The wonderings, ponderings and other 'ings' of me. Lifestyle, review, news and opinion posts. Chic with a hint of sarcasm... hopefully!

Tuesday 10 July 2012


What was I thinking?

I've had a bit of a fallout with my brain recently.  With all the fashion blogs I've been reading I thought I could keep up.  Handle the latest must have looks and show off my stylish prowess.  So when Ombre nails popped up on my radar and Glamour did a step by step guide to doing it at home I thought 'that doesn't look too hard I'll give it a go'. Supposedly you paint your nails one colour, let it dry completely, swirl two colours next to each other on a flat surface, soak up with a sponge, blot onto your nail and presto!

Cool huh? easy huh? Erm no, I haven't been so fooled into believing something since my sister told me that Alan Rickman was gay.... and living with the actor that played Victor Meldrew (I told people this story for YEARS and only just found out the truth this last Christmas.)

But I digress, I thought I'd try it as a pedi and managed the first part just fine.  But so I should seeing as I have been painting my nails since I was a teenager, alone in a bedroom with only my Corey Haim poster for company (I'm digressing again aren't I?).  The trouble brewed when the 'swirling' was called on.

In Glamour's picture, the varnish mixes fluidly like Vodka and Cointreau, Mine made oil and water look like bosom buddies.  No matter how much nail varnish I added or how vigorously I 'swirled' the colours, they merged about as well as Crystal Carrington and Alexis Colby and looked about as stylish (am giving my age away here aren't I ?)

I persevered though, in the delusional belief that I could still make it work, where I hit another snag.  I can't touch sponge.

Even writing about it is making my teeth stick and my breath come out all funny.  Phobias are weird, crazy annoying as all hell things and while mine isn't as bad as others (it's not like sponges have 8 legs and crawl around my house all day) the idea of touching one, and then repeatedly pressing it onto my nails has about as much appeal as finding out what happens if I stick a metal nail file in a plug socket. 

So instead of a (shudder) sponge, I used a sort of rubber make up pad, which basically made my nails look like I had just shoved my feet in a grinder of sorts.   The effect was compounded by the colours I picked.


It was at this point that I had the best idea that I'd had all night.  I thought 'Fuck it I'm having a glass of wine'.  That's the last time I believe anything a beauty magazine tells me :)

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