The Lacquer of Life

Again back here. This blogging thing is becoming a ritual now. I feel loads better, maybe some magic is working. Or the lacquer is doing its tricks. Lack of lacquer (now that sounds like it was going to be a tongue-twister, unintentionally), that's a bad sign. Even if everything's going zilch, my nails will always be lacquered up - to perfection. A reason why I hate badly chipped or smudged nail polish on anyone, no matter how expertly dolled-up any woman is, bad nail polish talks volumes. Better go au naturel, than au chips and flakes. The 'having had no time to do it up' is no excuse. Se mai, remove it with one swipe and stick with what God gave you. Fair enough, nobody expets women to have my extensive nail polish collection (ture, it must amount to near a thousand), but any colour, put on properly will immediately tranform hands, and the rest of you to cover girl material. Try OPI, or Orly - they're the best.

It's the same with make up. How many women will wear million-dollar clothes, then have their face in contrasting colour to their neck? Or badly streaked eye liner? Tut tut, that's hideous. But you see it all the time. And the same goes for make up, it either goes on perfectly, or go with your birthday suit, you'll never go wrong that way.

I've just gven my own nails the second coat of Orly's Flagstone Rush, a lovely blend of bronze, copper and gold, perfect for Summer. Of course I will never run out of my reds collection..... I've enough till I pass over!
AnnMarie