Lounging in a large,
comfortable chair at the beauty salon yesterday, luxuriating in a manicure and
pedicure, I pondered the deep philosophical questions women occasionally contemplate:
Is this experience decadent?
Should I feel guilty?
Should I enjoy this
pleasure, reassuring myself it is a necessity for my health and well-being?
Should I feel good pumping
currency into a recovering economy and helping others support their families?
Or should I shun such extravagance,
no matter how reasonable the cost?
I won a gift certificate at
a charity event about three years ago. As a result I discovered my neighborhood
beauty salon, hair stylist and go-to manicurist/pedicurist.
I am a latecomer to the
beauty salon and its treats.
Over the decades it was tough
finding someone to cut and style my hair. Most stylists had difficulty taming
my thick, curly mane. When I found someone, she (once it was a he) either:
- * got married and
left town,
- * got pregnant and
quit the business for a few years,
- * got fired for
unknown reasons,
- * the salon went
out of business and the stylist relocated to another salon miles from my home,
- * retired,
- * or I moved.
And when the inevitable time came to color the gray,
I did it myself. For years. Eventually the task became overwhelming and dye got
all over the bathroom. It sometimes stains.
Now a stylist colors my hair.
As for nails, I did my own for
years, and not very well. Usually I did not do anything. My nails were just there. They always chip and
break, yet manicurists tell me they are strong and in excellent health. I wish
my doctor said the same about the rest of my body…
Hub was ignorant of the
whole nail thing before I became a regular. The first time he noticed a sign
proclaiming ‘Nails’ he thought it was a hardware store.
Women have always desired
pretty nails. Trimmed and polished nails have been a symbol of wealth and
aristocracy since ancient times. The Egyptians and Indians (from India the
country, not native Americans) polished their nails with henna. Any color
sanctioned by Egyptian royalty was not allowed to grace the nails of common
folk. Legend asserts Cleopatra sported red nails.
Long nails were a status
symbol in China, distinguishing the non-working upper classes from toiling common
folk. Nail color disclosed a woman’s status. Gold and silver indicated royalty,
while commoners were limited to pale colors.
The quest for beautiful nails
became an obsession in certain European circles during the nineteenth century.
Manicures gained popularity
in the U.S. in the 1920s with the invention of practical nail care instruments
and nail polish.
Nail care became a requirement
for the fashion conscious.
Pedicures were a late
arrival on the nail care scene, probably because open toed shoes were not worn frequently
and long skirts, socks and stockings masked ugly feet. And pedicures – as well as manicures - were
expensive.
But the linking of cheap
labor and a smart American woman changed everything.
One solution to lowering
costs is outsourcing jobs overseas. But there are jobs problematic to
outsource.
It is difficult to ship our
nails overseas.
A much-maligned war and a
Hollywood actress solved the dilemma by providing affordable manicures and
pedicures for women (and men, too) right here in the good ole USA.
It all began when thousands
of Vietnamese refugees entered the U.S. following the fall of Saigon in 1975,
marking the end of the Vietnam War.
Tippi Hedren, actress (remember
Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds?) and
philanthropist, visited a refugee camp in California representing the
charitable organization Food for the Hungry. She knew the immigrants needed working
skills fast, preferably an occupation where knowledge of the English language
was not essential. The women admired Hedren’s long, beautifully polished nails,
and she realized these women could quickly learn manicure skills. She provided
training and helped the refugees secure jobs.
The rest, as the saying
goes, is history. The Vietnamese converted a luxury only a
minority could enjoy into a reasonably priced habit most American women could afford.
By 2012, 80% of manicurists
in California were Vietnamese, and 45% throughout the country were Vietnamese.
Eventually low priced salons
reached my town, and I took advantage of the opportunity to obtain and sustain decent
nails.
Good for the economy and
immigrants, bad for traditional salon professionals, the debate rages. But
times change…
Meanwhile, I confess my
manicurist is not of Vietnamese heritage. Born and raised in Turkey,
daughter of an American father and Turkish mother, she went to beauty school
when arriving in the U.S. at the tender age of 20. She now owns a salon.
And she does a great job. I
am happy, she is happy, and that is what it is all about.
I will continue to pump cash
into the economy, although not as frequently as my manicurist would like.
But we regularly keep in
touch.
And who needs a pedicure in
the North over the winter? I wear really cute socks.
I did not know that about Tippi Hedren...always good to start my day by learning something new. I enjoy a mani-pedi once in a while, but it is not a part of my regular routine. Also, I usually stop short of the application of polish--to the complete befuddlement of some nail techs.
ReplyDeleteMy nails are also strong and healthy and fast growing and I resent the heck out of the time I spend keeping them short and groomed. A better person would just be grateful.
I have had the occasional pedicure, and only once a manicure. My nails are just there. I didn't know that about Tippi Hedren, what a great story! And she was right. What a difference she made in the lives of millions. :-)
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about a stylist for curly hair. I usually look for a curly-haired woman with a good cut and ask who she sees. Then I call. One of my stylists ran away with her drug dealer!
ReplyDeleteYou hit the nail (ahem!!) on the head: I always feel guilty when I'm sitting there and some other woman is slaving away over my feet.
ReplyDeleteHowever. . .I do get pedicures once in a great while - usually through a gift certificate - and it often feels like a medical necessity because my feet get dry and cracked and it takes a good pedicure to smooth everything down.
My fingernails stay bare. I'm too hard on them and thus have no patience for color.
A very nice story. I did not know Tippi had been so engaged with the Vietnamese community in the U.S. My hair stylist is a refugee from Lebanon. I have had manicurists from all over, only they were pedicurists. I have weak nails and never went for the acrylic kind.
ReplyDelete