Spring varnish

I has considered the title "Nailing Spring" or "Spring? Nailed, it!" (just game up with that there) but I was too ashamed to taint that poor innocent title box with such sub-par wit!

Anyhoo, on a more lighthearted note, nail varnish. Whoever it was who thought "let's paint these post-evolution claws we've got here" was definitely drinking their smart juice that day! It's too much fun. I've always had a few bottle of nail varnish in various colours when I was younger - I can trace my first clear memory back to a Sale-of-Work in school.

I'll set the scene.

I couldn't have been more than 9 or 10. A sale-of-work had been planned in school (primary school, the building to this day still smells like milk) but Irish weather, not wanting to act out of character, thought it would be better if it rained that day. So the event which usually took place along the edges of the bigger playground, yard as we called it (god, we had some odd words for things) was organised in the ground-floor classrooms of the senior block.

I remember it being really dark outside - like thundery dark. I can remember shadowy tables, buying bracelets with my friend make out of coloured wool; they were friendship bracelets as far as we were concerned! At one point we approached a table where a girl was offering nail painting as her trade. I distinctly remember picking a clear varnish with multicoloured glitter as my choice - I can still picture it on one of my fingernails; pink, red and gold glitter ... and maybe some blue, or silver. Honestly the memory is so hazy I can't remember much more. I think the girl herself had long, straight hair. I loved it. The colours especially; all of them, captured in the clear varnish. All the glitter the same size, equally balanced. Perfect. In my eyes.

I later searched the Poundshop in the Square in Tallaght for it - in fact to this day I haven't found it. I'm not constantly looking for it - I had a pang of nostalgia when I saw a picture of the Opi Nail Lacquer in Rainbow Connection from the Muppets Collection; that was the closest I've ever seen - yet still not quite there.

Over the years I collected my fair share of pearly lilacs, a horridly glamourous thick dark green and gold glitter concoction. A trio set of silver, magenta and electric blue all with thick silver glitter - just thinking back on them know is bringing the memories and the images flooding back. Somewhere along the line they've all dried out, been lost, used up - I had three tiny bottles from a toy set of some sort, a clear purple one went on as the most useless topcoat that could be obsessively peeled off afterwards. Then all I wore was black, then branched into reds and now my little box is over flowing and shows no signs of stopping. Trawling through fashion blogs and magazines is not helping the obsession. Oh how I hate that Pay Day is still a week away ...

Well, my ramblings are nothing without pictures. Cracked nailvarnish like Barry M's Graffiti nails was big  for all of a month a while back - now that the word is out any and every brand are doing their own versions and branching into an array colours. Frankly I'm not completely sold on cracked polish is washy pastels but while in Penneys I did grab a trio of own-brand nail varnishes on my way to the till. A dark blue base-coat, silver crackle and a top coat. For €4, I thought it was worth a try. I was wrong - I HATED it. The silver came out mostly chalkly white, no sparkle - but I had to leave it and go out anyway! A friend of mine remarked they looked like denim - which, considering she didn't know how it was supposed to look, she thought looked cool.

The next day I learned my sister had used them while I was out - her results were much better than mine -

I let mine chip away for a while before swapping them for some seasonal pastels I'm much happier with :) The blue is Models Own in Blooboo, it's really lovely colour and the coverage is nice and solid once you give it two good coats. The green is from Urban Outfitters W.I.P in Peppermint - quite thin going on but builds up and lasts really well. And the yellow is Lemoncello (love the name) from Angelica (I know, I know - I swore off buying nail varnish in Penneys, but this time it'll be different - right?)

I'll be quiet now. Loves.

