I like to be well groomed in public. When I am home with my family, it may be a completely different story, but if you catch me in public with the tiny one, it is safe to say that I put at least a C+ effort into my personal hygiene and appearance. Briefly, after the tiny one was born I became acquainted with my real hair color and naked toenails, but I am born again in my high maintenance ways. I thought it quite romantic and clearly creative the other night when my husband told me that the hipsters were copying me in my nighttime granny panty ways with their high-waisted and unflattering shorts, jeans, and bathing attire. Perhaps I should be appalled? No. The underpants I discovered post C section were like manna to a starving man and I cannot give them up. I can only support flirty underpants during the daytime now that I am in my 30’s.
None of this pertains to my thoughts for today, but like any good play from a bygone era, you need the background information for the story. Today we talk nail color. It has been on my mind since the surgeries last month, as has personal hygiene. I have now had 5 fertility related surgeries where the work being performed was below the waist. Surgery is an equal feminine playing field because you cannot show off the cutest outfit or accessory because all you get is a hospital gown, and dammit, they won’t even let you belt it. All I had to work with were my toenails. They were the only way I could communicate that I had an opinion about my appearance since clothing, jewelry (wouldn’t a statement piece at least bring beauty and color to the sterile operating room?), fingernail polish and makeup were not allowed. They even put a shower cap over my hair, so freshly painted highlights just didn’t matter. I had my toes alone to communicate.
I have been stuck in my ways ever since Chanel introduced the color Vamp. I love a blood red, purple or almost black color on my toes. My favorite for the past few years is OPI’s Black Cherry Chutney.
As morbid as the color is in the bottle, it makes me giddy when it is on my toes. Summertime does beg for a little more flirt and a lot more vibrancy. I have been too wimpy to try blue for 3 summers now, and the preparation for the egg retrieval was just the push I needed. I would make a strong fashion statement with my toes alone. I bought my bright blue Essie nail polish and, I must say, I rocked it with my hospital gown. I may have spent 3 days in the hospital without showering, and they may have been weighing me in the hospital bed without my permission, but at least my toes looked good.
Here are 2 summertime musts for your toes, both available at Ulta.com: