In Search of Calm

RHYS BOWEN:
Your flight is delayed and you are stuck at the airport, about to miss a speaking engagement. A dear friend is in hospital. An editor wants rewrites NOW.
We've all been in positions when the stress threatens to become unbearable. I have developed one small tool that I carry with me. On my iPad I have an album of scenes of beauty, most taken by me. I gaze at them, one by one, and feel the tension slip away. I smile as I remember the joy of hiking up to the Matterhorn, of seeing Monet's waterlilies. It makes the time go and I feel refreshed.
So I thought I'd share a few of them with you now.

Do you have any tricks, any good ways of calming yourself in time of stress?

Perfection at my Fingertips

Sylvia Fowler: [Showing her nails to Mary] Mary, how do you like that?
Nancy Blake: Too, too adorable.
Sylvia Fowler: Ah, you have no idea how it stays on. I get it at Sydney's... A wonderful new manicurist, Olga's her name, she's marvelous.Isn't that divine? Jungle Red!
Nancy Blake: Looks like you've been tearing at somebody's throat!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Global climate change. A contentious presidential primary. Afghanistan's a mess. The economy's on life-support. Clearly, it's time to talk about...

Manicures. Sorry, guys, I know you were hoping for a discussion of the Sweet Sixteen, but Ross's beloved Hoyas went down to defeat on Sunday, so we're not talking about college hoops in deference to his loss. I've been thinking about manicures a lot lately -- perhaps because the weather's been so unusually warm (that's going to be the extent of our climate change discussion) and warm weather always means bright, happy nails for me.

When we went off to Florida two weeks ago, I gave myself a quickie pedicure because I realized the day before we left that I'd be showing my feet in public for the first time since August '11. Every since then, I've been admiring my own toes; even when they're only uncovered long enough to take off one pair of socks and put on another, the cheerful coral is like a memento of those warm, sunny days.

Then, last week, my youngest daughter and I spied a sign outside the local day spa. In a bid to get more new customers through the doors (that's today's economic analysis, if you're keeping count) they were running a gel manicure special -- only $20.

Now normally, I'm pretty much a D-I-Y nail painter. I like to change up my color frequently, plus? I'm cheap. But I'd been reading about the super-hard, super-shiny gel manicures that lasted for up to three weeks, and I thought, why not? So Saturday, Youngest and I went in. I selected Cajun Shrimp, a creamy red with coral undertones, and she got Pompeii Pink, shimmery and purpley and suitable for a 6th grader. The nail technician painstakingly applied layer after layer after layer, each of which was baked by ultraviolet light. At the end of the process, my nails looked like someone in the Rolls Royce factory had been hand-lacquering and sanding them. They gleamed. They shone. They looked both expensive and bulletproof.

I had to go home and change my outfit to something worthy of my manicure. Even now, as I type this, I am stopping to admire my flawless fingertips. I'm already planning my next visit. Because if it really does last three weeks, that averages out to less than the cost of a cup of coffee per day. Small price for having one thing in my life that is absolutely, unquestioningly perfect.

How about you, Reds? Manis? Pedis? Or is there some other small beauty treat that makes you feel like you could conquer the world?

LUCY BURDETTE: I was a fiend for painted nails in my earlier incarnation, but now I have to keep them so short, they'd just look silly. The tiniest little extension of fingernail gives me tendonitis when I type--ridiculous!

I've never been a big fan of pedicures--until I tried having one by a pal from exercise class. My feet have never felt so good--and I had no fear about absorbing germs from the masses. My sister-in-law did make fun of me for choosing a color that was pale, pale, pale--next time maybe I'll go wild and ask for Jungle Red:).

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Gel. Rules.
And we are SO au courant, Reds. Did you see in this Sunday's NY Times a whole article on gel manicures? I must say, I am completely won over. My fingernails are now happily #33, which isn't as compelling as Cajun Shrimp but at my neighborhood mani place, the gels are by number. But you know me.It's Jungle Red, if I ever saw it.

