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So, it's been several weeks now and I think I can safely discuss the whole thing without yelling and screaming too much. But a friend of mine recently got a rather crappy e-mail that basically let her know that the company that she's been educating for won't be needing her anymore.

Naturally, that's a whole story in and of itself and I personally thought the whole thing was pretty darn crappy on several different levels. But, in a nutshell, the reason given was that the company in question needed demonstrators/educators who were capable of doing "high-end" nail styles, i.e., stilettos.

And let's never mind that my friend does stilettos, and let's never mind a lot of other things about the situation that just lead to me hopping up and down and calling ducks ducks until I collapse in an exasperated heap on the floor in a near catatonic state just shaking my head at the total nonsense of how it all works. Let's just never mind a lot of things.

Let's talk about the BF's perspective, which happens to be insanely good this time:

Who is the company's customer? You and me, right? We're talking about a nail product manufacturer here; they exhibit at tradeshows in order to put their product directly in front of their prospective customers. Now, maybe the stiletto thing is hot and heavy in some geographical regions. And I know that several U.S. techs love them and have great success with the style being popular with their clientele. But, from my understanding, the popularity of this style in the U.S. market is still the minority.

And yeah, we're suckers for fancy nail styles and art that amaze us and show off what is possible with a product. I'm certainly not arguing that companies shouldn't want demonstrators who can demonstrate extreme styles.

But I've walked the floors at the tradeshows. I've stood next to countless everyday, ordinary nail techs who work in the salon every day for a real living on real people who are not candidates for stilettos. Or any extreme nail style. I've heard these nail techs comment on the extreme nail styles worn by demonstrators and on the styles being demonstrated — and I've watched them walk on by to the booth where they find demonstrators who are demonstrating the styles that actually represent what those real people really wear.

These techs are sometimes intimidated by these "high-end" demonstrations. They feel that they are being shunned by manufacturers who cater to the competition crowd or the high-profile industry set. They don't feel they belong at those booths. Many of these techs simply know right from the get-go which side their bread is buttered on. They aren't going to spend hundreds of dollars on fancy products that they know they'll never use. They know their clients want pink-and-whites. Short ones, that don't get in the way of typing, changing diapers, or washing dishes.

Yes, I know. We all have a box full of fancy stuff we bought at the show that we hardly ever have a chance to use. And lots of us manage to use fancy things in ways that our clients want. It's not a hard and fast rule I'm talking about here. But the BF did bring up a good point: If you know your customer is going back to the salon to do nails that need to stand up to the horrible things that real clients really do to them, why would you insist on demonstrating techniques that your customers aren't going to use daily?

I think Ferraris are pretty too. But I drive a Nissan Sentra. And when I was shopping for it, I didn't waste any time in the Ferrari dealership oohing and aahing, I went to the Nissan dealership and bought the car I set out to get.

The Ferrari nail client represents a very small portion of the client market, and the Ferrari nail tech represents a small portion of the product market. It's all well and fine for manufacturers to want to show off what can be done with their products, but after the customer buys the product and gets back to the salon with it, you need educators who those customers can relate to, who spend their time in the salon doing nails the way the customer does.

I think my friend's former employer will find they've shot themselves in the foot over the long haul. And I'm seeing several manufacturers implementing similar thinking. The Ferrari market is small and there's already plenty of competition for it; isn't anyone left who wants to take care of the rest of us?

(Stiletto nails by Peggy Bartel, Nail Workz, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada)

The magazine itself is, as most issues have been for the last 18 years now, just fine. I may end up having some issue with one of the articles, but nothing to write home — or NAILS — about. BUT THEN I came to page 85. Nail Art Studio. Two pages of nail art designs, submitted by readers, with step-by-step instructions on how to do it yourself. I'm sure you're already familiar.

And it struck me that this is exactly the sort of thing that deserves a good, old fashioned ranting! And the BF and dogs — and the neighbors, seeing as how I was reading it on the patio — will all agree, since they were all forced to listen to my little tantrum about the dang nail tips shown in the magazine.

You wanna know a real pet peeve of mine? I absolutely cannot stand it when nail art is displayed upside-freakin’-down! As every single one of the designs on page 85 is.

I know. I get it. Sometimes people actually do hold up their hand in such a manner to show their nails to someone. But let's face it, mostly they don't. Mostly they hold their hands down, so that the nail art is displayed in the same manner as it was applied. But even that isn't my biggest issue. I mean, what do I care how my clients hold their hands when they're stopped on the street by strangers demanding to see their nails?

