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• November, 2008 (7)
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• September, 2008 (6)

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• Blueprint of a First Year
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• About Maggie
  

It’s true. I’m shy. Not just shy, mind you, but pretty much terrified of social interaction. I compensate with narcissism. I don’t know why my clients put up with me.

Today I accompanied my mother to a doctor’s appointment in nearby Selma, Calif. — a small town about half an hour north of us that claims its fame as “the raisin capital of the world.”

Shortly after mom was called in to see the doctor, his nurse returned to the waiting room to inform me that Mom said I could go get coffee or something because, as it turned out, she was going to be a while. So I shrugged and took a drive back to the downtown area.

Aside from the raisin thing, Selma has existed as pretty much just that pit stop on Highway 99 between Visalia and Fresno for, well, pretty much all my life. I’ve never had the occasion to casually tour the town for any reason — until today.

I parked in the downtown area and walked over to Heavenly Grounds for a cup of coffee where I was warmly greeted by three elderly gentlemen who seemed to be just hanging out, talking baseball. The lady at the counter also greeted me warmly and gladly made me a Frappuccino-like concoction called an “Avalanche” when I asked for something unique to her business.

The gentlemen were quite disappointed that I wasn’t going to be joining them for their conversation, but I bid them adieu and proceeded to wander the downtown.

I walked around the block and passed by no less than five salons, two of which had sandwich board signs on the sidewalk offering special prices for a full set of nails and assuring the passerby that walk-ins were welcome.

I don’t really like having other people do my nails — it’s the primary reason I landed in the biz myself — but I desperately wanted to stop in and talk shop. But I didn’t. Too self-conscious. I’m not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination and I’d had to be out of bed by 7:30 this morning in order to get Mom to her appointment on time. I wasn’t dressed my best — for that matter, I’m almost never dressed well enough to feel up to scrutiny by my peers. Since I caught my finger in the front door, I have managed to get the product off of that nail and now it looks disgusting as everyone at the salon continues to debate whether or not I’ll lose the nail entirely. The remaining four nails that were done are now hacked off and in a state of partial preparation for total removal. The left hand is still naked, and not well-manicured at that.

And what am I going to say? “Hi, my name is Maggie. I do nails in Visalia. Perhaps you’ve seen me on the Internet?" <flash cheesy grin> How would that go over if I happened into your workday?

No. I’ll just keep walking.

For the record, if you ever find yourself in the neighborhood when I’m in the salon, come on in and chat! I love meeting other nail techs and talking nails. And, for the girls at “Shop Talk” in Selma, Calif., who were wondering who the strange lady who kept peering inside the shop like a stray puppy was: Your salon is very inviting, with the cute graphics on the windows, fun name, door open on a beautiful day, and everyone inside laughing while they work. Just the kind of place that makes me want to come in and say “hi.”

I don’t get it. The whole concept of a non-compete contract.

OK, I mean, I get the concept. I guess I don’t get why a salon owner would lack the confidence in her business to make her feel she needed one. Not to mention how insulting it is to clients.

What does it matter if your competition opens up across town or next door? There’s nothing to keep another salon from being opened next door by someone who didn’t used to work for you.

Not to mention they rarely stand up in court anyway.

And, really, you think you own your customers? I thought we stopped owning people back when Abraham Lincoln was still president?

Look, if you are running the type of salon that encourages its technicians to cultivate a relationship with their clients, then those clients should be expected to follow that tech if she leaves — and those clients deserve the courtesy of being informed that their preferred tech is going to leave, or that the tech has left. I also think it’s polite to give the tech’s new location and contact information if the former salon knows it. Of course, it’s perfectly acceptable to follow that information with a sincere, “Of course, we would be delighted to have you stay at XYZ Salon. We could book your next service with (new tech) who is now filling in for (former tech).”

But if you tell the clients that someone has left the salon and they ask you for the new contact info and you just say, “I’m sorry, we don’t have that information,” you can bet the client thinks you’re lying.

