Polished at 30
I turned 30 last Sunday. I spent most of it looking at my hands, because that is how you can guess a lady’s true age. At least, that is what I gleaned from the numerous panning shots of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills as the camera shifts from taut, wrinkle-free face down to the hands of Skeletor.
A good two hours of my birthday were spent gazing at my mitts, observing my palms, wondering whether my fingers were beginning to look gristly. Finally, I came to a conclusion: This is ridiculous. And: I need to stop watching Real Housewives. That shit is poison for the soul. (But what mindless fun!) Also: I needed a manicure.
The holidays are wonderful for nail lacquers since companies spend the season churning out ball-busting reds and all the glittery hues under the disco ball.
Chanel’s Pirate, the label’s legendary flamboyant red recently re-issued, is the hero hue of the season, reinvented with Chanel’s velvet top coat — rendering it matte.
A friend of Dorothy’s: Butter London Knees Up evokes Judy Garland’s ruby slippers in The Wizard of Oz.Orly’s Ma Cherie, a deep red creme, rivals Chanel in richness, while Butter London’s Knees Up evokes the vivid ruby tones of Judy Garland’s famous footwear in the 1939 film Wizard of Oz. Nars’ Endless Night, a “black-grape nail polish as deep and dark as the night is long,” is a moody approximation of the trend while Laura Mercier’s Twilight is its glitter-infused sibling. Perhaps most compelling is Deborah Lippmann’s Razzle Dazzle, a glittery wine polish that, when painted over old chipped polish on nails, is like an instant facelift. Or Band-Aid for the soul.
At least that’s what I told myself on my birthday, as I hummed the melody of “Happy Birthday” to myself to banish the birthday blues, basking in the fumes of my nail polish.
