then, but reads as deeply unsettling in hindsight today. Still, the cultural obsession with bronzed skin persisted.