Remember that scene in “Miracle on 34th Street”? When Kris Kringle tells a Macy’s customer that Gimbels has a better price on rollerskates? It’s like that. Playing nice over an employee that has left your salon shows that you’re the bigger person. No hard feelings, bygones, and so forth. You might not be able to keep the client, but at least you won’t seal your fate in her mind by leaving her with the last impression that you’re bitter and petty, which might be the difference between losing a client forever and having her find her way back eventually. Or losing a client who also had her hair done in your salon, but wanted to follow her nail tech and now doesn’t feel comfortable being caught in the middle.

I’m amazed by some of the stories I hear. I can’t believe how many times I hear of a nail tech being polite enough to give two weeks notice, only to have the owner send her packing as soon as she gives notice. At the same time, owners are always griping that techs just up and leave without giving notice.

Absolute craziness.

I also think it’s perfectly acceptable for a tech who is leaving to keep a copy of her client information and notify them of her change of venue. Our clients expect — and deserve — nothing less.

I’ve been with Attitudes Salon for almost two years now since I decided I was “totally over” owning my own salon after nine years. Monday was the third time I’ve rearranged my space.

I live in the shampoo room. Well, I mean I work in the shampoo room — that’s where my station is. I live at home. In a house. With two dogs and a boy(friend, that is).

Attitudes is in a house from the early ’70s that was converted to commercial space several years ago. There’s no garage anymore; it’s been annexed into the salon. The backyard has become a parking lot and you enter through the backdoor, through what was once the utility room. If you turn left, you go into the “garage” and will encounter sisters Christine and Deborah doing hair and Jena doing nails.

If you turn right, you will encounter the shampoo room in what was once the kitchen, with me just opposite the bowls under what was once the dining room window. Further exploration will lead you into the “living room” where owner Janet and our newest inmate — errr, I mean, staff member — Joann occupy stations as hairstylists. The “bedrooms” are occupied by massage therapist Anne and massage therapist/pedicure queen Mom, I mean Ginny. Bedroom #3 is a break room.

So, as I was saying, I rearranged my space on Monday. I don’t have many options for how I set up my station, so basically I moved my desk back to where it was when I originally moved in — under the window so I am directly facing traffic as it moves through my room. I suspect it might be better Feng Shui that way than being sideways to the traffic the way it’s been for the last year.

Last year, just before doing the switch with Lois for the NAILS “Trading Spaces” article, I broke the second bottle of polish since moving into Attitudes. Two bottles of polish in less than a year! In the 14 years before that I had never broken a bottle of polish by dropping it on the floor of any other salon I have ever worked in! The first time — only a week after moving into Attitudes and while the owner was on vacation in Hawaii — I managed to get the dark red cleaned up fast and without substantial damage to the linoleum tile floor. The second bottle — OPI’s Boris and Natasha — didn’t cooperate with me as well.

I bought an area rug.

When I lifted up the rug on Monday to reposition it, I was aghast by the pile of dust that had accumulated under the rug. It looked like someone had emptied a small beach under there! Not to mention being reminded of those much-loved cartoon villains’ untimely demise. Fortunately, the rug’s new position still manages to cover most of their remains — and of course I was able to sweep up the dust after taking a picture for posterity.

It does lead me to wonder what is left after five years of working on top of my last carpet (I didn’t have the same carpet for all nine years) and what, exactly IS the best flooring option to put under nail stations?

By last Tuesday afternoon I had managed to get stilettos on my entire right hand (I’m left-handed) with Ed Hardy-inspired artwork on two of them.

By the time I left work on Friday evening, I had managed to get four of them decorated Ed Hardy style. (I’m really proud of my thumb.)

Every Friday my “in-laws” (not technically married so not really in-laws) host “pizza and beer night” at a local pizza parlor. This is a thinly disguised ploy to bribe their children (my BF and his sister) and their families to visit them at least once a week.

My step-niece-in-law — all of 10 years old — emphatically announced that I had “the coolest nails EVAR!”

It had taken the better part of one week for me to adjust to the stilettos and I was pretty proud of them — and myself for not being entirely crippled with them. So I was planning on doing the nails on my left hand to match.

