Birthdays

A and I are lucky enough to have birthdays but one day apart so this is a big week for us. I had very few wishes for my birthday this year and I got all of them: a lovely party with my friends, an Iitala wibbly glass vase and flowers to put in it and a couple of hilarious-sounding books:

This has turned out to be a gem. Written in 1936, Marjorie Hills takes a stern look at the lives of women of all ages who find themselves living alone (it seems to have been relatively easy to find a studio flat in 1930s New York, lucky ladies). She has no truck with feeling sorry for yourself and sets a lot of store by bedjackets. As I type, a maid is bringing me my nightcap while I recline in a quilted bedjacket. Where can I get one or, indeed, an affordable maid?

I did follow Marjorie’s instructions to some extent this weekend by being taken off for a pedicure at the London Bliss Spa on Sloane Avenue. I went with a new colour, “Not Just a Pretty Face” and sadly it makes me look a  bit dead, but it’s satisfying that at least one bit of me is being well taken-care-of. Tomorrow I am off for the best meal of the day, brunch, which calls for taking care of the whole package in case I sit next to a celebrity, which happened once at my local place (it was a Strictly dancer, so I didn’t throw myself across the table at him or anything. Fingers crossed for Keira Knightley or Adele or something next time).

My two imperceptibly different nail colours. I think the second one is my usual colour, BBF Best Boy Friend. Next time I go I will be ringing the changes and getting Movers and Shakers. You will be able to pick this one out of the lineup below I imagine.

Happy birthday us.

S

 

Blue and red nails

I’ve recently started getting into nail varnish again in a major way, probably for the first time since I started buying makeup. Nail varnish is probably the earliest makeup thing you can get away with as a teenager, both in terms of not looking like total hot mess maquillage overkill, and in terms of persuading your parents you should be allowed it. My first nail varnish was a coral one from Mavala that my grandma bought me, before any official sanction from my parents. I really wish I still had it as it was a rite of passage and also, I now realise, a hilarious moment of subterfuge by my grandmother against my mother.

I’m quite good at painting neatly so I thought I’d try a twist on a French manicure. I love navy and red together so this was my first effort in anything interesting nails-wise. The red didn’t come out bright the way I expected but I quite like the way it tones with the blue. They’re both Nails Inc.

P.s. photographing your own hand is a bit like saying your name over and over until it stops sounding right.

S