Posts Tagged ‘nails’
E: M, I desperately need your help. See, I have sneaked off and bought the nail varnish of my dreams which is the pretty, berry, Chanel April. I have waited. Lusted. Saved. And now I have it.
M: Good. HURRAH! Put some on, quick.
E: Yeah, see. There is a problem. And not just with HSBC. The problem is my nails. Are. FUCKED. The winter has killed them. They are split, cracked, weak and generally shit.
M: How fucked are we talking about here? Fucked as in ‘had a quick fumble on the sofa’?
E: No. Fucked like .. oh god. Don’t make me use pornographic analogies M, I’m waaaay too british for that. Fucked like … my garden after Satan has been for his morning stroll.
M: I see. Are your fingers aye-aye esque, E?
E: Worse, M. I can’t even use them to find grubs.
E: WHAT TO DO? Do you have any thoughts?
M: Yes, but you’re not going to like it, E.
E: Uh oh.
M: Yes. You know what’s coming. You need to…
E: NOOOOO
M: … EAT HEALTHILY
E: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Please no.
M¨: Yes. Leafy green vegetables, shit with vitamin in it, calcium, that sort of thing.
E: Ok, I have an idea. How about I take those tablet things, what are they called? You know, the expensive skin ones that I bought and never used? Not Immodium. Something similar.
M¨: Imaaifhodiufaoidusiud. Beautiful skin, in a tablet.
E: Yeah, those.
M: I had some too.
E: Any good?
M: I lost them somewhere between Jakarta and Siem Reap. So WHO KNOWS.
E: I think mine are in my bedside table, but they might be expired shark cartilage.
M: Delicious, delicious shark cartilage. There’s another fabulous thing I want to recommend.
E: Oooh tell me. It better not be motherfucking rainbow chard, M.
M: Nope, no chard. It’s Sally Hansen Diamond Strength Instant Nail Hardener. It’s like coating your nails in ground up unicorn horn.
E: Oh, excellent. A product based solution: always the best.
M: That shit. Does not chip. And it turns your mails into fingerclaws. In a good way.
E: COOL. I long for claws.
M: So.
Step 1: eat healthily
E: BOOOO.
M: Step 2: switch to a gentle nail polish remover and the toughness of diamonds
E: Meh, ok, I suppose.
M: Step 3: feed them oil. Rosehip maybe? I clearly don’t know what I’m talking about.
E: Yeah, there must be some other unguent I can use. We should ask the Goopists. They might know. Please Goopists, is there anything you can save me from healthy eating and – sign of the cross – WATER? Help! I promise to try out and report back on whatever you recommend.
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M: So, we are now a real beauty blog.
E: We are? Sorry, we are. Yes.
M: We have been sent Free Stuff to review.
E: I KNOW. It’s easily the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me! Well. Maybe second after Mexican Wrestling.
M: Calm down. Remember, we have only been sent Cheap Stuff. Namely, a bag of ELF. Which is not to be confused with a bag of Elves.
E: That would be really horrible.
M: Annoyingly cheerful.
E: Squeaky. Neat.
M: And efficient. Basically everything we stand against here at Facegoop.
E: Yup. So thank goodness we didn’t get any of those. Instead we have a leatherette pochette of various cheap and cheerful products.
M: Including a bottle of purply nail polish called Purple Punk.
E: Ha. Punk. What do you reckon to the nail polish M?
M: It’s free from all sorts of things -Toluene, Formaldehyde, and Dibutyl Phthalate, which I think is supposed to be a good thing.
E: So what does it have in? Elf breath?
M: Squashed punks, obvs.
E: Oh yeah, squashed punks. I’m surprised squashed punks come out a such a pretty colour. I would have thought they would be grey, what with the black PVC and the pasty skin. What did you actually think of it?
M: I think you are confusing punks with S&M fetishists. Well, I actually really liked it. It’s pretty easy to apply, and the shade is good. I don’t have anything like it, and you could wear it in summer and winter.
E: Yes, I probably wouldn’t have bought it, but now I have it, I would totally wear it. It’s not very purple, is it?
M: No, I suppose not. It’s pinky purple.
E: Fuschia. The colour of, erm, anarchy.
M: The problem is it takes forever to dry.
E: Dammit, woman, now you tell me. I’ve just put some on my little fingernail!
M: I left it for at least 2 hours, and still got hair marks all over it during the night. Look:
E: So I’m stuck, you’re telling me? I can’t move all evening?
M: Yup. You can’t do anything with your pinky. From now until breakfast. No scratching your ear hole. No tickling your nose.
E: I will just have to hold it aloft and admire its pinky purpleness.
M: Shame you didn’t put it on your middle finger.
E: So: Elf Punk Purple. Nice with one of those quick drying topcoat things. Crap if you don’t have any and you’re in a hurry.
M: Crap if you’re crap, basically.
E: Which we are. Fatal flaw.
M: Sigh.
E: Sigh.
Elf Punk Purple nail polish, £1.50
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E: Nice nails, M.
M: They’re Barry M’s finest. Nail photos are stupid. I feel like a dork. Ooooh check me out clutching a tiny bottle.
E: You strike a good nail pose, I think. Dainty and stylish.
M: It’s not a fucking pearl. Your hand = not a fucking oyster. There is no good way to do this, is there.
E: Nope. Actually, you are so good at the hand moddlepose, that I would like to see you in alternative nail poses:
1. Stroking a pony. Or possibly an emu.
2. Doing Claude François style tiger claws.
3. Maybe raking your hands through something. Gravel.
M: Mmm, sensual gravel. But that would require me doing my nails again. Because this is chipping, after a couple of days. I blame the scourer.
E: Fie, Barry M. Fie, scourer. Nah, you could do the pictures with chipped varnish. It would be like a photoshoot for a hipster magazine.
M: Have you seen me? I am not a hipster.
E: Yes, but M, you can’t TELL that from your hands. Not when they are raking through gravel.
M: When I have smudged eyeliner, I look like a smelly racoon, not a rock star.
E: You are fiercer than the fiercest of hipsters. You could kick their scrawny asses all the way to Hoxton and back.
M: What is Hoxton?
E: A place in London full of scrawny twerps with ironic hair. They’re a nice bright colour, your nails. Shame you aren’t stroking a balding ostrich or squidging cooked spaghetti through your fingers, but hey.
M Yes. I do like it, and it’s cheap as chips.
E: So it’s cheap as chips but it chips?
M: Oh dear.
E: Sorry.
M: Slight problem is it makes me want to lick my nails. Because they look edible.
E: What kind of food do they look like?
M: I don’t know. Er, Rubies. Rubies are a food group, aren’t they?
E: Probably. You’re half French. You freaks eat anything.
M: Cherries. The blood of a suckling pig.
E: Those sweets that looked like lips and tasted of soap.
M: I refuse to eat those. What kind of a crazy fuck eats sugar lips?
E: They’re nicer than snail gel. So: Barry M nail polish. Cheap as chips and unsuitable for doing the dishes in.
Barry M Nail Paint in bright red, £2.95
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