My Grandmother playing the piano: Her dark red nail polish was chipped on the thumbs, from fishing and her pointer fingers from playing cards. But her fingers still looked long and graceful while she played. Her huge rings would nearly blind you as they caught the light of the piano lamp. It always smelled like burning firewood, fresh flowers, her perfume, sometimes gin and cigarette smoke.
-Salyntha

My REAL girl is my toes and feet. I think a pretty set of feet can define you as feminine or not. When my feet are pretty I feel pretty, when my toes are painted I feel feminine. I can see little girls toes painted pink with sparkles. A young woman with toe rings and anklets. A woman with her red toes wrapped in her husbands feet.

If you were to only see the feet of two people you would immediately know which was the woman because we ALL decorate our feet. It defines us for what we are. Lovers of beauty.
-Cannwin

It’s colorless, but its odor was and is always so potent. Clear nail polish, the top-coat stuff, is my defining moment. When I was a little girl, I watched my mother paint her perfectly manicured nails a deep shade of red every Sunday before church. I would always ask her if she could paint my nails that color. But because I was too young, I wasn’t allowed, and was always rejected. One Sunday, my mother had asked me to go into the medicine cabinet to grab her the signature red color nail polish and a clear one. I had never seen her use the clear one. I brought them both over to her and asked her about the clear polish. She explained to me that it is normally used to make the color stay shiny. But today, she was putting it on my nails so I could have them painted but not with an obnoxious color for a little girl. I was ecstatic. I remember attending church and being very aware of how shiny my nails were with all the lights shining down and also walking with my hands in front of me so not to mess up the polish. It was at that moment when I felt like a grown little girl.
-Olivia

Red nail polish is what did it for me. I was raised as a tomboy by a tomboy. It wasn't until the last 4-5 years that I figured it was okay to be a girl and that, gasp, I kind of liked it. And it all started with painting my toenails Hollywood scarlet. Imagine that.
-Deb