You know the feeling you have when you’ve just met somebody really hot/smart/nice? And you devote x amount of minutes/hours/days to planning your next phone conversation/date/casual browse through the pet store with them? And you Google their name every once in a while, just to see how it feels to type the letters out with your fingers? That’s me and nail art. Only I Google its name to see what it might look like on my fingers.
The nail art craze has got me. Got me good. I can’t deny it. Obsessions bud quicker than a field of horny roses for me. Because obsessions take up time and time takes up money, pruning is a constant requirement. Believe me, if I could watch every video clip featuring a Corgi puppy on YouTube, I would. What other reason could there be for cutting myself off after four?
Yeah, this whole need for nails that are super fresh and fly takes up a slice of my time that I could probably spend on cleaning my apartment or reading a book. And it’s not just the painting that sucks up my time. A good deal of work goes into researching my next masterpiece. This is ART, REMEMBER??? Then of course, there’s the lunch-time strolls through Duane Reade for any special sales or new tools I’m missing. Maybe this is called the “curating” aspect of nail art.
I’m starting to sound like the cat lady of nail art. And I don’t care.
Because even though I’m using embarrassing amounts of mental energy on the decision to paint my crescent moon nails in licorice or barbados blue colors, it’s not for nothing. Besides having awesome nails that I can admire anytime, anywhere, it’s built a new level of intimacy with my girl friends that I haven’t really felt since grade school, when the purpose for hanging out with friends wasn’t to “catch up” on eachother’s lives, or plan weddings, or baby showers. It wasn’t to plan anything. It was for the simple enjoyment of hanging out with a girl like yourself who could braid hair (your’s, your Barbie’s, or your doll’s), or trade chapsticks with you (my personal fave). Not to start weeping Lisa Frank technicolor tears or anything, but um, those days were awesome. And until I had one good friend and DIY fan introduce me to the 70,000 wonders of nail art, I’d all but forgotten they existed.
Not only do I have a new activity to offer friends when they come over for wine – “Look at the Facebook profile of the dude I’m sort of seeing” was getting sooo old – I’ve also felt the love from random ladies at my corner’s bodega, the hardware store, and the street. I’m thrilled anytime someone breaks their bubble barrier to compliment something about my style. But when it’s a lady who’s taken time to notice what’s happening on the one square inch surface area above my knuckles, that’s a home run.
So I spend a few more hours than I should looking at and doing nail designs. I get hours of gal pallin’ and solidarity from strangers on the street. Nailed it.
image [via]
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