Since the days when I worked in the cosmetics department, I haven’t been the type of girl who sees preening activities like getting your nails done a necessity. Sure its nice, it makes you feel pretty, but at the end of the day I would rather spend that weeks wages on food rather than toe nails that glisten. for example:
When I worked for Clarins I bought all the expensive mascaras (my addiction) that promised to make your lashes look model-esque but as soon as I realised that my wage would not allow for hundreds of pounds of lotions and potions, I soon went back to normal. Their dictator style “wear fake tan or die” mentality didnt wash well with a girl who’s excema made her regularly look like a giraffe, and the “wear the lipstick that’s in season” was annoying too, as every red clashes with either my skin or my hair. It was a minefield.
So while on my recent trip to California. I had a manicure, a pedicure and a body massage, which was lovely. They preened and primped my hooves and trotters and gave me a good rub down to ensure that I looked my best, to counteract the snoring and dribbling on the flight home (hahaha, its funny because it’s probably true).
When I say I loved it, I was a little concerned. The relaxing thought of having a massage always sounds like a really good idea, but in reality when you have your face pushed into the face hole in the bed, all you can think about is whether you will accidentally fall asleep and dribble all over the floor (Are you sensing a pattern? Total paranoia). Both my Auntie and Uncle are masseuses which takes away some of the embarrassment factor, but opens up a whole other can of worms. Sure, you remove the worry of snoring in front of a stranger, but it adds in the fear of doing something embarrassing and having it discussed around the dining table for years to come. it will become the “do yo remember when….” story. For example, one year my sister question whether you could only see Orion’s belt from the UK… whenever I have a massage I risk being the funniest thing that happened on that trip. It’s a lot of pressure to try to avoid.
When I went in I resembled a tree from Lord of the Rings; wizened and knotty, but when I came out it was like a grubby little caterpillar that emerged as a butterfly, all elongated and relaxed. With hair not dissimilar to a bird’s nest.
We went for a quick coffee which scared passers-by as we were both wearing jogging bottoms (never an item of clothing you should be seen out in unless on the way to or from the gym) and neither had make up on. Combined with the shrubby look that I was sporting on my head, people recoiled in horror.
So imagine the mutual disgust of the ladies in the nail salon. To really appreciate the nail salon, please watch the video below. It’s totally accurate.
We walk into the place, totally make up free and looking like we had been roughed up by tramps, ready for the next stage of our beautifying process. The ladies looked absolutely horrified at the state of our hair and our outfit choices and started rushing around, prepping hot pools of water and sticking our hooves in to be totally certain they didn’t have to touch them as they were. They creamed and buffed and scrubbed and trimmed until we barely had any foot left and then they started on our hands.
I am fairly precious about my nails. For the majority of the time they are short, but I try to grow them so they look as pretty as they can, so when they are of a certain length I don’t want them trimmed by someone who thinks they should be. “I cut?” she said. “No thanks” I replied, “Just shape” and went back to reading a magazine about liposuction. Nice light reading.
She then informed me that she had to trim them to be the same length as the other ones, because she didn’t like them looking different. I stood my ground, insisting that I wanted them left alone. The lady began tutting, and then jabbering on to her friend in Vietnamese. I think she might have been cursing me to the God of nails, but whatever she wa saying, it made me uncomfortable.
This went on for twenty minutes, until she sensed I wasnt paying attention, and trimmed them anyway. I left the nail salon wondering if I had missed out on the Womanhood Bible, and where in scripture it was written that a girls nails all had to be the same length.
What do you do to make yourself feel good?
They say a change is as good as a holiday, so I have changed the look of the blog. Let me know what you think, or just have a chat with me on Twitter @lillyheart999
I also need to find out which of you live in and around the London area, so let me know if this is you! 🙂