Real Men Knit
In other news, the MANicure that I got last week for Knitty Gritty seems to be holding up well. Now, I had never had a manicure before. Pedicures, sure. Doesn’t everyone paint their toenails before doing marathons or Ironmans? Well, I used to. However, my handful (poor word choice?) of professional pedicures never reached the transformative nirvana that many friends raved about.
I had always dismissed manicures as something for over-primped metro- and homo-sexuals, television shopping hosts or close-up magicians with a spare Alexander Hamilton in their wallet. I don’t get off on the “luxury” of having someone attend to basic needs that I can do myself, namely clipping my nails and using hand lotion. Haircuts require the skill of someone else—unless I’m shaving the whole thing off. I’ve been able to trim my own nails since I was a wee lad. Besides, I have pretty soft hands (never done a day of hard work in my life </sarcasm> other than that year at Dunkin Donuts in high school–if you’re searching for a holiday gift for me, get me this in a M). But if KG wanted it, just like Amy and Stephanie, I’ll do it.
Un-smurfing-believable! I feel like I have new hands. New nerve endings on my fingertips. New nails, even! They convinced me to allow some polish to be put on, too. I’m no fan of clear, shiny sh!t on guys… I’d rather a nice gun metal gray or Bakelite orange-brown. But, they had a matte-finish “mens” polish that dried nicely. I still felt butch (as much as that’s possible). The whole process affected me so much that I dreamt about my hands that night!
Now, a week later, my only complaint is the matte has turned a little glossy. I don’t know if it’s from my obsessive moisturizing in hopes of preserving that feeling or a fact of how it ages. Perhaps I’ll take it off with some polish remover if I see any chipping or excessive shine. While I’m not going to run out every month and get my nails “did,” I’m a convert. Manicures ain’t that bad. I could swing one once a year…