Last Thursday, I had a rather important interview. The kind of important interview where nothing but perfect presentation will do. Importance on the professionalism, not the funky.
Luckily, I relate more to a polished Hepburn than a rocked-out Wasson, so classic makeup and a super sleek, voluminous top knot was the go.
One area that unfortunately got the last minute treatment were my nails. Having removed the scraggy chipped polish and roughly trimmed and shaped the night before, I was left with one hour to go and not a glossed digit in sight. My goal was ultra chic manicured neutral, as we all know a lady with her nails under control most certainly runs her life in the same way, right? No! But shhh!
I arrived at Chadstone shopping centre a with game plan and made a bee line – quite literally, with all the diversions and the loops, only without the bum wiggle – for the nearest cheap and cheerful nail salon. Only I didn’t know where one was. Yes, I’m a regular Chaddy gal, but I tend to stick to the glossy outer, aka the loop of luxe, rather than delving into the deep belly. Would I ever come out?!
Yeah. I did. With nothing to show for it except an increasingly irate blister on the ball of my foot, and a faster pulse due to my power walking in high heels (no doubt the blisters enemy) and the minutes that were rapidly ticking past. I found the information desk, who directed me back down and around the corner to a manicurist who wanted to charge $22 for a PAINT! Come. on. Are you serious?
Up again, and to the friendly Proactiv lady who suggested another nail bar, which I promptly stopped off to find, only to stop half way and turn around, with a disgruntled “Eff it! I’ll buy my own polish and do it myself!” Ahh, how your mind does silly things when you’re frantic! I basically ran into Sportsgirl, picked the ‘Nude’ shade of their Nail It range, $7.50, (and a pair of slip ons that were on sale -oops!) and ran back out to find the nearest public toilets, because that’s how classy chicks like me roll.
Time was definitely ticking by this point and I’m sure my stressed hand didn’t help but the Sportsgirl was certainly not cooperating. It was runny, slid down my nail and onto my hand, and didn’t evenly apply to the nail bed. After three nails, I gave up, and tried to wash the nail polish off under the water. Oh. What a bloody stupid idea, Curtis. It had now half dissolved onto my hands and left sticky patches all over my nails. Shit.
Swearing at the bottle of Nail It, I ran back out, ignoring the pulsating mountain on the bottom of my foot, to try and find the nearest chemist. ‘Nail polish wipes have been invented right?’ was my mantra as I almost bowled over a lady in the doorway of MyChemist. I breathlessly requested said nail polish wipes, only to be told they didn’t have any. Luckily, another lady butted in and corrected her that they did. She pointed at the Cutex Moisture Guard Nail Polish Remover Wipes (5 sachets) and I could have kissed her, even though they were almost $7 – I totally wouldn’t have cared if they were $20 (lie). Handbag staple from here on in!
Friend..and foe.
While the smell of acetone nearly knocked me out, (the Nail It has a uber strong cheap polish smell too, btw) they worked a treat and successfully removed the polish off my fingernails and hands. Oh and that splash on my arm. Pity they couldn’t hold back the strands of hair that had escaped from what I thought was the Alcatraz of top-knots.
I just made it to my interview, with the real neutral of nail polish – nada. Which shows I’m just that in control of my life I didn’t have time to schedule in a paint, right?! No! But shh!
Oh, and I think I totally killed the interview. Fingers crossed!