Dear (Toe)Nail Polish

Dear (Toe)Nail Polish,

First off, I would like to point out that the photo I'm attaching to this letter shows a girl's foot. Of course. That's what one would expect when talking about you, right?

Well - maybe that's wrong.

You see, for a long time, I wasn't so down with you. I had no problem with you appearing on the feet of the ladies (because we all know the CRAZY things ladies will do in the name of "cute" or "pretty"), but I just wasn't so sure about you in terms of the men-folk.

This first became something that I thought about at all when my brother (aka my Loyal Reader) showed up to some family get-together years ago with you on his toes. It got some great reactions from the extended family, but I just wasn't so down. I'm not so old-fashioned as to worry about it in terms of a man's sexuality, of course, but I just thought it was a bit much. Those who know me would never consider me to be the most fashionable or flamboyant of dressers, so it seemed to go even further to be dressing up the feet themselves.

And that's why I was a little tentative when we had a little you party while on the river this last week. I would have to think that it all started out with my brother and the ladies' interest in his well-polished toenails, but soon all the kids and young adults (somehow the parents avoided this particular party) were gathered around painting each other's toenails. I took the opportunity to paint some faces, as well, but that's a letter for another day.

Anyhoo, because I was so busy with the faces, I somehow avoided the first wave of you-ing, and I was okay with that. I figured that I just wouldn't do it, and that would be perfectly A-OK with me. But then post-dinner rolled around, and I was asked about my painfully plain toes. Next thing I know, a small child was at my feet with gold and sparkly-blue you and a toothpick.

If I was to do it over again, I might have done some experimenting with the toothpick and designed my own impressionist painting for my toes. But I didn't. Instead, I let Torry (the young lady) do her thing, and I ended up with gold toes with shiny blue stripes on my right foot and shiny blue toes with gold stripes on my left.

And you know what? I love it. A very sudden change, I know, but real nonetheless.

Why (and how) did this happen? Well, let's take a few steps back and look at some facts before explaining:

FACT ONE: Toes are ugly. ToeNAILS are even worse. They get yellow and cracked and misshapen. Especially when I refuse to wear any sort of close-toed shoes in the summertime. And so I have to do some relatively involved foot-care (with some clippers - and more, sometimes) to keep them from making people throw up when they see my feet (which they will pretty much do every day during the summer).

FACT TWO: Cool shoes are cool. Really cool. Shoes that match outfits in color-scheme are a pleasure to behold. There are a ton of really cool sneakers out there, and a lot of my kids at school have them. Matching shoes are a brilliant indication of a good sense of style, and I have learned to really appreciate that in my time working with the kids I do (and dealing with them constantly giving me sh- for my ugly shoes . . . or complimenting me on the one pair of cool shoes I own).

FACT THREE: If it's shiny, it's wonderful. Not a whole lot more to say here. Shiny things are better than non-shiny things. This is a fact I've always been aware of and adhered to, and it has never let me down.

So if we take these three scientific facts into hand and then re-examine my sudden appreciation for you, it makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? 1) You cover up the disgusting-ness known as toenails. You make LESS work for me because the colour keeps the toenail flaws from being apparent - thus, less vomiting by people that see my feet. 2) If cool SHOES are cool (especially COLOURFUL shoes), then why not go with some colourful FEET when shoes aren't an option (because they just aren't for me in the summer)? They don't exactly match my outfits, but neither did my vomit-toes. 3) My toes are now shiny. I have seriously caught myself just sitting around and wiggling my toes to see the light shine off them in different ways. Because they're shiny. And shiny is pretty.

And that's that. Nothing more to say. It turns out that I quite enjoy you, (Toe)Nail Polish. You may just become a regular occurrence for me in the summertime. Although, of course, next time around I'm going to have to spend some time putting a Monet on my toes . . . or something even cooler.

Thank you for opening my mind just a little bit more and letting me have some constant shiny going on.

Toes-a-Twinkling,
CVT

*And let's be honest, half the reason I didn't like you was because my brother did it, and I am finally old enough not to make my decisions based on NOT being like him . . . (sorry, Brother).

**And a note referring to a letter from the past (Dear Hairline): last night I had a nightmare where I woke up to find that a chunk of hair in the middle and back of my head had just fallen out in some spontaneous male-pattern baldness, and there was nothing to do. I almost cried. And when I woke up, I almost cried again when I felt my hair.