As the weather grows warmer, we prepare to bare our shoulders, flashes of thigh, napes of necks and the lily-white skin turning pink at high noon.

Over the last few weeks, the associated summer tan has been in evidence in parks, gardens and festival grounds, on beaches, campsites and roof terraces. It's proof of our love for a deep tan.

Tanning has always gone in and out of fashion. Whether it be deemed declassé because the workers who typically toiled outdoors were tanned, so the aristocracy kept their skin as pale as possible. When workers moved into factories, tans became associated with leisure and the upper classes embraced them. We are now living in a cultural moment in which the absolute majority of us work indoors - denied the sun, denied the outdoors, perhaps a tan - however fake - gives us a much-needed flavour of summer and a life outdoors.

Over the last decade, our commitment to tanning - whether the sun's out or not - has taken on epic proportions. It's suggested the market for self-tanning products in has grown five-fold since the late 1990s and includes professional spray tans and all manner of fake tans. Popular brands crowd the shelves offering the spectre of summer in mousses, gels, sprays and oils.

Many people have also taken the more controversial path of lying, goggles on, beneath the ultraviolet strip bulbs of sunbeds. Last year the International Agency for Research on Cancer reviewed the way it categorised sunbeds, moving from the judgment that they were ‘probably carcinogenic to humans,' to conclude that they definitely are. They are now classed in the same highest-risk category of carcinogens as cigarettes and asbestos.

In fact, our pursuit of the perfect tan has become so dogged that in the last few years there have been reports of people injecting themselves in the stomach with an unlicensed tanning drug. Curiously, we still associate tanned skin with good health, given the incidence of malignant melanoma and the reality that one serious burning could develop into a melanoma in years to come.

There are two types of skin cancer: malignant melanoma and non-malignant skin cancer. Both can be spotted by monitoring your skin, which means checking moles and patches on your skin for any changes. Malignant melanomas occur when cancer develops in skin cells, showing up as changes to moles. These cancers are most common on areas of skin frequently exposed to the sun - such as the head, neck, hands and forearms. If left untreated, it can spread into the blood supply and then around the body, proving fatal.

The first type is basal cell cancer and is the most prevalent. This type grows slowly and usually starts as a small round or flattened lump, which may be red, pale or pearly in colour or a scaly, eczema-like patch on the skin. The second type is a squamous cell cancer that can spread if left untreated. Squamous cell cancers appear as persistent red scaly spots, lumps, sores or ulcers, which may bleed easily.

What explains this devotion? It can't be credited to fashion, like it would be logic to presume. The most cutting-edge swimsuits of the summer have a cut out designs that pose a nightmare of straplines. And although tanned skin has had its moments in vogue the current trend is for a more subtle, natural appearance. However, while this may be true in high fashion, the love of a deep tan is as popular as ever in the world beyond.

So if this isn't about high fashion or good health, what's the explanation? Robert Mighall, a cultural historian and author of Sunshine: Why We Love the Sun, believes the rush to tan is explained partly by the simple fact that the sun feels so good on our skin. ‘There are various chemicals that it triggers - serotonin and beta-endorphins - so we all respond to that,' he says. ‘If something flirts with us the way the sun does, we want it all the more.'

He also suggests we behave with the sun in the way we do with alcohol, food and drugs - as a binge nation.

Of course, many of those who love tanning would attribute their obsession specifically to how it makes them look and feel. We love that it hides our cellulite and shaves off a few kilos, giving us the confidence to wear thigh-skimming summer frocks our pasty selves otherwise would not.

Mighall points out that sunshine is ‘a prime metaphor for happiness', a state associated with childhood, beaches, holidays and ice creams, with warmth, picnics and long, cool, calm blue swimming pools. Sunshine bathes our happiest memories and is associated with relaxation, ease and bliss. On that basis, it doesn't seem so surprising that we'd want to wear it on our skin.

Australian Cosmetic Surgery Magazine