Any self-respecting show-goers first destination upon arriving in New York for fashion week isnt her hotel or her favourite coffee spot. Its the nearest nail salon.
This isnt because theres anything intrinsically better about NY nail salonsits just that theyre such a pervasive part of the culture that it seems absurd not to treat yourself to a little luxury. Actually, luxury? Strike thatglossy nails are practically a NY prerequisite: its a point of pride to most New York women never to appear in public with chipped lacquer.
Every other block in the city is home to a colourfully named nail salon. A 10-minute walk from my front door could take me to options including Magic Fingers III, Pretty Angel Nails, New Cozy, Dashing Diva, Cindys Healing Hands you get the idea.
Some people swear by the modernity and spa-like feel of TenOverTen or Pinky, where the soundtrack consists of soothing tunes rather than conversational din. But remembering the should I, shouldnt I? days of £50 mani-pedis in London, its the cheapies that command my loyalty and devotion.
So it was that after landing in New York on Wednesday, with loads of dry cleaning and laundry and unpacking and invitation-sorting to manage before heading out to the J Brand presentation, I ignored it all and went straight to a local salon nails. For $35 and perfunctory conversation (short, square, very little cuticle cutting, thanks), I got an OPI GelColor manicure sure to take me through 50+ shows, and a pedicure that means I dont have to think twice if I go insane and contemplate wearing open-toed shoes. (PS: its snowing.)
I may not know what to wear to the shows tomorrow, but I know my nails wont let me down. Not too shabby for less than the cost of two London cocktails. Wouldnt you say?