"...until everything was rainbow, rainbow,rainbow!" - The Fish, Elizabeth Bishop

Everything and Nothing

Self Portrait No. 7 (Final year college project 2011)

I was 15 when I got my new room (our new room, shared with my sister) and I could choose the colours. Now it's a disaster - who asked a 15 year-old to pick colours for her room? She wore super-wide flares, baggy tshirts and listened to System of a Down. It's royal purple - which is fine. But it's also royal blue and sparkly purple - and it's tiny. It doesn't take a genius to realise that dark colours in a small room are by far one of the worst idea anyone could have (besides wearing leggings with a short top - that's just hidious)

My room now a haunting memory of everything I haven't achieved. I come home to it to be reminded I'm not some metropolitan, independent butterfly; it's disorganised, undefined - completely undecided as to what it's trying to be so trying to be everything. Everything and nothing.

The stairs, four walls and ceiling of my attic room encapsulate every insecurity I've managed to lock away, locked up in a tower. I emerge having pulled myself together and closing the door behind me so no can see in. No-one gets in, hardly anybody has seen inside. Frankly, I'm embarrassed by it. It's just a wardrobe with a bed in it. That, and piles and piles of sentimentality.

Scary grown-up things seemed slightly easier knowing I was still going back to curl up and hide in the same place I have for the passed 7 years (great, now I feel old). There's some sick reassurance in that. Feeling like I shouldn't feel relieved to be there, but I can't help it. The last thing I have to change to really pull myself out of the rut I was run into is my room. I know all too well nothing has really changed until it's gone - until it's different. Not until it feels like my room, as opposed to somewhere I'm used to going...

... can't I just paint it grey?

Contrasting Colours

After much reflection I think there was a definite subtext to my day today; that being colours. What's entertaining is that my laptop is set to English (USA)-speak, so it thinks the word "colour" should be spelled "color". Philistine.

There have been a few colours as of late I have been attracted to. Brown - embodied by the fact I bought 110euro brown leather boots (availed of the student discount though, so only paid 93) and grey - 50% to be exact. The photographer in me loves it. It makes colours pop - it's the only background to accurately view colours too - it's why I love overcast days so much, that's the colour of the sky. The sky was 50% grey today, and it's well and truly Spring - almost Summer. As a result, everything was green. Everything. The leaves on the trees, the grass, the mountains. My 35mm and I went to the park. Photos to follow - I would think it to be pointless to try to describe such a visually appealing day without photos. So more about the green, green Earth in later scribblings.

In contrast to the wonderful green of today; we also have its opposite colour. As both Art and Physics tell us; the opposite to green is red. But to say they are "opposite" colours is juvenile; on the contrary they are "complimentary" colours. A term far more endearing. I'd like to think of them as codependent rather than at-odds. So what was red, I hear you ask? Well, I don't literally - that's just a narrative technique to move my ramblings along. Well I've dyed my hair red. Chestnut, to be pedantic about it. I've been blonde for 21+ years, and encountered enough assumptions of "dimwitted-ness" or "ditzy-ness" for the time being. Nothing drastic, or permanent; but after trying a wash-in-wash-out deal, I figured I'd go in for the whole haul, as they say. The 20+ washes haul. I've had the underside of my hair coloured, but this is the first time I've done a whole head of colour.

Reactions are as follows:

11.45PM - Hair is wet. Can tell it's darker so far, but it's firmly wrapped in a towel.

12.00AM - Run towel briefly over hair - there's a definite red hue to the shine I can see so far. So I'm sure to have secured a tone that should match my colouring. I've referred to blonde, ginger, copper and auburn hair as being "on the Gaelic end of the hair-colour spectrum".

12.30AM - Hair is drying out. Yep, it's red. Not firey or striking, but rather subtly distinctive - if such a thing could exist. I do recall the colour of the "conkers" collected from under the trees in Autumns of years ago - so I guess the box was correct. The fact my hair is so fair probably means I picked up a lot of the red tones. When does anything turn out like the picture on the box? There's a philosophical question for you ...

Why did I start a blog? I think to much, simply put. And in a rather digressive way. As my Dissertation proved, no matter how much I write (7,862 words) I'll still want to say more. Confirmation of this, as well as the resultant photographs of todays outings, to follow.

12.40AM - How will it look if I arrive to work with curly, deep-red hair?