I was on holiday last week, enjoying a night out as you do. The restaurant was heaving, the food was delish, the wine was chilled and I leaned back in my chair and admired my new nail varnish colour.
"What are you looking at" asked the husband "Your nails is it?"
"Mmm" I said. "I got a new colour - it's nice isn't it?"
Though even as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. When on earth have men ever shown any interest whatsoever in nail varnish colour. Why wasn't I alert to the possibility of slagging?
"Eh yeah" he said "Did you put it on in the dark?"
Advertised
"What? What do you mean? Is it horrible?"
"It's eh... like something a blind man would put on. Look at the state of it!"
And it was true. I had hurriedly put it on that evening before going out while we were watching Mad Men. So I totally and utterly blame Don Draper for the missed bits, for the skin that was painted and for the unaccountable half painted nails on the right hand.
I had to laugh. And be thankful that the lights in the restaurant were dim.
