I watch my metallic red acrylic nails dance their way across the keyboard, with a satisfying clickety clack. The flash of red and steady beat of my drumming nails gives me a feeling of femininity and importance. Call it mind games, but I feel pretty damn hot with a good paint job on my talons. What is it about a manicure that can completely change a woman’s outlook?
For me, acrylics are a way to immediately dress up my look without even putting in effort. Say I’m going to the grocery store late at night and can’t be bothered to change out of my pajamas. I can look down at those Jessica Rabbit fingernails and flash them at the cashier as I hand over my $3.50 for my cheap frozen cake. In a desperate attempt to show him I’m not a slob. “Hey girl,” I think to myself, “chin up, buttercup, at least your nails are on point.”