Keratin

Every, oh, year or so, I get the compulsion to paint my nails.  More often if I watch Bound.  So last night, looking at the creepiest way you can paint your nails (your exact skin color, matte--"mannequin hands") I got the bug and painted my nails with Urban Decay in Burnout.

If this looks like a terrible manicure to you, that is a true impression based on facts.  Some blame must lie with the polish itself, which was the worst possible combination of sheer, viscous, and quick to reach a half-dry state where the top layer can be torn away with the brush.  This may be down to the fact that it is, I would estimate, ten years old.  Most of the blame, however, is mine, as I have the nail-painting skills of someone who paints nails around once a year.

Having doubly coated them and waited two and a half hours, I was super pleased to have successfully removed my jeans without destroying my good work.  Somehow I always seem to be wearing jeans on these occasions, with their heavy canvas, uncooperative buttons, and embedded zips.  So I got them off successfully and I was so proud, running around the room and pumping my fists in the air.  Anyway, that was when I had to put sheets on my bed, and, well, carnage.

This morning, I arduously peeled all that stuff off and repainted them with a color of my own devising, a combination of my Aromaleigh foundation (chosen to neutralize pink tones in my face), a scoop of brick-toned powder blush, some body glitter (I don't know what became of this) and some drugstore clear topcoat.  It's...pretty matte, all right, but too light and yellowy-beige.  I need to think of Zora Neale Hurston's description of white ladies' hands in Dust Tracks on the Road, pale but pink at the tips like orchids. 

UPDATE: IMPROVED RESULT

Mixed two scoops Meow Cosmetics Inquisitive Mau (ugh) with one scoop Medusa's Makeup Pompeii. Tone and finish are just right, but it's a little too pink.  Next time Pennywise instead, I think.