‘Tanmaxxing’ is Proof That Gen Z is Getting Burnt By Viral Beauty Trends

An increasingly familiar scene is playing out on TikTok: a 20-something girl slathers her body in tan-accelerating oil, then lies out in peak sun. Next, the camera zooms in on her walnut-coloured tan and the stark outline of her bikini straps. What follows are remarks about the UV Index. “As soon as that UV Index starts hitting six and up, this is where I’m at,” says one TikToker, reclining on her sun lounger, a tub of Carroten in shot. “I’m roasting, and I love it; I love every minute of it. I have my little book with me, I’ve got my tanning gel, I’ve got my water, my phone’s on do not disturb. Life is good, man.” While another boasts, “A little burn goes a long way.” Welcome to Gen Z’s disturbing new world of ‘tanmaxxing’.

As the name suggests, the viral trend is all about maximising your deepest, darkest tan. It encourages you to use the UV Index, which measures the intensity of the sun’s rays, to find times when the risk of burning is highest. Some devotees are taking the trend even further by turning to Melanotan, an unlicensed synthetic peptide that mimics the hormone that stimulates melanin production. Marketed as a shortcut to a deeper tan with less sun exposure, it carries significant health risks and has been linked to the darkening of existing moles, the appearance of new moles and freckles, and other changes in skin pigmentation.

There’s an outcry from doctors and dermatologists, who call the trend “extremely dangerous”. The premise of tanmaxxing is, after all, to shun SPF in favour of deliberately exposing the skin to UV rays at their most powerful. “A tan is essentially your skin responding to injury,” says Dr Ahmed El Muntasar, a GP and aesthetics doctor. “When your skin is exposed to ultraviolet light, it produces more melanin (the pigment that gives skin its colour) in an attempt to protect the DNA within skin cells from further damage.”

Dr Brendan Khong, a medical and aesthetic doctor, says the long-term effects are deeply problematic. “Every deliberate tanning session, whether it’s ‘creating a base tan’ or a ‘filter-ready glow’, is banking DNA damage in skin cells,” he explains. “That damage doesn’t repair itself – it accumulates.”

It will, at best, manifest as premature ageing—wrinkles, pigmentation, loss of elasticity—and, at worst, cause skin cancer. Gen Z already knows that. Yet they’re tanmaxxing anyway. These are the same girls who raided Sephora for Drunk Elephant’s retinol and vitamin C serums, and whose slavish following of TikTok ‘skinfluencers’ turned the likes of Hyram Yarbro into a superstar. So what’s changed?

What’s driving the tanmaxxing trend?

There’s a fair amount to unpack here. Let’s start with how, in recent years, tan lines have gone from naff to sexy in popular culture. Singer Addison Rae proved the point by appearing in Perfect magazine under the headline “Addison Rae is Full-Hot” with the pale outline of her bikini etched onto nearly-naked, bronzed skin. Meanwhile, over on Instagram, the cool girls are making a case for sunburn blush, a technique where reddish-coloured blush is swept over the cheeks and bridge of the nose to look like you’ve spent too long in the sun.

It also leans into the controversial ‘looksmaxxing’ conversation, which endorses extreme measures for extreme results to maximise physical attractiveness, says Chelsea Mtada, a trends analyst, beauty consultant and founder of I.T Girl Intelligence.

Others believe that tanmaxxing is an act of rebellion, in much the same way that smoking is back in fashion and giving the booming wellness industry the middle finger. Dr Khong isn’t so sure. He believes the motivation for tanmaxxing runs much deeper. “Gen Z absolutely knows the skin cancer statistics—they have grown up with SPF campaigns and dermatologist content on their feeds,” he says. “But knowing a risk intellectually and feeling it emotionally are two different things, especially when the visible reward—tanned, sun-kissed, ‘snatched’ skin—is immediate and the consequences are decades away.”

