In the Spring of 2007, I was dating a true lad. He loved lager, played guitar in a band, and had dirty finger nails. They were always too short, chewed on, with cracked cuticles – just generally bad boy fingernails.
Our lazy Sunday routine usually involved couch time and watching Planet Earth, before a traditional Sunday Roast dinner at his parent’s house. During the couch sessions, I would bring out my manicure kit and do my nails for the week ahead. On this particular Sunday, I said, “Hey, why don’t you let me give you a manicure too?” With a knee jerk, he said, “What? NO!” After a little convincing and a little cajoling, he agreed.
With OCD bubbling under my surface, I knew this was going to be as satisfying as pulling the dried paste off an Elmer’s glue bottle. So, I started. First with a hand scrub, hot towel, and soaking. Then, some filing, nail oil, and a cuticle trim. We moved on to buffing, and smoothing, and shining his nails. They started to look really decent.
We should haven been done, but I couldn’t help myself. I thought, You know what? His nails would look even better with a base coat. And, that’s when I painted his nails. Just one coat. Just with clear polish. He protested a little saying that they looked too shiny. I explained that they were just wet and it was like a nail conditioner that would dry. Also, they looked really pretty.
The next day he came home from work, when I was in the kitchen making dinner. He called out, “One of the girls at the office asked me if I were wearing nail varnish.” My heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?” I called back. “I told her it was nail conditioner,” he said.
Because ignorance is bliss. And Bliss is my new favorite Essie color.