Fire Engine Red

This is the next post I prepared while away

On Saturday night I talked about being dressed up to the nines, for me this included nail polish. Regular readers will know about my love of polished nails.   Even when my nails are a little shorter than I would like nicely coloured nails are for me the epitome of femininity.    So on Saturday evening I was sat down with a bottle of nail polish and twenty bare nails.   It was only after I had painted all twenty that it struck me that the colour I had selected from my (far too large) collection was to all intents and purposes the same as the colour my Mother used to use on the rare occasions she dressed up.

When I was small it seemed to me that my Mother was a figure of absolute elegance and just a touch of glamour.   Certainly she had some very nice designer (or as they were known then “Model”) clothes.   Compared to these days both ladies and gentlemen had a lot less clothes, but very often what they did have was of better quality.   I remember Mum had one particularly nice grey woollen dress and coat suit that was of the first quality and wearing it she looked a million dollars.   On special occasions Mum would wear nail polish, and it was always that bright crimson colour so ingrained on my mind, I never remember her wearing any other colour!   I currently have something like nine or ten different colours.

Why do I remember this colour so vividly, was I even then wed to nail polish, no it is because it was Mum’s nail polish we used to re-paint our matchbox fire engines!

 

The scarlet colour had to be removed before I went in to see Mum early afternoon on Sunday, however I decided to push my luck and replaced it with a pearl polish, I also wore a mauve shirt blouse and some white high waisted baggy white linen trousers, along with some open toe low heel pumps which showed my bright red toe nails.   I knew that Mum would not notice anything amiss, but it was quite fun watching others having an internal debate as they noted my presentation.   I find that I have been increasingly pushing the boundaries, but effectively this was full femme apart from makeup and boobs.   I wonder what would happen (probably nothing) if I wore one of my favourite dresses but no make up, who would notice? who would care?