Gen Z’s mindset post Covid may also play a part. “Gen Z came of age during a period defined by uncertainty and cancelled futures,” Dr Khong notes. “That has fed a broader cultural pull towards instant gratification—not just in tanning, but in how this generation approaches health generally. It’s less a conscious act of defiance and more that long-term consequences feel abstract compared to how a tan looks in a photo today.” This reflects the findings of the Canadian Dermatology Association into the disconnect between tanning behaviours and rising skin cancer rates among Gen Z. Research found that nearly 39% intentionally tanned during the previous year, 45% say it makes them feel more confident, and 37% say they look better in photos.

Much of its appeal also comes down to how a tan is perceived as the ultimate summer fantasy. “The Gen Z audience was never loyal,” says Mtada. "From clean girl to skinification, this was an audience that was always going to follow the lead of the algorithm. In 2026, bronzed bodies on Love Island and ‘Euro summer’ are the aspirational mood board.” During a cost-of-living crisis, a tan says “I can afford to go on holiday.” It’s also associated with looking slimmer, healthier and more attractive—“beauty standards that social media reinforces,” Dr Muntasar adds.

Much of this messaging comes from ‘tanfluencers’, who discuss the necessary steps to get a deep tan in much the same way people talk about their skincare routines. “Platforms like TikTok can normalise behaviour very quickly,” Dr Muntasar says. “When someone sees hundreds of videos promoting tanning as part of a beauty routine, the risks can start to feel distant or less important, particularly because skin cancer often develops years later, rather than immediately after sun exposure. Once something is labelled as ‘self-care’, people naturally become less cautious about it.”

And, last, but by no means least, there’s the psychology of a tan. For many people, a tan and a smattering of sunburn are associated with positive memories. Robyn, a 23-year-old social media manager, says: “I associate a tan with summer, with holidays, with feeling ‘glowy’—all things that make me feel happy and beautiful. I think tan lines look quite sexy, and the marketing around them as an accessory has definitely made an impression on me. Tanning as an adult also feels like a reclamation of my brown skin, which I used to hate seeing darken in the sun, afraid it would make me stand out more than I already did among my white friends.”

She goes on to say, “I do worry about my skin and have a lot of anxiety about it drying out or getting damaged while I tan. I always make sure my face and neck are slathered in a high-factor sunscreen, but I’m more careless with the rest of my body.”

Is there such thing as a 'healthy tan'?

The safe sun guidelines remain true: “Seek shade during peak UV hours; wear protective clothing, sunglasses and wide-brimmed hats where practical and avoid the temptation to use sunbeds,” says Dr Muntasar. But as an aesthetic, a tan needn’t be demonised—false tan can create beautifully sunkissed limbs, just without the damage.

And while the UV Index is a useful guide, some experts now say that you don't need to wear SPF if the UV index is 3 or under, unless you have a family history of melanoma, lots of moles or you’re using retinol. “Most international guidance recommends sun protection when the UV Index reaches 3 or above because that’s the point at which UV radiation becomes strong enough to cause skin damage with prolonged exposure,” Dr Muntasar says. “If you’re briefly walking from your house to your car on a winter morning with a UV Index of 1 or 2, the risk is obviously very different from lying in the midday sun during summer. Personally, I wear SPF every morning because it’s a simple habit that removes the guesswork.”

Tanmaxxing is the other extreme end of the spectrum. It’s also undoubtedly harmful, especially given that a 2025 survey by the American Academy of Dermatology found that half of Gen Z respondents had already got sunburnt, and most said they often forget to wear sunscreen.

There’s also an argument that suncare brands need to rethink their messaging. “Their communication has been explicit about the face and the neck, where selfies are the dominant way Gen Z consumers perceive themselves,” says Mtada. “That's where protection is guarded. But where brands haven't paid enough attention is protecting the body against the sun.”

I nursed my mum through three episodes of stage 4 skin cancer. I know first-hand how gruelling the treatment is: surgery, where large chunks of your flesh are sliced away, and immunotherapy drugs that can cause dangerously high fevers, possible organ damage and the top layer of your skin to painfully peel away. That is, if you’re lucky enough to live near an NHS hospital that offers the treatment. If not, prepare to fork out over £4K privately per infusion. I also know that treatment doesn’t always work. Surely no fleeting TikTok trend or hot girl summer is worth that.