Yesterday morning it all came to a screeching — or rather a screaming, sobbing — end.

We were preparing to load the dogs up in the back of the Xterra to take them out to the BF’s parents’ place: 2 1/2 acres of grass and mud and pool and dog-friends to play with until they are an exhausted mess that will spend the rest of the afternoon laying listlessly on the living room floor while the humans enjoy their Sunday afternoon.

The dogs knew they were going to get to go somewhere and they were having a very hard time sitting and waiting patiently while we loaded up all the things we had to take out there.

The BF walked out the door after telling the dogs to “stay” and I followed, trying to close the door behind me before the dogs could banzai the threshold and go running willy-nilly through the neighborhood. (They aren’t very well-trained.) Alas, the big one had his head through the door before I could pull it closed. In one terrible, excruciating heartbeat, I reached for the maverick dog with the left hand while trying to pull the door closed — thus preventing a second dog escape — with the stiletto’d hand.

Then everything went black.

It didn’t break — oh how I wish it had broken! It got caught between the door and the door jam, squishing the finger just below the cuticle while yanking the nail upward and back. It really hurts, and it’s a bloody mess around the cuticle and under the nail.

This was my greatest fear of wearing stilettos — I don’t lead a stiletto-friendly lifestyle. I have no idea how long it will take before I can even stand to shorten the nail, let alone use my right index finger for anything. I have a two-day educational event next month. I wonder if it’ll be back to normal by then? Will I even be able to work this week? Needless to say, I don’t think I’ll be doing the other hand.

Such a shame. I was so proud of them and looking forward to showing them off for the next few weeks!

It started with Gina showing off her Ed Hardy-inspired nails on the message boards at BeautyTech.com, followed closely by the kick@$$ November cover of Nails Magazine featuring tattoo-style artwork. Then J (aka OPI educator Joseph Pham) threw down the gauntlet and challenged us all to an Ed Hardy nail-off.

Although I adore stiletto nails, I don’t get to do them on anyone because my clients are all far too practical and gainfully employed for these things.

So I decided to meet J’s challenge, and see if I can turn out an acceptable stiletto at the same time.

I see a lot of photos posted out there of “stiletto” nails that I just don’t think qualify. Stilettos are not merely nails that have been filed into a point. Those are pointed nails. When I was taught stilettos, it was pointed out that they are supposed to maintain a very deep, pronounced C-curve — all the way to the very pointy point. Pulling off this technique means you can’t really do it with tips. (At least until some company starts developing stiletto tips. Wonder how long that will take?)

I figured before I go blabbing about the difference between pointy nails and stiletto nails, I’d better make sure I can pull off the latter before criticizing the former. So here’s my contribution. I’m pretty proud of myself.

Meanwhile, the boyfriend and the coworkers all got an up-close look at why stilettos aren’t just long, pointy nails, and I think they were all pretty impressed to discover there’s more to it than that.

So I had a little down time this week and spent it working on doing the rest of my right hand to match the one nail. I have now been sporting one hand full of stilettos for 24 hours. When anyone asks me how I do anything, I hold up my left hand — which is still natural and very short — and pronounce, “I’m left-handed!”

I have decided to do all 10 nails in stilettos. Then I’m going to live with them for one week. This is a major challenge to myself. I don’t wear my nails long, let alone extra-long and super pokey. I’m hoping to enjoy lots of attention and maybe find a few clients who are in the market for exactly this type of nail, while also enjoying the opportunity to laugh at myself while I try to figure out how to zip up my pants — not to mention type!

So far my coworkers have rolled their eyes and can’t believe I’m really going to do both hands and at least one client has made a serious bet with me — she doesn’t think I can make it.

I made the rule that the challenge doesn’t begin until I get both hands done, so it might be awhile before I get to report my results.

Wish me luck! (But if I make it, I expect gift cards for lattés.)

Opaque means that you CAN’T see through it.

Look it up if you don’t believe me.