It really does last three weeks--but I'd say, actually two, because your nails start to grow out, and it looks a little strange. But it does not chip, does not crack, and is impervious to everything far as I can see. I have actually researched whether there's any health drawback to it, and, interestingly, some people suggest wearing little cotton gloves with the fingertips cut off under the UV light that it needs to harden, because you are baking your hands in, essentially, sunlight. Some salons actually put sunscreen on your hands.

I can imagine some of the Reds HOWLING with laughter. I know, more than you wanna know. But hey. I vote this is a good thing.

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Daughters are dangerous, Julia! Mine got me hooked on pedis a couple of years ago, and like any addiction, there is no going back. I love my Vietnamese nail salon (I'm wondering if the Dallas area is world capitol of Vietnamese nail salons?) and even if I can only afford a polish change, I keep my toes done from March to October (flip flop weather in Big D.) But the Deluxe Pedicure? With sea salt scrub, minty clay wrap, and hot stone massage? Absolute bliss. Makes me feel like a million dollars.

I did a gel manicure for the first time before my book launch in February, and you're right--it looked like the finish on a Rolls Royce. I did a dark purple, so it showed when it started to chip at the cuticles at almost three weeks. Next time I'll do a lighter color and maybe can go four weeks. Unfortunately, our salons charge more than $10....

Thanks for the frivolous boost!

JAN BROGAN - I love pedicures - because they last at least three weeks without the gel. I had my love affair with gel manicures last fall - it was awesome how great they looked for how long, but then I had one that left my nails looking like they'd been digging weeds in the Sahara, so I haven't been back. Like we are talking serious NAIL ABUSE. I think, though, it probably depends WHERE you have them done.

I'm pretty much into anything that smacks of vanity, but like Roberta, I have to keep my nails short. I play acoustic guitar, which those nails are always wrecking a chord, so I don't have a lot of incentive to keep them painted. I also get fidgety in the salon, unless of course, it's an event, and I take my daughter. I think pretty much everything you do is more fun when you have your daughter with you (more expensive, too, though.)

RHYS BOWEN: I have the world's most depressing finger nails. They break and rip and have to be kept short. I've had a few manicures in my life but I'm lucky if they last for the big day before they chip. However, I have never tried gel. Maybe this time...
But pedicures are something else. MY daughter took me to my first and I loved the massage chair, the foot massage and the red-purple polish lasted until it started to grow out. Now it's close to sandal season in Arizona I might think of another visit to the salon (why are they all Vietnamese? Did you ever see the famous skit?)

ROSEMARY HARRIS: Of course I love the look of a pedicure but I am really really squeamish about anyone touching these little piggies. I've had two friends tell me they'll never go with me again because I embarassed the heck out of them by squirming as if I was being tortured. I do the best I can on my own and stay with pale pinkish beige on the tootsies. And between gardening, baking and the keyboard most manicures don't last long for me. Plus my nails grow ridiculously fast, like my hair.

As it happens I watched The Women this weekend and got a kick out of the flashing jungle red nails - but my fave nail polish scene in a movie (and kudos for getting that shot from Scarlet Street) is from Lolita. James Mason polishing Sue Lyons' toenails - oh dear!

JULIA: How about you, dear reader? Do you have a standing appointment at the salon? Or does your nail routine consist of a set of clippers once in a while? Let your hair down and dish -- after all, getting your nails done is a great time to catch up on gossip!

The Urge to be Ornamental

JAN: When I was about eleven years old, I discovered makeup. Probably because she had three boys first and was worried about me being a tomboy, my mother never tried to stop me from wearing the white lipstick and blue eye shadow I favored. In fact, one of her friends worked for Cheseborough Ponds company and she started bringing me free samples.

Ever since then, I've worn makeup -- even to sit alone at the computer in my home office. And I won't even go into the many different and crazy things I've done to my hair. I also pay a lot of attention to clothes and work out with an unusual amount of discipline. What drives me? I call it the urge to be ornamental.

I realize this is not unique to me. The fashion and cosmetics industries prove that most women are driven, pershaps biologically, by this same urge. But I'm still amazed by the power of it. I'm wondering, as writers and career women, do any of you ever wrestle with and/or see the conflict in the need to be meaningful and this urge to be ornamental?

