I’m the biggest sucker for a good pedicure; it’s something that you can bribe and tempt me with anytime, anywhere. I love soaking my feet in a big bucket of hot soapy and salty water, and then looking at them gradually become pretty after a long while of scrubbing and filing and polishing and moisturizing and painting. Having someone else give a pedicure is probably a lot more satisfying, but at-home pedicures are a favourite Sunday ritual of mine.
While I’ve never been able to pinpoint my best physical feature, for years I have believed that my worst physical attribute is my feet. They’re not delicate and smooth, the way you would expect a female pair of feet to be. Instead they’re broad and rough, and the right foot has an unsightly scar from the only scooter accident I’ve ever had, at the age of 16.
I think I truly adore pedicures because the days immediately after getting one are the rare times that my feet look pretty, a phenomenon that sadly does not last very long. But those few days immediately after? They see a very happy feet-ed me, complete with toerings – my second most favourite accessory, but the least worn because of the aforementioned dislike towards feet.
I love experimenting with the colour of the nail paint I apply on my toenails, but over time I have come to the conclusion that nothing is happier than happy red toes with shiny new silver toerings!
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