When it comes to self-care, a regular mani-pedi is a necessary indulgence

Seems like every other article or podcast today is focused on self-care. I get it. If we do not take care of ourselves, we are also likely not taking care of our family and friends. I have a myriad of self-care practices, but getting a manicure and pedicure is in my top ten.

Back in the day, we nurses were required to wear white: White dresses, hose, shoes, and a ridiculous little white cap perched awkwardly on our heads. I was just starting my career and thought I could break the monotone and jazz up my look.

Because being a fashionista is in my DNA, (thanks, Mom) I thought getting my nails polished was a good fix. I booked a manicure at what seemed to be the sole nail salon on the North Shore of Staten Island. I chose the color “Pretty Pink.” I wasn’t yet brave enough to bare my tootsies for a pedicure.

During my next rotation at the clinic, I was called into the nursing supervisor’s office. I was more than a little anxious; I mean, really, I was a neophyte. As far as I knew, I crossed every T and dotted every I.

Timidly, I knocked on the door with a plaque that read NURSING SUPERVISOR in big brass letters. Miss L sat behind an impressive desk and motioned for me to sit down. She looked intensely at me for a long moment. She asked: “Do you know why you are here?”

“No.”

Miss L said: “Look at your nails, they are pink!”

Naively I answered, “Yes! I had them done yesterday.”

Miss L launched into a long diatribe of how nurses should look and conduct themselves.

I sat silently and passively received her criticism.

Inside I was trying to hold it together. My emotions were in flux. HIV/AIDS was just rearing its head—and without the knowledge we have today, medical personnel were frightened. We began to glove up on a regular basis.

I wondered: What’s up with this lady? We have a crisis on our hands, and she is worried about nail polish? What did a pink manicure have to do with my nursing skills? However, I dared not ask.

Fast-forward five years.

Miss L retired — much to the relief of many. A more liberal supervisor was appointed. She nixed the caps and allowed pink or clear nail polish. Yup, I knew it. Wearing pink nail polish was not a fall from grace! I began getting manicures, and yes, pedicures on a regular basis.

A couple of years later, I was promoted to an administrative position and was able to abandon the uniform and indulged in vivid nail polish — all except red. Mom was of the persuasion that red polish was tacky.

Nowadays, nail salons are plentiful, as well as the clientele. One is never too young; or never too old to be pampered. Men have joined the trend and indulge in mani – pedis — and good for them. It takes guts to walk into a nail salon primarily filled with women.

I consider my nail salon a phone-free zone. Sometimes I just space out. When I allow my brain to go into slow-mo, it recharges. Many times, I have let the nail technician pick out my color. I know, I know. Some of you would never do this. After all, picking the right color is part of the fun or can result in fury.

Getting a manicure can seem frivolous, but for some, It can be serious business. The aforementioned picking the correct nail color is paramount. Some ladies will try on different colors ad nauseum, while the nail technician indulges them graciously with a smile..

I occasionally make a wrong color choice. What looks good in the short run can change quickly after a week or two. But in truth, there is an end date: Nails chip or break. Some polishes start to peel and we help, right? It is not the end of the world. We do not have to endure turquoise sparkle nails for the rest of our lives.

Some patrons of nail salons do not consider it to be a cell-free zone. Because their hands are occupied, they set their phone on speaker. I have heard, as well as the rest of the patrons , the most personal and titillating conversations. I wonder: Does the person on the other end know that their sometimes spotty wash is being hung out to dry in public?

Sometimes a patron is unhappy with the shape of her nails. I have listened with disgust to a customer berating the technician. The degree of rudeness shown is mind-boggling—especially since the technician is sitting at her feet giving her a pedicure.

But wait: Although rudeness and brashness occur, most of the patrons are lovely. Here’s an amusing observation: I have \not heard a man become rude to the technician.

Most ladies who gets a mani-pedi regularly consider it a short escape. It reminds us to prioritize our happiness. Having nice-looking nails perk us up even in stressful times. It may sound superficial, but since when is self-care superficial?

Nowadays, I choose flamboyant colors—and why not? Sometimes we gotta color out of the line. Ralph Waldo Emerson writes: ”Beauty without expression is boring.” And my friends, we are never boring, or shouldn’t be.