Comfort hair, perfect tans and other lessons learned during a day of summer beauty.

As the summer months gloomily get their start, there’s not much hope of achieving that healthy, sun-kissed look any time soon. Luckily, Philly’s salons and spas are ready to help the sun-deprived reach a less pallid hue, not to mention employ other services that spruce up tired hair and bodies.

For my summer beauty fantasy, I started at the top. Stop one: American Mortals at Seventh and Walnut, a hip, friendly hair salon where you can shop for cute tote bags and sneakers while your 'do is drying. Sitting in for me in the chair was CP Art Director Jessica Weber. Stylist Debbie Rosenberg, a part-time instructor at the Redken Academy in New York, took chunks of Weber's light brown hair and highlighted them with copper and gold tones, wrapping them in foil. A dark brown color that Rosenberg describes as "Hershey's Special Dark," was applied to the rest of her head. Brown, for summer? Rosenberg said that while this time of year is usually buzzing with requests for blond locks, this year she's barely had to touch any golden hues. And that's no accident, Rosenberg said, adding that at a recent Redken event, salon owners from all over the country concurred that everyone was going brunette. The war and the faltering economy are to blame, she said, because blond hair is more expensive to maintain and brunette hair is considered more comforting. Comfort "is what's fashionable in food right now, in decor," and in hair color.

With the color and a cut, Weber's hair is now, to quote a dumb hair-dye commercial, multifaceted, showing off different highlights depending on how she styles her hair.

Now it was my turn, as I headed to The Klinic, an Old City spa that's been around for 12 years. Owner Meltem Birey (she also owns Old City boutique Flotsam & Jetsam) has done everything in her power to create a soothing environment, and as I sat down with massage therapist and manicurist/pedicurist Sasha Glass, I could tell Birey had succeeded.

Glass put my feet into a warm tub of water enhanced with some sort of herbal potion that instantly made my hesitant tootsies relax. Birey stopped in and dropped an "orange fizzer" into the mix, and it was like a yummy-smelling Alka-Seltzer treatment for the feet.

Next, Glass rubbed my feet with an exfoliating cream, and, after shaping my toenails, covered my feet with a grainy mixture of sea salts and herbs. Glass applied fire-engine red polish and my feet looked like a million bucks -- I marched out into the rain proudly wearing toe-baring sandals.

The final step in my summer beauty odyssey was a much bolder one. I visited Tabu Salon in Old City, where aesthetician Brenda Brown promised to give me a safe, natural-looking all-over (fake) tan. I was a bit nervous about this, for several reasons, including a deathly fear of turning orange and having to hide in my apartment until the tan faded.

Brown was very reassuring, though, so I laid down under a white sheet and prepared to be buffed, the first step toward a successful tan.

Brown started by dry brushing my body (it's just like it sounds -- a loofah-like brush is used on the arms, legs and back in a circular motion). She told me that along with exfoliating, the dry brushing can help with circulation, and even help eliminate cellulite if done regularly. That she told me this while dry brushing the backs of my legs, I'll choose to ignore.

Brown works on one body part at a time, with the rest still covered by the sheet, thank goodness. The dry brushing is followed by an exfoliating cream and a light moisturizer. I was so relaxed after all of this, I forgot my fear of turning orange. That is, until Brown got out the big old bottle of Sun instant tanner and a baggie of makeup sponges.

Limb by limb, Brown rubbed the tanner onto me, as I lay on my stomach. After my back was good and tanned, I was left alone to dry for 10 minutes before flipping over. The bed was cozy and the sound system was piping in "Clair de Lune" mixed with nature sounds. No sooner had I sleepily figured out where I had recently heard "Clair de Lune" (it was in Ocean's Eleven -- yeah, I'm a dork, but there's not much else to think about when you can't move or see anything but sheet), Brown returned and repeated the process on my front and my face. While she did this, she regaled me with tales of customers with bizarre tanning requests, like demanding that Brown intentionally miss spots to make the tan look more "natural."

A couple of hours after I left Tabu, my arms and legs were a rich brown color. The tan usually lasts about a week, mine faded a bit faster.

But at least for the next few rainy, cold days, I knew that underneath my jeans and coat, I had beach-ready toes and a healthy, tanned glow.