What I do care about is that the tips shown in the magazines are there to serve as sample images to guide us through recreating these designs.

I do not hold my clients' hands in this position to apply nail art. I apply nail art with the hand resting on the tabletop, fingers pointing toward my belly button. Sometimes, when I'm working on a really detailed design, I might hold their hand up higher — fingers pointing at my cleavage — and put my tongue on my nose to help me concentrate. Really, I make the stupidest faces while I'm concentrating. But I do not twist their hands around and point their nails toward the ceiling — or their own cleavage — in order to execute the design.

These tips are upside-down. And it bugs the heck out of me! And yeah! I know it's not a major, important issue that faces our industry that needs to be addressed immediately before the industry collapses in ruin. But — like which way the toilet paper hangs off the roll — it's a really annoying pet peeve. And everyone needs to just admit that I am right and stop displaying nail art upside down. Right now.
 

It occurs to me that I have mellowed considerably over the years. When I started doing nails, back in 1992, it always struck me as odd that people would continue to come back to me when I broke all the "rules" of doing business.

I talk. About myself mostly, and I tend to monopolize the conversation. And I talk about "taboo" subjects: religion, politics, etc.

Now here's the thing: It took me about two days of kindergarten to figure out that I am not like most people. Back then I wasn't really sure why I was different or how to fix it, and by the time I was out of  high school I still wasn't sure what it was, but I knew two things: It had gotten worse, and it didn't need fixing.

So by the time I landed behind the nail table in front of real, live people who I really hoped would pay me on a continuing basis, I discovered several more things about myself.

First, I discovered that I had a nervous compulsion to talk to my clients. I really felt that sitting with my head down while I was working and not even trying to entertain my guests was rude. So if they didn't start talking, I did. Still do.

I also found that in some instances, that's the best way to look forward to seeing them again. Not everyone turns out to be someone I want to sit and chat with for an hour or two — and the best way to avoid discovering that is to not let them talk.

Secondly, I discovered I don't share many prejudices. And most people have prejudices they'd like me to share.

Which is how I came to find myself in awe that I was building a clientele, considering I never had a problem speaking up and letting people know that I did not share their prejudices.

Over the years, be it politics, religion, culture, race, sexual orientation, generational values, technology ... you name it, if people can have an opinion about it, they probably don't have the same opinion I do.

Tonight I heard a familiar voice. Tonight I heard my own voice from about 17 years ago, humorously, but sternly, correcting a client's terminology while — hopefully — letting it be known that I don't really feel that way about that particular group of people. And it occurred to me that I haven't spoken up like that for a long time now.

Is it because I've gotten so much better at nodding and smiling? Or is it because I've built a solid clientele of people who know how I feel about things?

I believe I have lamented in the past about my clientele's complete lack of interest in fancy stiletto nails. No stilettos. No super-long nails. Very little 3-D art. I don't even get to do those hideous duck-foot flare things! I'm not saying I'm a big fan of that look, but at least it's a new challenge that makes a heckuva statement!

Nail art has never fallen out of popularity in Visalia. When the rest of the world was wearing classy, elegant pink-and-whites, I was still going through polish like a mad woman. But at least I got to do nail art over it — I've never stopped enjoying the nail art, I just wanted to do it over pink-and-whites!

Then the "rock star" craze caught fire and brought a whole new definition of "nail art" to the masses. I was loving it! Glitter, rhinestones, mylar, impressions, AND hand-painted nail art! All on the same nails! At the same time! You cannot imagine my mirth.

Then the 3-D nail art and the pictures of stilettos came pouring on the Internet.

Oh.

My.

GOD.

It does not get better than this, right? Not for someone who claims to have been "born with a paintbrush in my hand." I mean, since I was old enough to speak words, it was known in my family that I was going to grow up to be an artist. All I had to do was find my preferred medium — *VOILA* — nails, of course. So this recent trend for uber bling-tastic nails is a dream come true.

Except for one thing. My clients aren't into it. They like the glitter fine, and went along with the trends for about a minute before letting me know that they really didn't want glitter, mylar, impressions, and nail art all on the same nails, all at the same time. In fact, several of my most daring rock star clients have recently reverted to pink-and-whites: "They just look so clean."

So what's a desperate nail tech to do? Take it off the nail, of course. So I've been embellishing rings and things, which make awesome retail doo-dads for the gals who want it, but not on their fingertips.

