I am not going to write about Covid-19, because I’m trying not to think about it. I am also not going to write about the March-school blahs, because I’m trying to avoid them. And I am certainly not going to write about “The Bachelor” and the stupid way the entire season went, complete with radio spoilers that didn’t even come true and a finale that focused on his mother, because I’m trying to get over that show. Phooey.
Instead, I want to let you in on some fun that I’m having—that is, if I’m not obsessing about the Coronavirus. But first, some background.
I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. Never a doubt in my mind. I didn’t even have a plan B, that’s how sure I was/still am. But I spent more time in my bedroom as an adolescent/pre-teen putting on makeup and doing my hair than I spent in college to become a teacher. Not kidding.
(I’ve also spent the better part of my post-teenage years searching for the perfect mascara to make my lashes as long and as curled as possible. Also not kidding.)
Still, I never thought of cosmetology as something for me, until I started getting my nails done several years ago. The hair salon where I’ve been going for more than twelve years didn’t have a nail person, and I often jokingly told my stylist that I’d get my nail tech license during the summer and come work for her. She loved the idea.
(If you’re keeping track—and still reading—then you know my priorities in beauty are 1) hair, 2) lashes, and now 3) nails, both fingers and toes.)
And then my daughter Natalie went to cosmetology school, and it was so much fun learning things vicariously through her. She, too, tried to get me to take classes over the summer, so that one day, we could start our own salon together. What a dream!
Natalie also took an interest in lash extensions, thus, so did I, and soon, we were both getting those done, too. (She even got the certification to be a NovaLash stylist!) It’s a splurge, but I no longer waste money coloring my hair, OR searching for the perfect $20 mascara, so hey, it evens out.
Perfect hair, perfect lashes, but when it came to my nails, I could never get it right.
I had acrylics, then didn’t have acrylics (because the tools were too hard on my nails). Then I tried gel manicures, the Shellac system, and I loved them so much, I bought the system with my cosmetology-linked daughter’s help. Unfortunately, the gel didn’t last as long as they said it would, and the polish would lift enough to tempt me to peel it off, and then there went the top layer of my nail with it. Weak, broken nails resulted from those gel manicures, so I quit.
Then I tried gluing press-ons to my nails and pressed so hard I caused dents near my cuticle that took forever to grow out. Then expensive polishes and strengtheners, but those never looked as good as anything else, streaky and uneven in color. So I went back to tips and acrylic.
But I hated spending the money and time to travel, and after several months, I gave up again. No more fills, no more ombre pink nails. I even stopped wearing my pretty rings and bracelets that showed off my fingertip jewels and decided to just have bare nails. I’d have to get satisfaction with pretty toenails, I guessed.
And then, a few months ago, a friend of mine invited me to her “nail party” on Facebook. What was this? Color Street? Nail strips made of real nail polish you could just stick on and wear for two weeks? Yeah, right.
But what the heck, I decided. I’d support her, buy just one set, and see if it was true.
I applied the set myself, added a super shiny, fast drying topcoat, and the set stayed on for almost two weeks. No chipping, no peeling, and no unevenness in a very sheer color. I was—and still am—floored. My nails even grew. I fell in love.
That’s when I decided that I didn’t need to go to summer beauty school to become a nail tech. Why would I want to do fake nails on people when I could make real ones look just as good? And why couldn’t I do sorta the same thing from the comfort of my own home? I certainly knew plenty of people: colleagues and friends, family and neighbors, former students and daughters’ friends. Plus, the product’s quality spoke for itself.
So I decided to jump in—all in—and I became a Color Street independent stylist. I can hook you up with some pretty dang snazzy nails now.
Or not. No big deal to me. I’m not that kind of salesperson. And this is not that kind of a blog post. I just wanted to share.
Because I’m just having fun with what I’ve always had a passion for: being a diva.
And it’s making me happy. Right now is a good time to try to be happy, y’know?
So do something to feed one of your passions, okay?
And do it now. Especially now. You might thank me.
(Or buy some really awesome nail strips: https://www.colorstreet.com/AimeetheDiva. I told you the post wasn’t about the Coronavirus!)
2 thoughts on “This Post Is NOT about the Coronavirus; Pinky Nail Promise”
This is about as far out of my element as I get. When I want to make points with my wife, I get her a day of beauty at the spa.
What I can agree with you on is the part about following one’s passion. I loved everything about teaching (thirty-one years in grades 2-6), but the best part of retirement has been the opportunity to get after those things I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve already knocked off a bunch of items from the Bucket List, and I’m having a blast. (even if I’m not going to open a nail salon.) 😎
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The Bucket List! Yes! And good for you. 🙂