"Gross!" After more than two decades, I confronted my bare toenails for the first time. And I did not like what I saw. Like shaving my legs, I considered painting my toenails required grooming. I suddenly felt naked without polish.
Sure, I had seen my toenails peeping through chipped polish, but they were never completely bare. I would get a fresh pedicure for any occasion that required open-toe shoes or bare feet. Weddings, poolside weekends, and basically the entire Summer provided plenty of excuses to try out the latest nail polish colour trends [1], and I'd had enough Winter beach getaways or hot tub outings to keep my toes legit during the cold season.
Why I Quit
Why did I decide to stop painting my toenails after more than 20 years? Well, I didn't. The choice was made for me. At 39 weeks pregnant, I read the preparation materials given to me by my hospital. The checklist stated that I should remove any nail polish from my fingers and toes. Apparently, nail polish can hinder a doctor's ability to monitor your well-being and could also interfere with finger probes. This could be especially important if you need a C-section [2].
Nail polish often contains toxic ingredients, and I hadn't given my poor toes a break from them since the '90s.
I know plenty of pregnant women who do the opposite, pampering themselves with fresh mani-pedis in the days before their due dates. Their nails look gorgeous clutching their newborns in those first postlabour photos. But as a lifelong rule follower, I removed my nail polish like my hospital told me to. (Well, my husband helped me take off my toenail polish since I couldn't bend over.)
While it wasn't strange to see bare hands, I couldn't even recognise my feet. My toenails looked scary. They were white and uneven. Nail polish often contains toxic ingredients [3], and I hadn't given my poor toes a break from them since the '90s.
Once I got home with a new baby, however, I had little time to worry about my toenails. Finding time to paint them or get a pedicure wasn't happening. Plus, it was November. I was safe from anyone seeing them . . . for a few months.
Natural Is Beautiful
Before I knew it, it was June, and I had a Summer wedding on my calendar. I had to make a decision. Would I go bare or paint my toes? My instinct: if I was going to show up to a wedding in open-toe heels and with bare toes, I might as well not shave my armpits [4]. To me, it felt like the same type of statement — that I rejected society's expectations of female grooming. Was I ready to do that? I'm a beauty junkie! I hadn't stopped painting my nails because I wanted to make a political point.
I now feel empowered to reject the idea that women's natural bodies aren't enough.
But now that I thought about it, it was crazy that I felt pressure to hide something as innocuous as my natural toenails. And after a few months of being able to breathe, they looked healthy. What was the big deal?
I decided if anyone was shocked by my unpainted toes, that was their problem. Not that I couldn't relate. Just a year before, I'm sure I would have done a double take if I saw a woman all dressed up with bare toes. But I had changed.
Embracing my unpolished toenails aligns with my dedication to clean makeup [5]. I now feel empowered to reject the idea that women's natural bodies aren't enough. It also saves me time and money. I no longer have to fit in a pedicure when I know my toes will be out. Although I do plan to get one soon without the polish. Who can resist a foot massage?