I recently grew my nails to a somewhat respectable painting length. It didn’t last though, for which I’m somewhat relieved, because I tend to paint and repaint and paint and repaint, like how I customised and recustomised my dolls for a season when I was getting new dolls. I realise I treated them like some customisation/art project. Otherwise, though, I think nails aren’t a very good medium, and truth be told, I always thought that manicures and nail art were for people who didn’t do much. I mean, housework. heh. Point proven when I started to feel guilty about housework neglect and broke a nail in the midst of changing pillowcases. That’s when the whole lot was chopped off.
Prior to that sad little accident though, I was incredibly taken with robin egg blue. I even took to saying it aloud at work, at which a few harrassed colleagues snapped at me that they had no idea what that was and would I please stop referring to it. Hmmm…I really should stop thinking aloud.
I also started trying out new colors I never would have thought of in earlier nail pursuits. I mean, especially, black. Black seemed really uh, cool. I wore black for one week, despite that my clothes didn’t match at all. I think that prompted one fren to ask if we really shouldn’t match our nails and clothes. I also added white to the black, though the white did feel odd. I mean, it felt like painting nails with “liquid paper” (and perhaps we have done such things before in school…it did feel, strangely familiar?).