Monday, March 8, 2010

Spring Fashion Issues

Every so often in life, people have experiences that radically alter their world view. Sometimes they are large and religious, like seeing God or being brought back from death. Sometimes they are straight up miraculous, like the birth of a child. Sometimes they are devastating, like losing a loved one. And sometimes, they are so disgusting, so indescribably ick, that it makes you hate people. Such was an event many years ago on the vaunted Green Line B trolley, the slowest of all the trolley lines on the face of the Earth. Between stopping at every stop light and dodging BU students with no concept of self preservation, it takes hours to get downtown. Absorbed in my book (probably a pretentiously conspicuous Paul Bowles collection), I heard a metallic clicking noise. On second listen, it wasn't a clicking. It was a clipping. A clipping noise. Of nail clippers. I turned around to find a woman clipping her toe nails on the T, right behind me.

A woman was clipping her toe nails on the T, right behind me.

Yes, it took some time for me to comprehend, as well. Because this is an intimate grooming ritual, which, like plucking one's eyebrows or trimming one's nose hair, one does not do in public EVER. EVER. NO exceptions. I cannot think of an emergency in which toenail clipping in public would save your life, so I am going to go out and limb and say NEVER FUCKING EVER. I remember feeling skeeved out the entire way to class, and indeed, getting waves of nausea for the rest of the day. That feeling has never left me, and resolved my already very strong feeling that personal grooming should be taken care of without the benefit of a fare paying audience. I was glad to get off the train when I did. I can't imagine what she was planning to trim next.

What made me think of this powerful life moment? Spring is here. As the tulips and crocuses push their little heads through the soil, the people of Boston come alive. And just as the snow melts, the Bostonians clothes melt away with the raising temperatures, revealing waaaaaaaay too many things that no one wants to see. I am not talking about a gut, necessarily,or even pasty white skin (I embrace my pastiness, thank you very much) but, really, things that fall into the personal grooming arena . In other words, clip your damn toenails. If you are going to make the decision to wear sandals or flip flops (dubious for a man, to begin with, if you ask me) then have the decency to degnarlify your yellow talons before sharing them with the world. If you can grate cheese with them, they are too long. I do not expect every man, woman and child to go to the excellent MiniLuxe Spa and have a heavenly paraffin wax pedicure (divine, people!) but please clean the grit and cut the claws. I don't think that is too much to ask. Asking for you to buff the gross dead skin off your feet is overkill, i'll admit, but if you could do that too, I would appreciate it. But remember, kids, do this in the privacy of your bathroom. You can take an eye out with one of those thick Winter ungulae.

Oh, and one more thing. I know I promised to stop with the vagina stuff, but this is so ridiculous and falls so neatly into this very subject, I had to share:

Enjoy the beautiful weather!!


  1. I would just like to say that I have completely fallen in love with your blog... yup, chocolates, flowers, late night window confessions kind of love....
    I just couldn’t go on without professing this undying affection, even though I hardly know you- such is love-, and your blogs theme confuses me... it’s part of the reason I have fallen in love with it.
    Your witty prose’s, your passionate vocabulary.... sigh...heaven.
    Righto, now that embarrassing display of literature drooling is out of the way....Pleased to meet you :-), I plan to visit often.

  2. If I blushed, I would be right now. Nightingale, you made my day. A reader from Oz! How exciting!!

    The theme of my blog is a reflection of my ADHD mind. Whatever moves me on a Monday (or extra days, if I am inordinately pissed or delighted) is what i write about. And lately, it seems I am very moved by vaginas.

    Please love me, love me forever!!

  3. Oh ew, gack. I HATE TOENAIL CLIPPINGS. HATE HATE HATE. *shiver*

  4. That is freakin' nasty! I mean nastier than nose picking in public. And I'm a fan of nose picking!

    However, I've clipped my nails in public. During a gig, I realized that my nails had grown too long and I couldn't play the piano. They were clicking and clacking, so I tried to discreetly snip a couple at a time in between songs, while the noise of the restaurant buzzed. I'm sure I grossed out a few patrons, but I had no choice dammit@##!

    FYI: Your links are dead links. Meaning we can't click on them and go anywhere. Let me know if you want some help.

  5. Now wait, clipping your nails discreetly because of clip-clopping on the keys is not the same as PULLING OFF YOUR SHOES ON THE T AND CLIPPING THE CLAWS! Plus, it's all part of your art. :)

    Thanks for the help. I will fix those links as soon as I get back from practice. And after I clip my nails.

  6. Oh my fucking God!

    I would have had to say something to the bitch, or at least knock the damn clippers out of her hand!

    Literally, my stomach is turning!!!!

  7. It was one of those moments (and they are infrequent for me) when I am so taken aback that I am at a loss. Like the time I walked into a fancy schmancy wedding dress store, and the evil bitch who worked there took one look at me and said "Honey, there's NOTHING in here that YOU can afford." Both these events happened in my early twenties, a me I would never return to!