Formula X for an Xceptional Manicure
“My nails look like shit,” I thought as I threw a pile of underwear into my suitcase and zipped it closed. My nails were bad, like all you want to do is hide them in your pockets bad. Worse, I didn’t have time to run to the salon let alone paint them myself. I was getting on a plane to New York in less than an hour and per usual, I was running late. I rushed into my bathroom and flung open the cabinet, scrambling to pull out a few polishes to take with me, I figured I’d find time to paint them, eventually. Knocking over bottles of half used hand creams and glitter nail polishes you need a jackhammer to remove, I scrambled to take off my chipped polish.
My phone rang, and I knew it was my friend who was graciously giving me a ride to the airport. She no doubt was waiting outside my apartment, the car still running, blasting the radio. I answered the phone, the smell of acetone stinging the inside of my nose and still riffling through the cabinet. “I’m out the door!” I lied on the phone, as I reached to the back of the cabinet and plucked out the still packaged Formula X, The System To Go nail polish my sister had given me. I remember her saying something about how it had saved her on her business trips. Shaking hands with potential clients with a chipped mani was a big no-no. I was sure that the same rules applied to the AMFMA Surf Ball. I threw the system into my purse and flew out the door with my bags.
Needless to say, I just barely made it to my gate on time. I was that girl, her carryon bumping and snagging at the seats down the isle. My bare nails out for the world to see. After stuffing my bag into the last available overhead space that was ten rows away, I squeezed past the other two passengers and settled into the window seat. The lady next to me gave a sideways glance, and I couldn’t help but feel she was glaring at my undone nails. There is something to say about not feeling put together and sloppy when your manicure is in shambles.
Yet on a long flight, you have some time to kill, and miss glary glare was practically snoring by take off, so I did what any gal would do, I painted my nails. I pulled out the Formula X polishes, which were all conveniently packaged together into one seamless system that fit into the palm of my hand. No loose bottles of cleanser, basecoat, color, or topcoat freely rolling around in my bag. By the way, whoever names nail polishes has literally, the best job in the world. Pyrotechnic! Now that is a name for red nail polish.
Anyway, this system worked like a dream. Gals, I’m telling you, these polishes dried extremely fast. I mean, you could say XTREMELY fast, faster than you could say Formula X. Not even a bump of turbulence could hinder the absolutely spotless and shiny wonder that became of my nails. I had walked onto the plane with sad sorry plain-Jane fingernails and strutted off with a boost of confidence from the best shinning bright red mani I have ever had. That lady next to me even began to treat me with the respect that my perfectly polished manicure demanded. I felt badass and powerful.
You’ll all be happy to know that my nails rocked it throughout the whole event. I couldn’t help but stare at my hands as I clapped after for Global Citizen, picked up my fork during dinner, or threw up my hands at the Lolawolf performance. Oh and the color and the shine on these puppies lasted long after the Surf Ball. Even when I missed my flight home, my manicure was keeping it cool. So some things never change. While I’ll probably forever be a last minute-er, at least Formula X will be in my arsenal from now on, rewarding my bad time management with a manicure that I could only dream of before.