Today, one of my clients saw the ring I'm about to start on. So far, it's just a base of color with some acrylic — no actual art on it — and she says, "How much are you selling that one for?"

About breaks my heart. All that work on all the other rings. All that time and energy I spent creating something and she says, "I'm just a plain kinda girl."

I should charge her extra for that.

As we all know — and often wish we could shout from the rooftops to the general public — not all nail salons are created equally. Not all nail technicians/nail artists/nail stylists/nailists/onychological enhancement specialists are created equally. There's a big difference between a $20 set of nails and a $60 set of nails.

Just like there's a big difference between a car that costs $15,000 and a car that costs $85,000. And there's a big difference between jewelry that costs $100 and jewelry that costs $10,000, jeans that cost $30 and jeans that cost $150, a purse that costs $25 and a purse that cost $1,200 ... and a cup of coffee that cost $1.50 and a cup of coffee that costs $4.45.

There've been thousands of conversations on our forums and articles in our magazines about how to market our services in order to raise awareness of these price-to-quality ratios as they pertain to our industry so that we can lure clients away from cheap nail salons and into the waiting arms of the caring nail techs who are ready to prove that our higher prices really are worth it in the long run.

Yet, from the same mouths, almost in the same breath, I also hear my breathren talking about choosing lesser brands of all manner of products from their nail art to their lattes with much of their reasoning based on price.

Sometimes I'm right there with ya. I'm not going to pay the same price for ¼-oz. of glitter when I can get ½-oz. for the same price. There are plenty of instances where I've been able to find products of similar quality at significantly different prices — in which case, I'm all about the savings. And then there are the times when I honestly cannot detect a difference in quality... and if that's the case, why would I choose the more expensive product?

Which is what wrinkles my brow as more and more people in my circle swear off Starbucks in favor of...ummm, well you know what you're drinking.

It boggles my mind that so many people claim that they honestly can't tell the difference between the coffee mega-brand's product and the fast food mega-brand's offerings. Really? You think it's just as good?

Not me. I keep finding the money for the more expensive stuff — because I honestly think there's a huge difference and the quality is worth the extra cost to me.

Which got me to thinking about all those conversations about convincing the target market for our products and services that there's a good reason to pay the higher price. But here we are, not practicing that same thinking in our own consumer habits.

A lot of people really can't tell the difference between an exquisitely sculpted set of pink-and-whites and a clear overlay on top of poorly fitted white tips. And that truth is terrifying, humiliating, and devastating to those of us who put our heart and soul into our work and charge accordingly.

Somewhere in Seattle there is a heartbroken barista with mediocre nails talking about how she just can't understand why people would drink inferior coffee just because it's cheaper. (Of course, she doesn't actually work at Starbucks because they won't let you have your nails done. But that's beside the point.)

How many nail techs are ordering their coffee while wearing exquisitely sculpted pink-and-whites and wondering why anyone would wear inferior nails just because they're cheaper?

I recently had a chance to visit with two of my BFFs — I'm allowed to have more than one BFF, aren't I?

I've known BFF Amber since 1987, and BFF Stacy since 1998. I think that's plenty of time for them to have developed a keen grasp of what I do. Unfortunately, both my BFF's don't actually live in the same zip code as I do and, as it turns out, even though they know what I do — they apparently don't really know what I do. 

They think I do nails.

I hadn't seen BFF Amber in two years. She's been busy living far away and raising kids and working her butt off as a respiratory therapist, which means she does not get to have her nails done. Since the last time we had a chance to visit in person, I have re-opened my own salon on the fourth floor of an office building.

She grew up in the same town I currently live in. She knows what building I'm talking about. So she sort of wrinkled up her forehead and cocked her head to one side and said, "Do you get a lot of walk-ins in that building?"

Which made me wrinkle up my forehead and cock my head to one side and say, "huh?"

And, a few days later, when I was visiting with BFF Stacy, we had a similar conversation.

Which is when it occurred to me that they don't really spend much quality time with me talking about my career. They are both proud of my accomplishments and glad that I'm doing well, but they don't really understand the way I run my business.

They're familiar with the nail industry from street level. They see discount nail shops and day spas; they don't realize that there are nail techs like me all over the world, holed up in tiny office suites blissfully conducting our business one client at a pre-booked appointment time.