It amazes me how many people use this word incorrectly. Clients use the word “opaque” when they mean “transparent” all the time. I let it go because I usually get what they mean from the context they use it in, and because I don’t see the need to go embarrassing them over their crappy vocabulary when I want them to give me money, but when it’s my colleagues? Puh-leez. People, get a dictionary.

Opaque means that light cannot pass through it. Transparent means that light can pass through it, and translucent is somewhere in between. (I admit the official definitions of “opalescent” and “iridescent” confuse me completely and I probably use them incorrectly.)

I will never forget the meaning of “opaque” because I went to high school with a guy who had a story: When Tim was in 8th grade, one of his English vocabulary words was “opaque.” His teacher asked him to use the word “opaque” in a sentence. Tim said, “Mr. McGlasson’s head is opaque.”

Which, of course, it was. And still is for that matter.

Nevertheless, Mr. McGlasson got all uptight about the sentence and accused Tim of calling him “thick-headed.”

Tim never forgot that. He just couldn’t understand why his teacher had been offended. I know Mr. McGlasson so I’m abstaining from comment.

So here I am 20-some years later and I know the meaning of the word “opaque.” There are a lot of words that get misused in our language — including many that have developed new uses via slang — but “opaque” keeps getting misused entirely. In a way that ends up meaning someone doesn’t get what they wanted: If you tell me you want an “opaque” polish, I will pull down several polishes that you can’t see through. Of course, clients almost always mean that they want something sheer and we have to start over.

If I can just help one person out there to use this word correctly, my life will have meaning.

That’s what they said when they asked me to do this blog. They said they wanted someone who is working “in the trenches.” Which I interpret as meaning someone who is a working nail tech, making a living off of doing nails on clients in a salon day after day after day after... you get the drift.

That’d be me alright.

I don’t make $100K a year. In fact, I have yet to break the $50K mark. That’s gross receipts folks, not adjusted personal gross. I personally know techs who are hitting those numbers. Some of them right here in my area code. I can’t make excuses that I just don’t live in an area where people are willing to pay premium prices. I have to admit I’m doing something wrong — or at least, not right.

What is it? I’ve been doing nails consistently for 16 years. I’ve been working in the same zip code for the last 10 years, with eight of them at the same location. I don’t salon-hop. I think I do decent work. I have good client retention. If I can get someone in my chair, there’s about an 80% chance that I’ll see them again. Many of my clients have been with me consistently for over five years now. I have clients who have never let another nail tech touch their hands.

Despite recent accusations from one client, I do return calls, text messages, and e-mails in a timely manner — usually within 24 hours unless the message came in over the weekend. I almost never stand up a client or accidently double-book. (Hey 16 years is a long time and I’m only human. I think I have a pretty darn good record!)

I have lots of theories, and I’m sure you do too. I can hear all sort of things from, “Maggie, maybe you want to put a check on your narcissism.” to “Maggie, stop wearing your pajamas to work.” and maybe even, “Maggie, would it really kill you to let your clients bring their kids with them?” (BTW, yes, it would.)

Occasionally I go through phases where I get down on myself and over-analytical about these issues. I start comparing myself to my colleagues, especially the ones who are higher profile and making heftier bank deposits. Thing is, they don’t really seem to fit into the same category. I know techs who always wear suits to work. Techs who would never curse in front of a client and keep their personal lives personal. Techs who autoclave everything and wear gloves so they never actually touch their clients. Techs who wear jeans to work every day. Techs who gossip with their clients. Techs who never disinfect and reuse their files and buffers. Techs who constantly sleep in and are always late for their first appointment.

There just isn’t a standard to go by. So what’s a girl to do if she’s looking for a role model?

What makes clients flock to your desk? What makes a client willing to wait on a cancellation list for months until you have time to get them in? What makes a client totally cool with paying $80 for a fill? Or driving 100 miles out of her way to see you? Most importantly, what is it that keeps a steady stream of new clients at the ready to replace ones?

Is it a personality trait? Is it the environment you work in?

