If the purpose of travel is to see the sights, then I think I've seen it all. While standing in line at St. Maarten immigration, I saw a woman sporting fake toe nails. I know they were fake because they were a little too long and a little too perfect the way acrylic finger nail tips are. I doubt this will ever make it into the guide books, but it should.
While the women in my circle regularly have false tips put on their finger nails, I am not one them as I lack the requisite amount of patience. Sitting and waiting for the polish to dry on a plain old manicure on my natural nails is about all I can stand. I have never, however, seen a woman with false toe tails.
When I see something for the first time, it's easy to assume that it's something brand new, but perhaps I just don't get out as much as I think I do. At first glance, her toes were reminiscent of bird talons; assuming of course there’s a species of bird who's claws are french manicured and painstakingly decorated with a golden, flowered designs.
A woman with false toe nails is obviously a woman of leisure, with time on her hands, and apparently her feet as well. Getting fake tips on your toes shows a real commitment to sandals, or at the very least to big shoes. It's not clown shoe status, but I'm betting you'll need at least a half size up to accommodate the extra length.
One of the reasons for false finger nails is to strengthen the natural nail, which for some is weak and prone to breakage. Does the same apply to toe nails? Not for me. The strength and resilience of my toe nails are the envy of my fingers; a challenge to any pair of nail clippers. Making my toe nails stronger through the power of acrylic and polish would be like selling arms to China.
Now we’re talking safety. If I go a little too long without cutting my toe nails, my husband's calves pay the price. From what I hear I'm a rough sleeper and once the R.E.M. kicks in I take everybody down with me. What if my toes nails were artificially longer and stronger? A simple scratch, would now be a stab wound. My husband could bleed to death by dawn. I mind as well take a loaded gun to bed. Arrested and jailed, would the media begin calling me the Midnight Slasher? I can't risk it.
As far a new trends go, I've never been a first responder. I may never be up for the uber-pedicure. I'll just continue to sit back and watch with the awe of a tourist.
While the women in my circle regularly have false tips put on their finger nails, I am not one them as I lack the requisite amount of patience. Sitting and waiting for the polish to dry on a plain old manicure on my natural nails is about all I can stand. I have never, however, seen a woman with false toe tails.
When I see something for the first time, it's easy to assume that it's something brand new, but perhaps I just don't get out as much as I think I do. At first glance, her toes were reminiscent of bird talons; assuming of course there’s a species of bird who's claws are french manicured and painstakingly decorated with a golden, flowered designs.
A woman with false toe nails is obviously a woman of leisure, with time on her hands, and apparently her feet as well. Getting fake tips on your toes shows a real commitment to sandals, or at the very least to big shoes. It's not clown shoe status, but I'm betting you'll need at least a half size up to accommodate the extra length.
One of the reasons for false finger nails is to strengthen the natural nail, which for some is weak and prone to breakage. Does the same apply to toe nails? Not for me. The strength and resilience of my toe nails are the envy of my fingers; a challenge to any pair of nail clippers. Making my toe nails stronger through the power of acrylic and polish would be like selling arms to China.
Now we’re talking safety. If I go a little too long without cutting my toe nails, my husband's calves pay the price. From what I hear I'm a rough sleeper and once the R.E.M. kicks in I take everybody down with me. What if my toes nails were artificially longer and stronger? A simple scratch, would now be a stab wound. My husband could bleed to death by dawn. I mind as well take a loaded gun to bed. Arrested and jailed, would the media begin calling me the Midnight Slasher? I can't risk it.
As far a new trends go, I've never been a first responder. I may never be up for the uber-pedicure. I'll just continue to sit back and watch with the awe of a tourist.
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