The power of the pink polish.

I hadn't been home to visit my parents in over a year. So it was always going to be an experience.

Away from the familarities I've become used to (holding the remote control myself /eating things from the fridge without being questioned), back in a suburb that seemed to shrink with every humid minute. And I'd gone home for a rather ambitious two week stint, the vastness of which expanded hourly. Add to that a death in the family,  funeral plans, and constant hot and thick rain. The dampness seemed to find its way into my mood after two days. 

On one particular evening, let's assume it was the first, I was listening to my father's running commentary of 7:30 Report. A show which, some might argue, doesn't imply a real need for commentary. At the same time I was being directed by my mother to expediate her crossword puzzle by researching the name for an adolescent newt - an eft, for those who have lost sleep wondering. It was, as I'm sure I need not elaborate, truly an evening for the record books.

And I remembered one of the most valuable life lessons a young female who likes to take care of her appearance will ever learn when sandwiched between her parents on the couch for two weeks. 

Pink nailpolish makes everything less dreary. 

I am wanting to eat this colour. Flower-to-flower.

 I'm not even being a sarcastic bitch. Ok I am. But it really, seriously, lifts ones mood to the point of teenage-girl-dilerium. Injects colour and life, and gives you more ego and self-respect while you have unattrarctive sweat beads on your top lip and your hair smells somewhat like wet togs.

Up until that point, I had completely erased from my goldfish memory the power of the polish. 

It is a marvel. 

A miracle. 

A small but worthy opponent against all of life's shitness (great adjective Jeano). And it reminded me of how lovely it is to be typing on a bland keyboard and see its shiny, lolly-like sweetness. It can make any work-day more doable. Any colour lacking in cheeks and face after two bottles of chardonnay can be compensated by having musky, alluring fingertops.

Do you think this is the most ridiculous thing you have ever read?

Would you like to have received a pen for Christmas (I now know from male feedback that no warm-blooded man actually would..HAH! There you go...)

Here is a picture of some person trying to look like she is being seductive and naughty while in the family office, but is in actual fact taking a photo of herself modelling a sweet-redskinnish-to-die-for-pinkish-red polish.

work it girl.