She's nailed it

Lately I have been painting my fingernails almost daily. In a little round white leather case I keep close to me cotton wool, nail varnish remover, base coat, a file and polish. Keeping them neat makes me feel polished and changing the colour perks me up and styles me out.

My latest faves are a stunning shimmery red from OPI's Valentine's collection, gloriously entitled Log on to Love; Barry M's navy which is painfully untitled (only cruelly numbered, almost branded) and the battleship grey that Sophie Ellis Bextor wore on Buzzcocks. I think that might be one of Barry's, I must pick up a bottle asap.

I'd like my part time job to be official namer of varnishes - is there anything more wonderful than the fact that OPI called one of their beautiful blues Yoga-ta Get This Blue ["Make this deep dark blue your fashion mantra"]? Though when you look at the rest of the names of their India collection, the overall effect is - well, reductive, to put it mildly. Despite this, I am a total OPI convert. The brush is the perfect width when it splays out on your nail, and the drippy pigmented polish dries speedily and seems to be impatient-proof. The same cannot be said for my favourite NARS shade, Gimme Shelter, which tarnishes with fabric scuffs from my eggshell bedsheets, despite hours of drying. I blame base coat.

Of course, if I were a New Yorker, native or otherwise, I would not have a glimmer of this problem. Dashing Diva would be there for me, $10 impeccable manicures would be mine, mine, mine. Why haven't the Brits caught up? I think we'd rather be chipped, eccentric, a little bit grunge. Ew. The closest we get to a cheap mini mani on the go is Nails Inc, where they rarely think to suggest you pay before they paint, and where they hurry you out so you smudge. Shocking.