Once a month for the past three years, I’ve gotten my nails done. It’s my favorite form of self-care. I go to the nail salon, get a break from my mundane schedule, and surrender all responsibilities to my nail technician.Â
Back home, I was a regular at my salon, but I knew they hated to see me coming. Without fail, I’d come in requesting some design — the designs weren’t meticulously detailed, but they were enough to make someone “ooh” and “ah” — one tech would construct my nail’s acrylic base, while a different tech would do the designing. I’d always leave with about $80 less, a fabulous coffin-shaped set, and a smile from ear to ear.
It’s silly and trivial to some, but if not for my acrylics, a part of me would not exist. From a young age, I realized you don’t have to have confidence if you’re a good actor. I don’t know exactly how, but by the time I entered high school, I had the confidence of a wealthy White man. I’ve heard method actors employ this tactic, so I morphed into this girl who could wear, say, and do anything she wanted (within reason, duh). With nails, I became an actor.
For my 16th birthday, I got acrylics for the first time. The nails were short and square-shaped with a white base and small pink flowers. Looking back at the photos, I stifle gags because of the length. Oh, and I have perpetual baby hands — meaning that my hands are super short and stubby, or ‘nubs’ as my mom loves to call them. I need long nails because they give the illusion that my fingers aren’t two centimeters long and are a conventional length. Eventually, I progressed to the current stunning length many call claws.
When IÂ started getting my nails done, I kept them short, even though I hated how they looked on my hands. I was scared to change my manicure because of others and their unwelcome comments. People often told me long acrylics were ‘trashy’ and made a girl look ‘like a hooker’ to possible suitors. I also didn’t feel like being labeled ‘ghetto’ by those loud, rednecks at my high school. I just had to remember that if I didn’t want to be affected by others’ opinions, I had to become an actor. So my nails got longer, and my confidence got stronger.
Although I became unphased by other people’s consistent comments, they never stopped coming. To this day, I get asked, “how do you *insert literally any action here* with those nails?” at least once a week (and my nails are not even that long!). Ironically, it’s become much more difficult to function without my claws.
Nevertheless, I frequently think back to when I confined myself to short nails for others’ comfort. By the way, my mom is never included when I’m speaking about other people. She has only ever supported my nail journey. I am so grateful the woman I am today was born into a family where rebellion was anticipated and protected. But why did it take so long to realize I loved long nails?
First emerging in the 1950s, what we know as acrylic nails were the accidental inventions of a dentist named Frederick Slack. From there, through the 1970s and 80s, they were a token of Black women. Oppositely, as far back as 3000 B.C. in ancient China, long nails and nail jewelry symbolized wealth and power. Yet, our society “…sneered at “fake” nails and considered them a sign of being low-class.” Eventually, icons emerged on the scene. In 1966, Donyale Luna was the first Black woman on the cover of Vogue and wore acrylics. The fastest woman ever recorded, Florence Griffith-Joyner, Flo-Jo, had nails as she set world records. In the ’90s, Coko from SWV was known for sporting her claws. In 1998, in the music video for “What’s It Gonna Be?!”, Janet Jackson had pierced acrylic nails. Sha’ Carri Richardson, one of the world’s fastest female sprinters, continues to break records with a stylish set.
All that said, long, decorated acrylic nails, as we know them today, are the creative product of Black women. Nails ” …like cornrows and wigs, or even bee-stung lips and big bums long, colourful acrylic nails are the next in line of once negatively viewed assets of a marginalised group to go mainstream.” The question surrounding whether acrylic nails are cultural appropriation is a topic that will consistently be up for debate, but give Black women their flowers.
I don’t care what skin color, gender, sexuality or anything else you are; if you want to rock some hot-pink stiletto acrylics, get them done and send me a photo! But first, we, as a society, must acknowledge how Black women were the pioneers of this once ‘ghetto’ style.
In a culture like our country’s, especially in rural Louisiana, where it’s easier to label women rather than speaking with them, I think it was understandable that it took my entire life to comprehend my love for acrylics.Â
Now, I know my nails are not just nails. My nails are my safety blanket. My nails are a part of my self-care routine. My nails allow me to become an actor and shapeshift into the most confident woman I know, even on my worst days. However, they do not define my identity as a Black woman; they enhance my Blackness. Now, each time I notice a stranger’s curious glance or receive a backhanded compliment regarding my nails, I will carry the confidence of all those strong Black women that came before me.