Everyone’s a Winner, We’re Making the Fame
July 18, 2009 § 2 Comments
I got a mani-pedi after work on Thursday; I’ve been wanting to try a new salon because my regular one has possibly the worst selection of polish colors ever — I always end up buying my own, which then increases the overall amount of money that I’m pissing away on what I have convinced myself is a necessary indulgence.
This new place seemed to have a decent color selection — but I was in particular looking for my favorite (which is OPI on Collins Avenue [above], a fairly recent addition to the line). I picked up a bottle I suspected was right, turned it over to check the name on the bottom, and bingo, there it was. Sold. This is my new salon.
And then, as I was having my nails done, I noticed something funny. Every other woman who came into the place and looked at the color wall would pick up a bottle or two or three or four, always flipping it over to read the name.
Maybe some were, but not every single woman could’ve possibly been, like me, seeking out a specific color. So why does the name matter? Why even look?
If you want a blue, does it matter if it’s called Teal the Cows Come Home or Blue My Mind? It really shouldn’t, but it does (I would pick Blue My Mind, obviously, because it seems to pay some homage to Arrested Development). If you want a hot pink, and you hate Paris Hilton, would you refuse to wear That’s Hot! Pink? (I would.) But, ultimately, a color is a color, and the names shouldn’t matter — but they do. Let’s face it … I never even would’ve tried OPI on Collins Ave if it hadn’t been for the obvious Miami tie.
Meanwhile, and on a completely unrelated tangent, halfway through the pedicure, the manicurist looked up and asked me if I wanted my eyebrows waxed, too. I considered it; I am a horrible plucker.
Then I noticed that her eyebrows were drawn on.
I said no.