Here she is, Lana by Zoya from the Reverie collection. Feast your eyes on the metallic duochrome red with a hint of orange.
It was not easy getting these nails. Oh no, I was pooped the eff out after working 15 days straight and thought I would pay someone to paint them for me and tame the jungle that was my cuticles. I was too late to make it to my regular place so I looked on Yelp and found a nail place with a five-star rating and two very pleasant reviews.
I should have known the reviews were a sham. They both mentioned the cleanliness and while it wasn’t dirty it wasn’t worthy of the praise it received online. I should have walked out when she had me soak my hands in cold water. Seriously, cold ass water without any soak added. But no, I stayed. I should have given her a hell-to-the-no when she tried to talk me into gel nails. Noooo, not this girl. I had to be polite, so I nicely declined over and over and over and asked her to paint my nails the color I brought.
She didn’t ask me the shape I wanted my nails or the length and filed my Betty Draper’s down to the core on my right hand. There was polish all around my nails after she completed two coats, but I didn’t worry. I figured she would make like the lady at my other place and use a brush and some remover later to fix it up. There is still some left in the crevices that even I couldn’t get off. I seriously should have stood up when she brought out the top coat though. It was so thick and crusty that as she painted the center of each nail, (please note, she skipped the sides) huge strings of top coat followed the brush creating peaks that meringue would envy.
I would guess the top coat was at least 2 mm thick, no exaggeration. I waited for it to dry for a bit but then I saw it was futile. I asked her to fix the worst nail and she told me not to move and to let it dry. It was then I decided to quit trying to speak up and to throw the towel in and get the hell out of there because she had been silently FARTING the entire time. Farting. It stank ass.
I paid and even though my BF could do better. Hell, my 3 year-old niece could do better. I left a tip under 20% for the first time ever in my life. Then to top things off, she straight up asked me if that was all I wanted to leave as a tip! My head almost exploded.
I should have asked for my money back because that is 30 minutes of my life that I will never get back. Thirty fart-filled minutes. I know, wah. I had to repaint them myself. I don’t know if there is a moral to the story besides, stay away from Serenity Nails or else you will be chanting SERENITY NOW over and over again.