I don’t think a love for the tanline, or the sex appeal of the tanline needs an origin story, like “this is how I developed my weird perversion”, but it could probably have to do with being raised to French Canada where most of the moms of the kids I grew up with were leather skinned, orange skinned, strippers who would buy us cases of beer at 12 years old, and let us see their tits if we were lucky…and from shitty early generation fake tits that looked like the were going to explode off their emaciated crack whore bodies, all orange colored from early generation tanning machines, to laying out aggressively in the son on trips to Daytona Beach, to cover the nicotine stains, jaundice and scars from other ailments and abusive adventures….
Or maybe I just like the healthy, get out doors in clothing, now I’m inside after a great day, omg look at the tanlines I got, feelings of exclusive content, like we’re being invited in…but I doubt it’s that….