Nail-ing it
Written By : Hannah Corbett
For the past two years, my nails have been… naked. Not in a chic, minimalist way, but in the “clear polish if I’m lucky” kind of way. Up until last Friday, I hadn’t stepped foot in a nail salon in what feels like forever.
This wasn’t always the case. I once went through a phase of getting my nails done religiously every two to three weeks. A nail chipped? Off to the salon. The season changed? Time for a fresh set. At 22, I was suddenly spending nearly $100 a month just to keep up. At first, it felt like self-care. But then it became a cycle: AirPods in, podcast on, sulking in the chair while someone buffed away at my overgrown cuticles. I’d leave looking more polished, sure—but the whole thing stopped feeling indulgent. It started feeling like a chore.
So I quit.
I swapped in press-ons and glue-ons, which I took pride in perfecting. I’d spend 45 minutes cutting, filing, and shaping them like a mini project. For a while, it worked. Until, of course, it didn’t. The glue annoyed me, they’d pop off in public, and because I never saved the extras (or the emergency glue stick), I’d end up walking around with nine nails instead of ten. Eventually, I gave up completely. Naked nails for holidays. Naked nails for birthdays. Naked nails even for my two-week trip to Greece. My kit was reduced to a nail file and a bottle of clear polish—and honestly, the simplicity was liberating.
And then came last Friday.
I don’t know what possessed me, but I walked into a brand-new salon and asked for dip powder in a deep, merlot-maroon shade. This time, I didn’t bring my AirPods. I didn’t distract myself with a podcast. Instead, I chatted with the manicurist about life and nail polish, with 2000s throwbacks playing in the background. For the first time in a long time, it actually felt fun.
And now I’m worried: I might be back in the cycle.
Even as I type this, I keep pausing to admire my nails. They’re glossy, rich, perfectly shaped—nailing it, if you will. They make me feel put together in a way I haven’t felt in years, like I don’t even need to try as hard with the rest of my appearance because my nails are pulling their weight. My boyfriend even noticed: “Wow, I kind of miss when you got your nails done. They’re really catching my eye.” To which I replied, “1. Wow. 2. So… you’ll pay for them then?”
But the truth is, it reminded me of something I once read about doing little things that make you feel sexy. Not sexy in the obvious way—I’m literally in pajamas with messy hair as I write this—but sexy in the sense of feeling confident, magnetic, and slightly elevated in your everyday life. A manicure isn’t life-changing, but it is a subtle reminder that small rituals can shift how you move through the world.
So, here’s to being back in the cycle—and enjoying it this time.