The don’t realize that I not only don't rely on walk-in clients to support my business, but I don't encourage walk-ins. I cultivate client loyalty. There are plenty of people out there that prefer the walk-in salon routine, and there are plenty of salons out there to accommodate them. But there are also many people out there who prefer a set schedule with the same nail tech — service after service, year after year. And I can accommodate about 60 of them. Everyone else will have to find their own secreted-away nail tech.

Anyway. I know it seemed to be news to BFF Amber that I don't want walk-in business. And it was news to me that she didn't realize that not all salons rely on casual passers-by for their bread and butter.

Sorry. This revelation didn't really materialize into any sort of plan to change the world. I just found it interesting to see my own job through the eyes of the uninitiated for a change.

I wonder if we all are surrounded by non-industry friends and relatives who don't really get who we are?

Without getting too wordy on the background story, I'll just start with: My mom is down to one hand. Diabetes + cats that don't like the dog + fight + bite + emergency surgery = her left hand is out of commission for the time being.

On a seemingly unrelated note, the BF is terrified of glitter. Which is not an uncommon fear among men, as it turns out, but the BF has a great story to back up his distrust of the shiny stuff:

The BF once knew a guy who told a story about his wife bringing home a bunch of Christmas decorations one year. The decorations were all decked out with glitter which, over the course of the season, proceeded to come off the decorations and get everywhere. This guy had glitter on the furniture, in the carpet, on the dog, everywhere. After the holidays that year, after the offending decorations had long been put away, they continued to find glitter everywhere, no matter how many times they vacuumed. Naturally, this guy spent a fair amount of time sharing his pain with the other guys until the glitter curse became legend.

Then something tragic happened to the BF's friend. A few years after the Christmas ornament debacle, the guy's house burned down. As in to the ground. But his buddies tried to find a bright side and someone offered that at least he finally got rid of the glitter!

Which is when the BF's fear was justified. His friend said, "Yeah. You'd think, huh?" But, in truth, while he walked through the charred remains of his belongings with the insurance adjuster, he noticed that there was still glitter shimmering among the wreckage.

Which is why my mother washes my salon towels for me. Honestly, I think she does it to feel helpful, but she says this way "the boy" (aka the BF) won't freak out from the glitter in the washing machine.

Except Mom is down to one hand now. So last week she asked if I minded doing my own towels. (OMG MOM! You never have to wash my towels! And of course I can do them!) So I took them home and washed them.

Seeing as how the BF is the one who does most of our laundry (yes, he is awesome most of the time), you can imagine the girlish shrieks of terror that wafted through our home this weekend when he opened the washing machine and demanded to know why his washing machine was full of pink glitter.

I have no idea how it got in there (*putting on my best innocent look*).

A few days ago I got to fix a set of rock star toes. A friend of a friend had had her toenails done at a local salon just up the street from me last Saturday. Twenty-four hours later, she'd lost one of the nails. By the time I saw her toes on Tuesday night, she was missing two of the nails.

I was called in to try to troubleshoot the problem, which is always so hard to do. There are so many variables involved in why nails break or come off. I'm not just going to automatically say, "Oh well the girl who did your nails obviously did them all wrong!" Because, for one thing, I don't know that and for another, it's not like my own work is infallible.

But after pointing out that she did have very short nail beds on her toes and being reassured that she "never" wears closed toe shoes, I started to wonder. More convincingly to me, she's had rock star toes done several times before by other techs and they've always lasted well over three weeks.

The client in question does not live in Visalia. Which brings me to ask: Are there any nail techs in the Ventura, Calif., area doing rock star toes? And she was leaving town the following day, meaning that she did not have time to give the tech who did her nails the opportunity to fix them for her. So I stayed a little later Tuesday night and re-did them for her.

Once I got up close and personal and started filing off the old product, I started seeing the problem: The tech who'd done her toes had applied way too much gel. The gel flooded the cuticle and had pooled up, and as we all know, it's no surprise that the nails were "popping off."

So, with great concentration, I diligently removed all the existing product while trying to explain to my client why I had to do it.

The whole time I was working I was considering taking a walk up the street to visit the other nail tech. I desperately want to go consult with her and explain where she went wrong and help her solve those problems so she has a better chance of retaining future clients.

But I don't know this other tech. I don't know if she's a newbie. I don't know if she's been doing nails for longer than I have. For all I know, she fit this client into her schedule and half-assed the whole service with no concern for whether or not the nails held. She works at a salon that has kind of a highfalutin reputation here in town, so it strikes me that she might not want to turn out inferior work like that. But then again, maybe she doesn't care. And maybe she would not take kindly to another tech coming in to "help" her out, no matter how sincerely that help might be offered.

