The day I wore nail wraps for the first time (as a guy)

This post is based on a true story – my true story. I am sharing my story with you in hopes that your laughter (or frowns) could make my horrid experience seem a little more worthwhile.

I work on the social media team for INNI Nails, alongside four lovely ladies. Nail art is not exactly my area of expertise, but I do enjoy my work. It is a good opportunity for me to hone my skills in communication as I support the growth of a new start-up.

At our team meeting a couple of days ago, I was tasked to do a write-up on how easy and convenient it is to use nail wraps. “But I don’t even use them!” I raised my concern immediately. There were times when my teammates casually forgot what my gender was, and this was one of them.

 “Why don’t you try wearing them for a day? You need to at least know how your product works before you can market them,” Jane (not her real name) suggested teasingly. Before I could even comment on how outrageous that was, the other three girls were already in unanimous agreement. Four against one. Oppressed by the majority, I had no choice but to comply.

Though Jane’s suggestion was a valid one, I could not bring myself to accept it. The next day, my masculinity pleaded for help as I chose the nail wrap that I least hated.

 I had to settle for a plain pink - the other nail wraps had flowery patterns.

Thumbs up for my pink thumb!

All done! Can you see my tear stain on the picture?

Weird. That was the only word in my vocabulary that I could think of to describe my feelings then. I felt so weird.  My hands looked foreign to me - it seemed as if someone had replaced mine with some else's, a female's. And it certainly did not help that my fingers were naturally long and slender, and my nails well trimmed. 

Everything about my demeanour was unnatural that day. I consciously averted the gaze of passers-by who might or might not have seen my nails. I cringed at my pretty thumb while I used my iPhone. I looked at my nails frequently, each time hoping to convince myself that they looked acceptable on me. They did not.

I found a seat on the train, and sighed silently. The last time I had a painted nail was about a year ago. My girlfriend was doing up her nails then, and she thought it would be cute for me to have a pink pinkie. Since it was only one nail, I was barely affected and I simply left the nail polish there till it chipped off on its own. But this time, it was different. I had TEN pink nails. One pink nail might be cute; ten pink nails would raise eyebrows everywhere.

Judged. Yet another word in my vocabulary that could aptly describe my feelings. An elderly man who was sitting on my right saw my hands, and gave me the most judgmental look of my life. I forced myself to act natural, as though painted nails on guys was the latest trend in fashion.

That evening, I met my girlfriend at her place and told her what happened. She laughed, held my hand, and said "Look! We match, right?"

I leave it to you to decide. I bet you can't even tell which hand in the photograph is mine.

Written by: JJ Wu