Day 90: You Are What You Nail Color Is.

If you're an American and/or diva living in France, you'd know that it is nearly impossible to get a quality manicure or pedicure. Even if the salon boasts that they specialize in 'American-style' manicures, it's misguided and will not be at all what you're expecting; quality, reasonably priced and a massage at the end while you dry. In Paris, a half-assed pedicure costs 35 euros where you are charged an extra five euros for colored nail polish. Seriously, who puts clear on their toes?! Having experienced one too many unsatisfactory salon trips, I either have to do them myself which is a disaster, or do nothing. Now that I'm in New York for the month, it's time to take advantage of these New York delights.

Six months of climbing up many flights of stairs in my building, my morning commute to the Champs-Élysées  in worn-out ballet flats and high intensity work-outs at my gym, you could imagine how banged up my feet look, and are in desperate need of some TLC. In preparation for my cousin Angelo's wedding, I went for 'manis and pedis' with my mom...on Long Island. Exhale.

Upon taking off my flats at Pink Angel Nail, my mother looked down and shouted, "That's disgusting!" Her face was scrunched up as if she was looking at her tax return. Pure disgust. "Why are your feet so crusty?" she continued. I looked down and while I wouldn't say they were crusty, they didn't look great with chipped and faded polish from January and uneven nails from my botched up clip job. 

Over by the selection of colors, my mom was looking ferociously through all of them, turning them upside down, reading the names and then slamming them back down. "What are you looking for?" I asked in amazement at her fury. "Suga Daddy. I like Suga Daddy," she said while holding several shades of pink in her hand, "And hey, I could use a real one too, so if ya know anybody." she joked in a faux-mumble while looking left and then right, clearly amused with herself. Ew but noted. I started to help her look for Sugar Daddy when I stumbled upon and fire engine red color called "Red Thong In Divorce Court" and handed it to her. "That's more like you, Mom". I told her teasingly and knowing that she'd react. She took it, pulled down her glasses and read it out loud. "Red Thong in Divorce Court!" She looked up at me over her glasses. "They didn't make thongs back when I took your fatha to divorce court. Panties were 'French Cut' back then. None of this thong business!" Mind you, we were not the only ones in the salon, we were on the guidette mothership and they were all ears. "I want Suga Daddy. It matches my dress and my glasses!" We finally found Sugar Daddy and she went over to see her 'girl' Sue. As for myself, I ended up doing "Not Just For A Good Time" on my toes and "Careless Whisper" on my fingers. Although the shade of "Basket Case" would have matched my dress better, I refused.

Today is about seeing how deep a visit to Pink Angel Nail can be and that your nail color is not just a name. It means something.

1 comment:

  1. I am Red Hot Ayers Rock, I will take Ayers as Kevin Ayers!