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Long nails, a.k.a. “stiletto” nails, are wildly popular. From Adele and Rihanna to the waitress at the local diner, long and pointed tips are popping up everywhere. Me? Sorry, I’m not a fan. In fact, I can’t deal with long nails. Not on me. Not on anyone.
Sure, back in the day and to some extent even these days, wearers of long nails are thought to ooze with femininity. Long nails declare that we’re successful and a bit of a vixen, in control of everything from our careers to our bedroom desires. With long nails, we’re bombshells. Long nails say we’re fun and flirtatious ladies because, you know, nothing says “come-hither” like a wink and a glimpse of our Edward Scissorhands.
Why I Can’t Deal with Long, Pointed Nails
See, I’m a “let’s get to it” lady. All the fuss of filing, especially to a point, gets in the way of the things I want to do . . . now. Not 10 minutes after I file my nails, but in the moment and without worry: trying on new shoes, peeling back a yogurt lid, rifling through my purse or tugging at the fitted sheets when making the bed.
So I suppose my real issue is one of convenience. Nails that barely crest my fingertip are more than plenty for me. They’re long enough to look nice or to help me satisfy an unexpected itch, but short enough that I don’t impale my best friend.
Especially as a writer, daggers make me feel as though my writing process is actually slowed down, holding me back from my ideas. At my laptop, long nails distance me from my thoughts, a gap between my fingers and the words I type. Long pinkie nails often strike a wrong letter, their length having a mind of their own. My nails are writing, not me. There are too many “backspace” hits to correct my nails’ unpredictable keyboard behaviors. It’s annoying. To get back on track, I break out the clippers.
Some people re-charge with a smoothie or brisk outdoor walk, but getting rid of too-long nails works, too.