ROBERTA: I guess I'd disagree with the notion that our urge to be ornamental is biological--I think it's very much culture-driven. In my teens and college years, I wore make-up religiously, but then I ran into some feminist thinking in grad school and quit. It doesn't seem fair that men are taken as they are while women have to dress up what they've got to be considered beautiful. So anyway, I'm a little schizophrenic now. I will put on mascara and blush to go out to something special, but make-up while writing? Never!

HALLIE:: Very interesting. Like Roberta I’ve gone back to wearing makeup…when I think of it. But when I’m writing? Egads no. I do, however, draw the line at sitting at the computer in my bathrobe and slippies. I need to at least look like I’m seriously at work.

Still, I like the concept of “being ornamental.” Closest I came to this was in about fourth grade when I was obsessed with being a model. I practiced walking around the house with a book balanced on my head. I struck a pose with one arm bent, the hand in front of me with the fingers delicately arranged, then moved hip is first like I was gliding down the runway. Pause. Pivot. My eyes trained on some ethereal spot beyond the horizon.

When I sprained my pinky finger for the third time, ramming it as I passed through a doorway, my mother suggested that I consider another career. What did I want to grow up to do, anyway, she asked. My nails? She said models were like actresses--boring, self-obsessed, and vapid. I loved that word. Like there were wispy vapors swirling around inside their heads where there should have been brains.

RHYS: I've never been much of a make-up person. Maybe I'm still scarred from a party I gave when I was sixteen and my mother informed me that any girl wearing lipstick would be marched to the bathroom and have her face scrubbed!Like my heroine I did have a briefly disatrous career as a model during the sixties--with Vidal Sasoon haircut and huge Twiggy eyes.

These days I make an attempt to look good in public because the face now needs a little help, but it's usually limited to moisturizer, eyes and lips. I always have that healthy California and Arizona tan. But I can tell that I'm not designed to be oramental by comparing myself with one of my good friends. Whenever I see her she is the complete package--clothes, shoes, purse all coordinate. She wears matching jewelry. At this point I realize that I haven't changed my earrings for six months or my purse for over a year. I once won a facial at an expensive spa and lay there thinking of all the other things I could have been doing.

JAN: I don't think you have to be perfect to be ornamental -- that's just the OCD version. And Rhys, I like the way you just breeze past your brief career as a model! Pretty impressive -- from an ornamental standpoint, anyway!

HANK: Puh-leeze. I'm on TV. I don't wrestle with the decision.. I'm already pinned. Using makeup is like using--shaking head here to come up with something unlivewithoutable--toothpaste. I can put on eyeliner jouncing in the back seat of a speeding cab. I can apply lipstick perfectly in total darkness. When I'm at home, writing, I have my hair on top of my head like Pebbles and would never wear a stitch of makeup. Outside? The full McEvoy.

JAN: I think the Pebbles look can be very flattering....

RO: Ancient peoples adorned themselves with henna, kohl and tattoos...I'm not bloody likely to blame magazines, pop culture, television or Angelina Jolie for the fact that I can happily while away an hour at Sephora and leave with a little shiny shopping bag of war paint that I may never use. It's the fantasy, and I buy into it.

Where else can you spend $100 and convince yourself that you look like a million bucks? (Makeup alert for those who care? Guerlain spray bronzer. Me, but without the deathly pallor or risk of skin cancer. And I just bought something at Monoprix that claims to be "as good as 10 hours of sleep." Who could resist?)

(HANK: Ro, did it work? I want to see... )

JAN: I'm with you Ro. I think there's some sort of female/biological thing going that crosses all cultures. I don't think its been foisted on us by men or any industry -- (although certainly they exploit it) but linked to the whole mating ritual.

I can have a field day in Sephora, too. But I do step outside myself sometimes and laugh at the process, especially when I'm curling my hair with Caruso steam rollers (the very best, by the way.) And I'll be checking out that Monoprix coverup product, especially now that there is a Monoprix down the street (I'm in Aix-en-Provence). Off to shop!