Due to my having to venture into the outside world and socialize during this time, I am feeling a little blurry today. In fact this morning I may have used the words my, mouth, feels and badger's arse in conjunction with each other.
I'm not sure if I'm up to rambling nail varnish related prose, but I'll have a go anyway.
And it's cheap as chips, which is lucky as I feel the need to remove and reapply it daily. If there's as much as a hint of a chip, or dent or flake I have to take it all off and start again. No just carefully filling in the damaged bit - I can see it. So I'm off to remove the polish again - at this point my actual nails have turned a sort of acid washed pink colour (even using a clear base coat doesn't help) and my fingers are stained. But I can't stop.
4 comments:
I had completely the opposite nail related trauma when I was a child - a beautifully manicured Auntie Barbara who would demand that I show her my hands, and then if they were deemed fit she would paint my nails for me. I'm now 35 and I still don't paint my own nails, just go for the occasional file and polish in a nail bar somewhere, because it's deep rooted in my psyche that only nail varnish perfection is good enough. She was also the provider of my first ever spray of perfume (Opium) and my first vodka and tonic.
Auntie Barbara sounds like my kind of lady!
oh ever since alexa chung mentioned something re: names of nail polish being silly...or something like that...i basically have "nail polish" and everything in and around it...tattooed on my brain!!!
oh and i tried to go nail-polish-less on my toes for a few days...and felt like such a plain jane...and then at 3am offered them a "blood red" polish...
feet very happy! ;))
Very nice. I use Rimmel's 'Celebrity Bash' (cringe) and find it less staining than Chanel's polishes.
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