Since long before Sex And The City hit our tellyboxes, I have had a serious hankering to live in New York for a year. The closest I've gotten to realising that little fantasy so far is three months in Chicago on the J1, but sure it's a start. From a beauty slut's point of view, the city that never sleeps is pretty much the greatest destination on the planet, with a Sephora on every other corner and a nail bar on... well, every other other corner. A big part of my New York daydream involves having perfectly manicured talons at all times (well you'd have to, wouldn't you?), but since there's no sign of a move in my future, I decided to at least make an effort with the nails.
So I took myself off to Mink's Donnybrook salon for their €15 file and polish last Wednesday lunchtime. After assessing the condition of my nails (in a word, brutal), my manicurist's diagnosis was that they flake becuase they're dehydrated and crack waaaaay down the edges because they're weak. She prescribed dousing them with oil as often as humanly possible to moisturise, which will help to prevent flaking by binding the layers of the nail together. She also recommended a conditioning protein treatment to strengthen them, but didn't go for the awful hard sell on products that so many therapists favour.
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My nails were briskly filed into tidy squovals, and gently buffed to remove existing flakiness - the advice was to only gently buff my nails very occasionally to get rid of these pesky flakes and prevent more severe peeling of the layers. A protein basecoat, two layers of Essie's 'Bermuda Shorts' and a super-shiny topcoat of 'Super Duper' later, my nails looked feckin' NY fabilis.
And, it has to be said, they still do - even after I Cillit Bang-ed the bathroom yesterday with no gloves on. Not too bloody shabby!
