My Barista Loves My Nail Polish...

Last Sunday I crammed in a super-quick manicure between my sixth phone call to my boss that day, and my afternoon SoHo date with Josh. I was typing, actually, and looking at the atrocity that had become my nails since their last pampering, so I grabbed a 20 and a pair of sunglasses and ran two blocks to Nails & More on Broadway for a do-over.

I hate to play favorites, but this walks-in-welcome cheap nail spot is the best in Manhattan by far. They always accommodate, it is clean as clean can be, and they're so nice. My favorite is Isabel. I was so glad to get her that day! With ruby red toe nails still in place from a similarly panicked moment a couple weeks prior, I decided to do something fun with my fingers since hey, it's winter now and who cares if the two sets of nails relate?

I browsed the rack feeling the usual combination of hope and boredom. Stick with something creamy and neutral that will look refined and professional at client meetings this week? Go for a punchy pale pink to bring back girlhood days without going overboard? Silly, flirty favorites like mint green or baby blue are out of the question since August is over and I officially have shed my Silly Bandz and given up crazy colors till Memorial Day comes once more. No, I suddenly decided, I wanted purple. I needed purple. It had to be purple or I had to leave.

Always a fan of Lilacism, I held up the familiar dusty lavender and contemplated it momentarily. I'll come back to you someday, Lilacism, I will. But today, I needed punchier! I need PURPLE. And there at the bottom of the rack, I found it. Something so out of the norm they had stashed it among the lime greens and the glittery blacks. A shimmering purple so deep, that changed in a moment to brown, then to a certain blue, then to silver, and back to a new, lighter shade of purple, by simply shaking the bottle. I had found my shade.

The beauty of a manicure by Isabel is that at a mere $9.50, it will actually last a week. As I write this, 6 days later, I have not even a chip. But the master of this particular manicure is that it has actually gotten stares. Compliments. Gushes. On the subway, at lunch with an industry contact, and then--the big moment--at Starbucks. My male barista on Monday morning, never one to look up or mutter much more than a "That'll be 2.50, ma'am," (MA'AM? Seriously?) actually stopped what he was doing, made eye contact and said, "Miss, love the nail color. So cool."

I died. I overreacted. I showered him millions of thanks because I was so excited. It wasn't in my head--this truly was the perfect color. And, it had mysteriously taken me from ma'am to miss in a matter of a moment. Bonus: three days later, same Starbucks, different barista, this one female-- "Girl! Love the nails!" Yay!

Here is the fun part. This too can be yours! It's called Main Squeeze. Looks a little different in this photo, but trust me in person you will adore. Look for it the next time, and let me know if your barista--or your boyfriend-- loves it as much as you do.