Nail Polish Revisited

The nail polish is chipping. It lasted ten days. What now?

I go to the local drug store and check out the nail aisle. Hmmmm, all those gadgets. When I had the manicure done, I made mental notes of all the steps and supplies so I could stock up on all the necessities when I returned home. Trouble is, the list now resides deep in brain tissue under five days of Dallas disorganization, one day of babysitting and six days of work.

So I go down the aisle and and toss every tool that has anything to do with manicures and pedicures in my basket figuring I'll remember the routine when I lay out the tools. Wrong.

I sit down at the kitchen table this evening and arrange all the implements. The first step is obvious. Remove the old polish. I soak a Kleenex in the improved formula, non-acetone, protein enriched polish remover. No luck. not even a smudge. I soak a extra fluffy all cotton ball in the stuff. Still no luck. Wondering if I should have bought stuff with acetone. Wondering if there is a more appropriate tool to perform this task. Consider the chisel-like instrument. Think better of it. Soak a cotton square and try again. The polish is now smudged. One hundred cotton squares later I now see dull nails with tinges of ruby red here and there.

I hate nail files. But I get out the roughest file in the batch and work away at the edges, careful not to trim too much. My old method of hacking off the split nails with clippers every week left these short stubby nails so there isn't much to work with. Two or three swipes along each nail and I'm done.

But wait, there's this other tool that has three different files on it. At least I think they are files. I read the directions. Three steps. Step #1 Clean. Step #2 Condition. Step # 3 Shine. Aha, this must be what buffs the nails. So I do each step a couple of times across each nail. Still dull but I've had enough buffing.

Okay, I'm tired of this whole scene so I put the remaining conglomeration of tools back in my see through bag that I bought just for manicure supplies. Maybe I should just leave the nails bare. But no, I am now used to seeing color and gotten past the initial first reaction from all my acquaintances, that snide, "Is that really you?" thing they all do.

So I bring out my polishes. I never buy one of anything. Don't trust myself. So I check out the three colors I had selected in the store. Pink Pearl because that's what my mother always wore, Lavendar because it might look cool with my purple outfits, and a deep rose just in case. I think the light must have been bad. These do not look like they did in the store. I select the darkest one. Figured it wouldn't be so obvious if I lightened my color each time until I get back to natural. Kind of like the way I dye my hair.

Decide to do my right had first since it will be the most difficult. Use half a box of Kleenex to fix the edges. Try to use one of those wooden sticks like the manicurist used to smooth back the cuticles. No luck. Oh well good enough.

The left hand is easier. Except that I smudge the right fingernails by the time I'm at the left middle finger. Another half box of Kleenex, remnants are clinging to sticky polish on both hands.

The Kleenex is gone. The cotton balls are gone. The cotton squares are gone. I give up. I must be done. So I sit back and check it out. Not bad if I remove my glasses. Good enough.

But it seems there is one more step. The shiny overcoat. No problem, it's clear. I apply this quick and easily. Now my fingernails and fingertips shine.

I happen to see my toenails. They don't match my fingernails. Not even close. I call my sister-in-law. "Do they have to match?" I ask. I know the answer. But the toes still look good. I don't want to redo them. So I opt the be two toned. Feel like when I was a kid and was criticized because my purse didn't match my shoes.

In the process of putting away the rest of the stuff, I mess up a couple of nails. Grab used cotton and remove polish. Redo. Redo another one. And another. Figure out I should just leave stuff on table and come back later. Would be a good time to check my email.

I decide I should write this all down for prosperity. Or just to bore someone out there. Then I notice, My right thumb is smudged. My space bar has specks of pink rose polish. Think I'm going to repair it? Not a chance.

I've come to several conclusions:

1. I want to go back to the old days when this was a two step process. Remove old polish with the only brand of polish remover available and apply one coat of the only kind of polish on the market.

2. I need to find a good professional manicurist.

3. Men must have invented painted ladies.