I think it has to do with what you charge for your work. That seems to be one consistency in the paradigm. It seems that the techs who price themselves at the high end of their market hold the most prestige. Maybe this is because they can make more money with fewer clients, but I think people assume that expensive is better. I think price sends a message to the consumer that makes a bold statement about your product.

So why am I under-pricing myself? Same reason most of us are, probably. Worry that my current clients will wander off. They’ve been standing by me and paying my bills for years now. I feel like I owe them a little counter-loyalty by not hitting them with a major rate increase. Even if I raise my prices a few dollars every year, I’ll never catch up, because my working-smarter-not-harder brethren are smart enough to raise their prices every year too.

Oh well. I do OK, really, and I have no one to blame but myself for settling for in between. Most of the time I’m pretty happy and confident with where I am. Some days it just gets to me. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has days like these.

Sometimes I avoid confrontation. Not because it makes me nervous or because I’m afraid to face anyone, but because I’m so #$!@ing mad that I know I won’t be able to remain coherent, let alone professional.

So it is that I have sat and stewed for the last two days since receiving two voicemails that left me mad enough to kick puppies.

I don’t like telephones. In all honesty, I would really benefit from working in a salon with a receptionist who handles calls and books appointments for me. But I do like being in control of my appointments, so I have intentionally shied away from having a receptionist. How it is that so many of my colleagues manage to convince their clients that not answering the phone during services is a good thing? I try not to answer the phone while I’m performing services, but that often means that it’s several hours before I can check my voicemail and return calls.

I also am not a morning person; I work late most days — late enough that it would be inappropriate to return calls when I get off work.

And I rarely answer the phone on my days off. I figure if I used the salon (as opposed to my cell), clients would have to leave a message at the salon and wait until I returned to work before I could return their call. Why should I be available 24/7 just because I use my cell phone?

Monday evening I checked my voicemail. I had two messages from the same client — a client who has been with me for seven years now. The first one was left at 3 p.m. She called to say, “I have a new client for you” and asked me to call her back. The second message was left at 4:41 p.m. the same day. This message was the one that has kept me from calling her back. Essentially, she made a comment about my never returning phone calls, then she let me know how “disappointed” she is in me. Then she said that she “had” a new client for me, and that “you still have an opportunity, if you have an availability on Wednesday.”

Her tone was extremely calm and soft, but also incredibly demeaning. Not to mention I haven’t seen clients on Wednesdays in five years, and I don’t personally think an hour and 41 minutes is too long to have to wait for a return call.

Oh yeah, and how about six weeks ago when this same client stood me up? When I called her 15 minutes into her scheduled appointment she was totally blasé about having forgotten her appointment. But since she said she was on her way to a funeral at that exact moment, I cut her some slack. She said she’d call me later to reschedule, but she never did. Like I said, she’s been a client for seven years, so I sat tight. I didn’t hear from her for two more weeks — when she showed up at the salon on a Monday afternoon long before I was scheduled to be there. She had arbitrarily decided to switch appointment times with another client she knows, except the other client had her day wrong. Not to mention Client B was scheduled for a simple fill on pink-and-whites (about 1/2 an hour of time), while Client A is not only due for a fancy glittery, rock star backfill, but also hasn’t been in for four weeks (which will easily set me back 1 1/2 hours)!

Why do they think they can just switch up their appointments on me like that?

The last appointment thing ended up getting worked out, but do you think I got an apology for standing me up two weeks prior? Or an offer to compensate me for my lost wages? Anything? Even a latté?

But now I hear that I’m disappointing her because I didn’t call her back within an hour? And why can’t her friend call me herself if she wants to make an appointment?

Oooooh... There, now I’m too mad to call her again.

So this weekend I made the trek up to Sacramento (a three- to four-hour drive) to attend a tradeshow sponsored by, ahem, as they say on the talk shows “another network.”

So the BF and I drove up on Saturday morning, checked into the hotel and spent our day wandering around Old Sacramento before dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe and retiring for the evening with every intention of getting an early start in the morning.

