Just because you're broke, it doesn't mean you need to look broke.
I'm going to be vulnerable with you for a second. I... am a nail biter. Yes yes, I know. Even the most beautiful little angels have problems (and here I thought the worst was being brunette). Believe me, I find the habit grotesque. But much like drinking alone or laughing at a child falling down, just because it's unsavory doesn't mean I won't do it.
Unfortunately, having busted nails is broke behavior. Now, broke behavior doesn't always mean being broke and vice versa; I'd say some of the richest people exhibit the brokest behavior (I'm looking at you, Elon). Conversely, some of the brokest people have the wealthiest auras (for example, paying for gas makes me cry but my god do I pull off a floor length robe). But as I was applying to unemployment benefits today on California's war crime of an EDD website, I looked down at my stubby chewed up nails and only had one thought:
When will the humiliation end?
Thankfully, there are fixes. You're welcome in advance.
1) Stop biting your fucking nails.
Easier said than done, but by far the simplest solution (like a breakup or a hip replacement). I personally bite them more absentmindedly rather than anxiously, but what is dissociation if not anxiety persevering?
There are all sorts of tricks you can do to curb the habit: bad tasting nail polish, putting spice on your nails, having your life partner spray you with vinegar (I am not responsible for the crotch goblins you conceive post-vinegar). I personally find the best fix to be diversion: putting something else on your nails. Which leads me to:
2) Getting your nails done.
I'm not talking about a single layer of 99 cent Wet N' Wild nail polish. I mean getting your nails done-done: getting acrylics or SNS or a phalange BBL or whatever else the baddies are doing these days. You want Thick Shit on your nails, the kind your weird little teeth can't sink into. There are all sorts of options out there now, Gel X and dip tips and whatever else will absolutely shred your nail beds. You can get them done at the salon (rich) or do it yourself at home (rich- DIY version).
You want them thick enough to get a satisfying click-click-clack when you're marking your income as zero on government forms because you chose to be a "writer." Oh what's that, you can't afford getting your nails done even though you wrote on a show seen by millions? Might I introduce you to...
3) Press on nails that don't look like shit.
I know what you're thinking. "Press on nails? What am I, a thick Latina?" I'm telling you, there are some good ones out there that don't look like mini plastic visor hats for your fingies, and they're reusable if you're careful with them (which is easy to do since you're not typing because there are no jobs out there). They're all over the place on Etsy, farmers markets, or from your cousin's friend from high school who thinks it's cool you work in TV and you don't know how to tell the child that dream jobs disappoint you and capitalism is a scourge on society and she's better off putting glitter on a fake pinky nail than putting all her eggs in the "maybe I'll sell something original" basket. She ain't writing no Succession!
Plus, you can often get your sizes customized.
4) Eat right.
Aside from the never-ending flow of anxious energy, bad nails can also be a sign of poor nutrition and/or vitamin deficiency. You've gotta fuel your body; believe me, I was just as shocked as anyone when I found out that chardonnay and Sour Patch Kids might be fruit's cousins but won't entirely cure scurvy. It's a dog eat dog world out there, and this bitch has got to eat her veggies. Maybe now I'll be glamour. When all else fails:
5) Wear nice gloves.
Silk. Leather. Lace. All different fabrics of thongs I've had to throw away at Griffith Park, and all make for beautiful pairs of gloves. When your nails are fucked and your energy is at zero, have a nice pair of luxurious gloves on standby to throw on and make your apocalyptic click-clacking a little more luxe.
Doesn't having beautiful hands make writing down your sad little life that much more delicious? Tell me, does it? I couldn't tell you, my nails are absolutely fucked right now.
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