Vogue Nails a Pain-Free Manicure Treat

I have a secret. A secret which has followed me all my life and caused me endless embarrassment. It has been noticed by teachers, parents, babysitters and friends.

I bite my nails.

I bite my nails when I'm nervous, when I'm anxious, when I'm trying to remember something, when I'm waiting in line or when I'm making lists in my head. I bite them without noticing and without thinking.

And that's not all. My nails break constantly. The act of reaching for a doorknob or pulling my computer out of its case often has injurious consequences for me. Even turning the car keys in the ignition can end in a screech of pain, followed by a quick assessment of how bad the break is and how long I can hide it for. The answer is usually not for long, and then I'm plagued with self-consciousness until the other nine nails are likewise reduced.

Which brings me back to my original problem. I bite my nails.

I have tried several solutions over time, like using special nail polish or chewing gum to prevent biting, and using strengthening polish to prevent breaks. It never works for long.

So I'm trying a different tactic now. For the first time in my life, I'm going to make an effort to get regular manicures and see if just having painted nails that need maintenance doesn't kick me of the habit once and for all.

Over the next few months, I will get manicures at local nail salons in Chatham (where I work) and Madison (where I live). It's not the Tour de France, it's a quest for the Best Main Street Manicure.

The name is a little misleading, since I will visit salons throughout the towns and not just on Main Street. For my first stop, I went to at 4 S. Passaic Ave. in Chatham Borough.

A Painless Experience

What struck me the most about this manicure was how painless it was. Part of the reason I bite my nails is because I regard the nail clipper as a torture device in the same category as the eyelash curler. But beauty is pain, as they say, and I always thought that while the overall experience of a manicure is relaxing, there are always those few moments of excruciation.

Not so at Vogue Nails. The stylist was extremely gentle and light, so much so that sometimes I wasn't entirely sure she was there at all. I barely felt a thing as she clipped nails and cut away cuticles, usually the worst parts of a manicure.

The range of colors for nail polish was rather limited, I thought. There was a large shelf with many bottles, but all the colors looked, at least to my untrained eye, pretty much identical to the one next to it.

Once I chose a color – a bright, almost Barbie-like pink – I remember being shocked at how quickly the beautician seemed to throw on the layers: undercoat, first color coat, second color coat, top coat. I have had bad manicures before where the beautician was so anxious to finish with all the customers that the job ended up rushed and slipshod, with the telltale bubbles of air poking up to the surface.

The bubbles, though, never materialized. The color stayed smooth and clean, and in the blink of an eye I was sitting at the drying station.

A friend soon joined me in the next chair, where she proceeded to do that thing that all women do sooner or later during a manicure. She brushed her freshly-painted nail against the magazine in her lap as she tried to turn the page.

This might be a good time for some background.

On some level I still compare every manicure to the worst one I ever received, the night of my senior prom. The place was crowded with women waiting for their turn. Even though I had an appointment, I was made to wait over 40 minutes. The stylist, I am reasonably confident, forgot that people come attached to the nails she cuts and styles, and the first part of the manicure was punctuated by a regular chorus of "Ows" from me. 

Crowded as the place was, the stylist grabbed the wrong bottle of polish to paint my nails with. She was half way done with one hand before I noticed, and had to start again.

When bubbles appeared on the nails of one hand even before the stylist had finished with the other hand, I asked her to do it over again. She said something in a language I didn't understand, but her tone was universal. Her second attempt was even more rushed and sloppy than the first.

When there were still bubbles on my nails after the second try, I'd been in the salon for nearly two hours. I hurriedly paid and went to the prom with my hands curled into fists so no one would notice.

After my friend at Vogue Nails scuffed a finger, two different stylists came over to examine it. They at once brought out the remover, and rather than paint it right away, they recommended to her that she dry the other nails first. Someone came over twice more to check on her progress and paint the nail, and then to check on her again. She did brush the same finger up against something again, and for a third time had her nail painted. Not once did they express any impatience with her or seem to treat that one nail with any less regard than they had the complete set of 10.

As for my own manicure, the color is still vibrant, though at six days old it is starting to show some light chipping. And as I look down at my fingernails, there is no involuntary shudder of pain.

The manicure also included a hand massage and a shoulder rub, not the best but definitely not the worst. I also got a pedicure, which looks flawless after a week, and included a leg massage with aloe vera freshly extracted straight from the plant.

Place: Vogue Nails, 4 S. Passaic Ave., Chatham Borough

Cost: A manicure is $12, a pedicure is $25, both are $35. The salon also offers waxing at various prices.

Impression: Clean store, friendly staff, not many fumes. The color is still on a week after this pain-free manicure.

Overall Grade: A. Definitely worth a return visit. Consider bringing your own polish if you are looking for something out of the ordinary, though.