I will be nailing it!
Oct. 14th, 2011 08:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
susandennisMy immediate family was nearly bigger than my extended family. All my friends had tons of aunts and uncles and cousins. I had one of each and they lived a half a country away. So while we did not see them frequently, nearly every visit is engraved in my brain - mainly because of my Aunt Kay.
Aunt Kay was a true product of rural Oklahoma. While her brother (my Dad) had worked hard to successfully cleanse himself of anything that was not tasteful, sophisticated and classy, his sister had no such pretensions. She'd have been the queen of the trailer park if they had lived in one but trailer houses were way too fancy and modern.
As a little girl I was beyond fascinated by Aunt Kay. She was loud and brash and so much fun. Her only child was a boy so she would get her hands on me and my sister and there was no stopping her. We got home permanents (my mother nearly had a coronary) and ruffles and even a little (don't you dare tell your mother) rouge.
But the piece de resistance for me about Aunt Kay was her fingernails. They were long and shaped and painted always. She maintained them with the same constant care and dedication a bonsai master gives his tiny garden. I could watch her for hours. All her tools and her paints. She often used two different colors in layers to get the right effect. Two different colors - it was genius. She was brilliant. And, this was the real kicker, she used frosted nail polish!!!
("Only majorettes wear frosted nail polish outside of the house!", For some reason my mother thought majorettes were right up there with 2-bit hookers. A lot of my what-not-to-do-lessons were drawn from majorette examples and I never ever got a clue as to why. I don't think I ever knew a majorette personally but from what I could see they did not look that slutty to me.)
Anyway, in my book if Aunt Kay did it, then it was fine no matter what my Mother said. And to this day, I have a soft spot for frosted nail polish. And I may just get some today...
This trip down memory lane is brought to you by today's manicure. My neighbor, Ann, loves to get a pedicure. I hate anyone messing with my feet for any reason but I love a good manicure now and then so I suggested next time she goes, I could go with and get my hands done while she is feeted. And today's the day. My cuticles are a mess of hangnails so I am looking forward to someone fixing those and getting all the nails in a nice even shape and then I'm going to pick an outlandish color in memory of my Aunt Kay.
Aunt Kay was a true product of rural Oklahoma. While her brother (my Dad) had worked hard to successfully cleanse himself of anything that was not tasteful, sophisticated and classy, his sister had no such pretensions. She'd have been the queen of the trailer park if they had lived in one but trailer houses were way too fancy and modern.
As a little girl I was beyond fascinated by Aunt Kay. She was loud and brash and so much fun. Her only child was a boy so she would get her hands on me and my sister and there was no stopping her. We got home permanents (my mother nearly had a coronary) and ruffles and even a little (don't you dare tell your mother) rouge.
But the piece de resistance for me about Aunt Kay was her fingernails. They were long and shaped and painted always. She maintained them with the same constant care and dedication a bonsai master gives his tiny garden. I could watch her for hours. All her tools and her paints. She often used two different colors in layers to get the right effect. Two different colors - it was genius. She was brilliant. And, this was the real kicker, she used frosted nail polish!!!
("Only majorettes wear frosted nail polish outside of the house!", For some reason my mother thought majorettes were right up there with 2-bit hookers. A lot of my what-not-to-do-lessons were drawn from majorette examples and I never ever got a clue as to why. I don't think I ever knew a majorette personally but from what I could see they did not look that slutty to me.)
Anyway, in my book if Aunt Kay did it, then it was fine no matter what my Mother said. And to this day, I have a soft spot for frosted nail polish. And I may just get some today...
This trip down memory lane is brought to you by today's manicure. My neighbor, Ann, loves to get a pedicure. I hate anyone messing with my feet for any reason but I love a good manicure now and then so I suggested next time she goes, I could go with and get my hands done while she is feeted. And today's the day. My cuticles are a mess of hangnails so I am looking forward to someone fixing those and getting all the nails in a nice even shape and then I'm going to pick an outlandish color in memory of my Aunt Kay.
