I'm proud of my sun-kissed face! It was the candid selfie that laid bare the dramatic effects of years of blissful outdoor living. But a defiant ULRIKA JONSSON insists she feels no shame over her weather-beaten appearance

This weekend I posted on social media a photograph I took of myself — fresh out of the shower after a day in the sun, my hair still dripping.

I put it out there so that my followers can see the real me: wearing only a towel, deeply tanned, spectacularly ungroomed, make-up free, moles and all. Call it, if you like, an antidote to some of the celebrity fakery that gets thrown at us so much of the time.

Looking at that selfie now, it isn’t hard to imagine the sort of comments people will have made about it. Indeed, I’m sure the eyes of many will have been instantly drawn to my deep mahogany tan.

They’ll have said, unkindly, that it ages me, that my skin is sun-damaged as opposed to sun-kissed, with rather more wrinkles than other women my age (I’m 52), who are careful to slather themselves with factor 50 sun lotion at the first hint of a sunbeam.

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I put it (pictured) out there so that my followers can see the real me: wearing only a towel, deeply tanned, spectacularly ungroomed, make-up free, moles and all

In fact, the phrase ‘Ulrika’s looks have fallen victim to her love of the sun,’ will, I’m sure, have been uttered more than once.

In other words, the pasty-faced anti-sunbathing lobby strikes again. Does any of that bother me? Not one bit. Because, actually, when I look at that picture I feel only pride. And that’s because what I see is a woman who spends a great deal of time outdoors doing the things that make her truly happy, while not giving two hoots what other people have to say about it. The truth is, I’m so very glad that that woman happens to be me.

The picture in question was taken on Sunday evening. I’d just enjoyed a pampering session in the bathroom as a reward for the tiring, but deeply gratifying day of outdoor labour I’d spent keeping my garden in check.

My tan — which I happen to love because, to me, it represents light and happiness and I think makes me look healthier than when I’m pale — is testament to the uncomplicated joy I get from mowing in the blazing sun.

It also reflects the pleasure I get from some of the simpler things that life offers me: tending my vegetable patch, walking my dog, picking flowers that I grew from seeds, eating a meal alfresco with my kids while enjoying the warmth of the sun against my skin. Oh, and don’t forget the sunbathing — lying prostrate in a bikini enjoying a lazy half hour in the garden with my eyes closed.

I’m the first to admit my skin appears to have suffered as a result of that. Although, when I was a child, sunshine had the opposite effect — I suffered with eczema and the dermatologist my mum took me to urged her to buy a sun lamp and bathe my skin in salty water, which had a seemingly miraculous healing effect.

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Pictured: Ulrikka Jonsson on a Malibu beach in Los Angeles after her breast reduction surgery. My tan — which I happen to love because, to me, it represents light and happiness and I think makes me look healthier than when I’m pale — is testament to the uncomplicated joy I get from mowing in the blazing sunThis ageing thing is certainly something I’ve started to increasingly notice over the past five years, although not with any great sense of alarm.

I think the fact that I’m a bit thinner these days too, which tends to be less forgiving on the face when you’re 52 than when you’re 22, doesn’t help. I inadvertently lost weight — about a stone — during a hectic time with work last year when I was running on adrenaline.

Predominantly though, I’d say those lines and wrinkles boil down to the fact I embrace whatever weather comes down from the sky above me: if it’s rain, oh well; if it’s blazing sunshine, oh boy.

I love being out in the sun. But then most Swedes do, coming from a country where you’re lucky to get five hours of daylight in the winter — never mind any real sunshine.

You only have to walk down a street in the country’s capital, Stockholm, on a cold but sunny lunchtime in January to find office workers and shoppers alike, leaning with their backs against a building, their faces pointing upwards towards the sun.