Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack go my fake nails.
My manicure journey so far. Plus: this fall's barn jacket look and handbag.
Hey-ho Midlifers!
Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack go my fake fingernails, tapping against the laptop keys.
I went to the nail salon about a month ago to try to get a manicure like what I see on the girls in my office and instead ended up with nail tips that have grown so long that the fourth grade me is bursting with excitement but the 58 year old me can’t open a can of seltzer or text.
The problem is that my female coworkers who I interrogated asked weren’t sure what the types of manicures were called. Now I know that it’s UV gel with gel on top. But when I tried to explain both on the phone making the appointment and then standing at the reception desk, they said something, I said “okay,” and next thing I know a manicurist is gluing tips onto my nail beds.
I stop her about two nails in and march back up to the front to ask if they had a menu I could look at to see what service options were listed. It’s one of those strip mall nail salons, next to the local Whole Foods and surrounded by a Jersey Mike’s and a hibachi place and I am making a scene.
Everyone is clearly annoyed with me that I don’t know what I want. And I am struggling to understand what they are saying because English is not their first language and everyone is wearing a face mask. I decide I’m involved in the tips and am just going to go back and let her keep gluing but then instruct her to cut them down to the nubs so that they’re the usual super-short length I like. I got a summer-y red gel on top and they were squared off at top and kinda rounded at the side and pay $70 + tip for the full experience.
I mean, in retrospect, the problem was not the girls in my office or the women at the nail salon, but me. I probably should have done some more research into today’s manicure options. I have a permanently split fingernail on my right hand that catches on things if I don’t keep it covered, which has led me on this journey. And the owner of my long-time nail salon told me a while ago I had to stop doing the regular gels because my fingernails had thinned to the consistency of filament from years of abuse. A decade of Esther, who I went to for forever, scraping gel off my fingernails and wearing them down to the nubs.
So, one month later, I have these boxy talons — two of which immediately fell off on my right hand — that are now as long as the girls’ in my office but aren’t trendy, all tapered and pointy. No, these are like bricks at the ends of my fingers.
Anyway, I haven’t known what to do about them. I want them gone and I’d start trying to pry them off my fingertips if I didn’t experience just how GLUED they were when those errant two nails started to lift from the bottom. My daughter had to get nail clippers and tweezers to help free them from my nail.
And I can’t handle going back to the salon and asking them to remove them. So, this is a long way of telling you that both of my daughters are back this weekend for the Sea Hear Now concert with Bruce Springsteen tonight and I’m forcing them in my car to go to CVS and buy the tools needed to remove my nail tips and free my nail beds.
I can’t wait to be able to pull my hair up into a ponytail and not get my left pointer finger stuck halfway up my head as strands of hair get stuck under that fake nail. Or text with all my fingers and not just the pointer finger that broke free a few weeks ago.
G’bless to all of you who rock the nail tips. And know what you want. You are better than me.
sunday shares: read + watch + cook + buy
Strapped. Recently, I was gifted a delightful tortoiseshell strap to add to my Clare V bag that I carry every single day and it brings me so much joy. It clickety-clacks, just like my fingernails, but does NOT get caught in my hair. FYI I picked up that bag on a super sale last year where it was more than $100 off and saw it on super sale again this year, too. So just keep looking. Also, please enjoy the chaos of my tabletops.
Trending. This quilted barn jacket from Old Navy hits all the trendy buckets — quilting, courduroy collar, shape — and is way cheaper than the Barbour version that I really want.
Bird launcher. I really do believe this, that my job was to prepare my kids to fly away, and not linger in the nest like a smelly egg.
THANK YOUUUUUUU for reading. I am SO glad you are here.
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See you next week! xoAmy.
Your poor nail beds must hurt! Enjoy Sea Hear Now and thanks for the adorable jacket recommendation!
I was scared of these nails before (and eyelash extensions too!) so I guess I will stick with my little nubs. Thanks for this cautionary tale! xx