The first 500 people into the show in the morning would get a bag that has traditionally been filled with samples and literature donated by the exhibitors at the show. If there’s a way to convince me to be anywhere other than asleep before noon, it involves coffee, money, or free samples of nail stuff.

Of course, I didn’t set an alarm. That would be silly. The BF is always up at the first hint of dawn. So it was 7:56 a.m. when I bolted out of bed and landed in the shower in one magnificent leap! With a bleary-eyed boyfriend inquiring just what the heck I was doing. I informed him of the time and he was no less confused than I was at how we managed to sleep in.

So it was that I managed to shower, dress, pack, check out, and eat breakfast and still manage to get to the convention center and receive my bag of goodies.

I remember a very influential post to the Beautytech.com mailing list last year about the way show attendees dress, so I try to kick it up a notch whenever I’m about to be judged by a jury of my professional peers. So there I am in my nice black slacks with my shiny high heels on — yup high heels. First of all, I’m thrilled that “real” high heels are back in style, not those chunky wedge things. Second, they were the only shoes that sufficiently showed off my groovy rock star toenails. They’re also fairly comfortable — well, they were, until my feet started to sweat. I am now sporting some lovely blisters on the sides of my toes. Not to worry. I have “delicate princess syndrome” (extremely thin, sensitive skin) and it’s a sure bet that if I’m wearing shoes at all, I’m getting blisters.

Of course, I don’t want to look like the idiot who wore high heels to a show and couldn’t hack it, so no limping for me! Meanwhile, I have lost 15 pounds since last purchasing pants and my slacks don’t have belt loops! So I’m wandering the show floor trying to keep my shoes from rubbing against the blisters while also trying to hold up my pants, and of course, that’s when I run into someone who says “I know who you are!” I know it’s hard to believe, but there are actually times when I don’t want a spotlight on me.

You might be a groundhog if you are so afraid of confrontation that the sight of your own shadow extends winter by six weeks!

Over my years of participating in online networking forums I’ve seen a lot of arguments flare up. Some have been legitimate, worthwhile debates, but most of them start because someone makes a post someone else disagrees with them, and then Poster A gets offended and goes on a rampage.

Even when debates are going along perfectly smoothly and professionally, eventually somebody interrupts with a “why can’t we all get along” post, which is where it always gets good for me.

I love to watch people argue on the Internet.

I like to help.

I’ve been called a “pot stirrer.” But anyone who cooks knows that you have to occasionally stir the pot, or the sauce will scorch, right?

The thing that I don’t get is why is it such a bad thing to be “confrontational?” I hear that accusation thrown around in forums a lot. I understand how you might get your feelings hurt by a post that was outright mean-spirited or plainly rude. But not only is confrontation not a bad thing, it’s something many of us in this biz need to get better at!

How many times have I heard colleagues seeking advice because their clients take advantage of them? They let their clients get away with murder — no-shows, late arrivals, unruly children, rude behavior, and underpaying — just because the tech is too “non-confrontational” to speak up and enforce her policies.

These are the same techs who get into fights on the Internet and threaten to leave forums forever because someone dared to disagree with them. I’ve seen people throw a tantrum because they are so uber-sensitive that they can barely stand that someone even replied to their posts. No wonder they can’t get their clients to take them seriously and show them some respect.

Suck it up. Confrontation is good for you. It builds character.

There was recently some hubbub in one of my fave forums that sent some feathers flying, and although many people chimed in with some amazingly well articulated thoughts, The Nail Geek stopped by and dropped the following pearl of wisdom for us to ponder:

“Welcome to the world of forums.”

Just like the real world, forums can be filled with the most interesting of personalities. Some of these personalities can be overly aggressive, some can be hyper-sensitive. Some need public praise to feel validated. Some have good days. Some have bad days. Some sneak snide comments into their posts and some find snide comments where there were none to start with.

Wow, sounds a lot like life. Share your perspectives, respect each others opinions, and learn good info from those that give it and learn to ignore those that don’t.

Real life is full of confrontation. If it’s really that scary for you, I suggest going back in your hole to wait out the rest of the winter. The rest of us are making snow angels.