I've been thinking about how I would have felt if that had happened to me in my first few years — I think I would have been grateful. But then again, how would I feel if it happened to me today? *gulp* I think I'd suck it up and still go with grateful, even if I might find it a tad rough on the ego.

But in the end, I'll probably stay here in my ivory tower. I don't deal well with rejection and I'd be seriously devastated if she didn't appreciate my efforts.

I started doing nails when I was 22 — PFFT! Who am I kidding? I started doing nails when I was 15! But I started my career as a nail professional when I was 22. Either way, I started when I was young. You know, young = immortal and invincible.

The very notion that I would ever find myself old and achy and ready to retire was barely even that — a notion.

Now here I am, almost half way through the big 4-0 and I've been ignoring those times I wake up in the middle of the night with my arm numb for about two years already. That irritating twinge in my right elbow that feels like someone's using a tendon in there as a guitar string? PFFT! Nothin’, I tell ya! And when I occasionally drop something because my thumb just forgot to keep holding on to it? Well, that couldn't possibly be related to work either. Right?

I need to work for 30 more years. And, quite frankly, I'm going to greet my 70th birthday with my gnarled arthritic fingers crossed that all these years of gambling on Social Security will pay off — because I'm a grasshopper, and saving for the future is just not in my nature. Believe me, there's a long, drawn out philosophical discussion involved that we just do not have time for now! But suffice it to say, my retirement fund consists of a jar full of pennies. And it's not even that big a jar.

All those aforementioned little aches and pains have been easy enough to ignore, but suddenly I find the first knuckle of my middle finger on my right hand (All my aches and pains are in my right hand/arm, BTW, but I'm left-handed. Go figure.) hurts in a hurting kinda way. I keep checking to make sure I haven't broken it. On some level, I blame the canoe. (Did I mention the BF and I got a canoe?) After all, that's when it started. But my grandmother has been nursing her own gnarled, arthritic fingers for as long as I've known her (that's been 40 years BTW, since you probably don't think reading my blog should require any math).

I'm sure I shouldn't be expecting to escape my own genetics, so it's just a matter of time before at least one of my joint succumbs.

I still blame the canoe.

But it does have me thinking seriously about what I'm really going to do about making sure I don't have to sit on the corner of a parking lot with a "will work for food" sign when actually working for food ceases to become a viable option.

Financial management and planning should be a required part of the curriculum in nail school. I'm not the only one out there who was hoping to never have to retire.

It took several of my younger clients over a year to talk me into a MySpace page. That was several years ago and all I ever heard was about how much drama there was on MySpace. Which I've never really understood anyway. The concept of online drama. Or cyber stalking. It seems to me that the Internet is one place where ignoring something really does typically make it go away! So hit "ignore" or delete that friend, or tweak your privacy settings, or block that user or whatever the forum offers.

If you're in a forum that doesn't allow you to do that, then just don't respond. And be prepared, if you do respond, you are feeding the fire and it's going to continue. There's almost never any such thing as getting the last word in an Internet forum. Believe me, I'm an expert at not letting a good Internet fight die.

But it wasn't until I broke down and agreed to a Facebook page that I've known what the girls mean by "drama."

Last year I had to deal with some less than tactful comments on my "wall" regarding one of my posts on this blog. Totally took me off guard and I was reminded that not everyone in my personal life has a clue about what I do here.

So now I'm torn: What should my personal policies be regarding adding "friends" on these social forums? Do I really need to go through all those "friends" and decide which category to sift them into? And then, if I do that, I have to change all my privacy settings and decide who gets to see my posts.

What a pain!

My policy thus far has been to just add friends and let them all see all my posts. If someone has a problem with something I say then I'll decide how to respond — if I respond. But last night I got the opportunity to experience something new. A former client posted something very sweet about her new nail tech.

Ahhhhh. That's nice. Except, there is no way I believe it was meant to be helpful to me at all. Which left me shaking my head, at a loss for how to properly respond, and I don't mean respond online. I mean, more like, react. How do I feel about it? Well, a couple of drinks, a long conversation with the BF about it, and a good night's sleep later I've decided to shake it off. But I'm still left with a nagging, "Hmmm, is it wise to be ‘friends’ with former clients?" feeling.