Let’s start with a confession. Are you ready? My nails went many years completely naked. It’s true, most of my life…they’ve been bare. I know, I know. It’s embarrassing to admit, but there’s good news. I’ve finally started to dress them and all is well.
Today, I’m taking you on a step-by-step guide through my journey. If you’ve decided enough is enough and want to clothe your nails too or just want a few tips, this is for you. Also, I think it’s important that I add this next statement.
I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.
The first step is realizing your nails are naked and deciding to do something about it. For me, this involved stalking nail polish aisles in every store I went in. I’m positive my face went on many “watch out for this girl” posters. I never stole anything. I never even snuck a swipe to test the color. Nope, I just stood in the aisle for an unusually long time just staring. It was more of a panicked, where do I begin? It could also have very easily appeared to be the next strange plot on Criminal Minds. I eventually realized this and decided to move on to phase 2.
It was time. It just was. The overwhelming aisle of colors and brands and dry times that haunted me for weeks, it needed to end. Bravely, I approached the shelf. Heart racing, I quickly retrieved the bottle that called out to me. I then quickly put it back. Girl, get a grip. This is happening. This cycle happened about 6 times. The final time, I selected with confidence and even chose a shade darker, just for spite.
The elation that engulfed me was comparable to what I felt the second my children emerged from my body.
This was going to be amazing.
That same night, while still feeling excitement flutters in my stomach, I decided to wait until everyone went to sleep. That’s not creepy. I confirmed all breathing was deep and rhythmic. It was time. With a slight shake, I swiped with fury. The result? It appeared as though I applied the polish on the Tilt-a-Whirl ride. I didn’t care. I did it. My husband entered the room and asked if our toddler painted my nails today.
I said yes.
After sitting completely still for 2.5 hours, I was confident the polish was dry and went to bed. The next morning, I accidentally discovered an easy fix for the rogue color all over my fingertips. It was a few minutes into my shower. You know, the moment you finally wake up and realize you’re standing in rushing water and no longer in the warm, safety of bed. As if that’s not enough shock, I looked down and saw the madness on my fingers.
What had I done?
I laughed. I cried a little. Then, I started trying to scrape it off, with my other oddly painted fingers. I’m picturing it looked somewhat like a dog scratching a relentless flea infestation, but nobody would know. It worked! It came right off. I didn’t need to get out the polish remover, risking the inevitable accidental brush of the nail and having to do touch up. Oh, the horror. No, I just went back and forth between washing and flea scratching.
There you have it. My new weekly routine. I now have every color ever made. I can be fun and flirty, sophisticated, dark and mysterious. It’s the best thing since Shapermint shorts.
Hopefully my tutorial helped just a bit. Even if only for a giggle or two.