Toenails are God’s little joke on men.
Unlike women who luxuriate in pedicures, men are tough. We manage our own nail care. Bending and straining to clip them until something bad happens. An ingrown toenail. Foot fungus. Falling arches. And then we rush to the podiatrist. Because that’s where men go to manage issues with their feet. Toenails eventually get clipped—but by a professional with a degree.
For men who live mostly in colder climates, and therefore rarely expose their feet, there’s little hope. If you check out those toenails, and I have seen a few, they’re in horrible shape. Too long, too dark and too crusty. I won’t go on—but trust me—it’s disgusting.
I used to live in Michigan so I know all about hiding your feet. Wearing socks to bed isn’t always about staying warm. But living in Phoenix, a hot weather climate, toes are on display much of the year. In the summer, everyone wears flip-flops and sandals. We walk around barefoot. We go swimming.
You are the toes that cling to you.
So, I’ve finally given in. I’ve become a regular at my neighborhood nail salon. Every month or so, I sit in a chair, read the latest issue of People, and soak my feet in hot water. I’ve come to admire the women who have made my toenails look decent. Clipping, scrubbing, buffing—giggling at my discomfort as they remove calluses with what appears to be a cheese grater. And I’ve been amazed at the transformation.
Finally, my feet are presentable. With regular pedicures, toenails can indeed be your friend. Who knew?