There are no tricks or gimmicks tonight, kittens.
Everything is exactly as it seems.
My mitts. Au naturel.
I know. I KNOW.
I’m as shocked as you are.
When I hopped off the plane in D.C., getting the terrifying remnants of that week’s manicure off of my mitts was one of my first orders of business.
Had I noticed the train wreck on my hands the night before, I would have dealt with it then.
Sometimes you just don’t…notice.
Once the polish was gone, I just never got around to addressing the situation.
I mean, maintaining a put-together pair of mitts is something I’ve attached a great deal of importance to for the past few years. But I never gave my poor nails a chance to breathe. So I figured if I gave them that, I probably wouldn’t be any worse for the wear.
Plus, you can’t exactly “chip” your nails when there isn’t any polish to mangle.
I originally thought that I would cave after a few days, so no one is more surprised than me that this charade has lasted as long as it has.
I like to think of it as discovering another dimension of inner-peace.
How often do you go polish-free?
I’m not at all bothered by the fact that my mitts are covering themselves in The Original Grey Suede at the moment. On the other hand, when I see people with unpainted toes, I find the situation to be deeply unsettling. I’m not sure why, specifically, but something about it just doesn’t seem…right.