I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve painted my nails in the past few years. Clean and clear, I’ve long thought, is the chicest answer. “When did you get so boring?” my mother would lament as she looked down at my unvarnished fingertips, which exuded the healthy sheen of a regular buff manicure, but not the freewheeling, fun spirit of someone who joyfully dips their digits in every shade under the sun. Lately, though, during the monotonous days of quarantine, that’s all begun to change.
As news of fresh shades has arrived in my inbox, from Essie’s molten gold to a juicy coral created in a collaboration between Tenoverten and Hatch, I’ve found myself fantasizing about a fresh-from-the-salon polish job. And so, on a recent afternoon, I painted on a coat of Sailor, Chanel’s playful cherry-hued lacquer. A few days later, I tried my hand at Dior’s limited edition shimmering, sizzling orange, which is scented with bergamot and seemingly made for steamy New York nights out on the town—of course, a distant reality, if not a downright dream. Right now, the future is uncertain. We may not know when we can safely venture out again, but when we do emerge one thing’s for certain: My nails and I are going to paint this town red.
Source: vogue.com
