In a vain attempt at being a new mommy/fashionista, I thought I'd start small and invest in some new $8 nailpolish. Actually, I got suckered into it at this random kitchsy store called Del Sol in the Pavilions (downtown Denver). Del Sol is the gimmicky type of store you wouldn't be caught dead in -- which is why they always plug themselves into the most expensive real estate (they're so ambitious) and end up out of business six months later. The guy claimed that they've been in business for three years, but I've only been gone for two. And this mallrat will tell you that they weren't in that space when I left Colorado. Anyway, the catch at Del Sol (aside from the fact that they are right across the walkway from the new Coyote Ugly -- can you truly franchise trashy grunge from backalley NY? Come on!) is that everything changes color in the sunlight. Bags, t-shirts, jewelry, and alas, nailpolish. They claim that NASA invented this technology. I'm still a little unclear about why astronauts are painting their toes and flaunting t-shirts with Mayan sundial designs in space, but who am I to judge?
The owner - we'll call him Dave - offered to paint my nails to show me how this stuff works. He slopped on some clear nailpolish and had me stick my hand in front of this U/V light. I'm sure it's healthy working in a store filled with U/V lightboxes. At the end of the day, Dave is a large glowing blistered mass of skin. A 25'x25' tanning booth without the white trash Playboy bunny stick-ons. But, I digress. The clear nailpolish quickly turned to a very light watered-down reddish-pink the color of juices that run out of chicken before you've reached the "only eat once juices run clear" doneness. Of course, suffering from my non-Catholic/Catholic guilt, I thought,
"This guy is trying to make a living. Your $8 purchase may be just the thing to keep him in business another day. Besides, he gave you a manicure. The worst manicure ever, but a manicure."
Dave admitted to practicing on his 4-year old daughter. And we all know that 4-year olds would dip their entire hand in the nailpolish if given the chance. That will give you a little visual of the type of manicure. Bottom line, I picked out a bottle of seemingly harmless frosty white nailpolish that supposedly changes to a deep shade of purple. The white looked like what I wore on my wedding day (not exactly a hey-look-at-me-I'm-back-on-the-fashion-scene shade), but I liked the purple and I thought the white might look nice on tan feet. Not that I'm tan yet, but I have big plans for summer - tan feet! My sister-in-law, Tina, bought a bottle of green with suspended pieces of glitter that changes to pink. Don't ask me what she was thinking. It looked like lip gloss that Idina Menzel would wear in Wicked, but Tina was buying for my 5-year old niece. See above for an explanation of pre-schoolers and nailpolish.
After getting our purchases home, we decided that maybe two coats would be less transparent than one. I spent a languorous hour giving myself a pedicure with the white/purple polish. No, I didn't think the green glitter was my thing. I finished and ran to the deck to try it out in the sun. It turned to a greyish shade of purple, sort of that pastel-y/steely purple that was popular for prom dresses in the 80s. Not bad. Not exactly the seductive eggplant on the bottle, but it would do. I spent the weekend in Santa Fe secretly admiring my own toes every time they changed to Purple Tafetta. On Tuesday, I noticed that the white was no longer that virginal Dairy Queen vanilla color. It wasn't until my dad was over on Tuesday that it was officially confirmed:
"You have gold toes"
Yes, it's true. The white has transformed to a shade of orangish-gold. Rather than offsetting my fantasy tan feet, the nailpolish is now the color of Dave's face after a day working in the U/V haven that is Del Sol. In my world gold toes are only acceptable when combined with gold lame shoes and the salsa in a ballroom dance competition. And this new mom, fashionista or not, is not venturing down that path!