Weekend Funnies

Ok - just as few things to touch on before I get to the videos -

One - I'm moving in two weeks and some of my stuff is being sold on my friend's ebay store. So if you're in Melbourne and are in need of a fridge, washer, tumble dryer, sofa, TV (analog) or TV cabinet-y thing, head over here. All proceeds to go me getting the hell out of this country.

Two - Hyperbole and a Half is one of the funniest blogs I've ever read. I highly suggest you get yourself over there - you'll laugh till you wee yourself a little bit.

Now, on with the show!

This is hands-down one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time. It starts off kind of puerile, then gets Awesome. Then gets Awesomier. Then gets WTFBBQ...



I love you, Andy Samberg. You make me happy. I spent my shift at work today fantasising about punching the eating people walking by. It was great :)

Uniting two superpowers of Nerd-dom -



Kinda scary how well those two shows go together...

And finally - this is something for the Aussies. Who remembers Bargearse?

For those uninitiated, it was part of legendary skit show "The Late Show" back 1992/93, and was basically an overdubbed, chopped up piss-take of the 70's cop show "Bluey". When you see the footage, you'll see why making fun was like shooting fish in a barrel...



As you can see - the show's all class (language warning)...



His talent at solving crime was only rivalled by his music career -



And who can forget the "Many Moods of Bargearse" album? And that fart rally...



Ah, the 70's. They weren't kind to anyone in any country, were they? :D

Weekend Funnies

Ok - just as few things to touch on before I get to the videos -

One - I'm moving in two weeks and some of my stuff is being sold on my friend's ebay store. So if you're in Melbourne and are in need of a fridge, washer, tumble dryer, sofa, TV (analog) or TV cabinet-y thing, head over here. All proceeds to go me getting the hell out of this country.

Two - Hyperbole and a Half is one of the funniest blogs I've ever read. I highly suggest you get yourself over there - you'll laugh till you wee yourself a little bit.

Now, on with the show!

This is hands-down one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time. It starts off kind of puerile, then gets Awesome. Then gets Awesomier. Then gets WTFBBQ...



I love you, Andy Samberg. You make me happy. I spent my shift at work today fantasising about punching the eating people walking by. It was great :)

Uniting two superpowers of Nerd-dom -



Kinda scary how well those two shows go together...

And finally - this is something for the Aussies. Who remembers Bargearse?

For those uninitiated, it was part of legendary skit show "The Late Show" back 1992/93, and was basically an overdubbed, chopped up piss-take of the 70's cop show "Bluey". When you see the footage, you'll see why making fun was like shooting fish in a barrel...



As you can see - the show's all class (language warning)...



His talent at solving crime was only rivalled by his music career -



And who can forget the "Many Moods of Bargearse" album? And that fart rally...



Ah, the 70's. They weren't kind to anyone in any country, were they? :D

Nubar Violet Sparkle

You know, the words OMGWTFBBQ! get bandied around a lot these days, but never before has the term been more apt.

I am just in awe of this baby -


How does such gorgeousness exist in the world without causing a short-fuse?

Typical of most of the Nubar Sparkles, I needed one coat of purple polish underneath just to make it opaque faster (previous Sparkles polishes have required 4 coats, and then the tips have receded when I've put the fast-drying top-coat over the top), and a layer of Poshe to seal it all nicely.


Agh! It does my head in! So gorg!
I think I need to go sit down for awhile...

Nubar Violet Sparkle

You know, the words OMGWTFBBQ! get bandied around a lot these days, but never before has the term been more apt.

I am just in awe of this baby -


How does such gorgeousness exist in the world without causing a short-fuse?

Typical of most of the Nubar Sparkles, I needed one coat of purple polish underneath just to make it opaque faster (previous Sparkles polishes have required 4 coats, and then the tips have receded when I've put the fast-drying top-coat over the top), and a layer of Poshe to seal it all nicely.


Agh! It does my head in! So gorg!
I think I need to go sit down for awhile...

CC Power Play & N'fu #51

Ladies!
Do you have Color Club's Power Play?
Do you have N'fu Oh #51?
Then quick - go put #51 over Power Play - it will blow you away!
I'll wait here...


These crappy photos are the best I could manage with my crappy camera and don't do justice to the awesomeness this is.
Just try it.




NOW!

CC Power Play & N'fu #51

Ladies!
Do you have Color Club's Power Play?
Do you have N'fu Oh #51?
Then quick - go put #51 over Power Play - it will blow you away!
I'll wait here...


These crappy photos are the best I could manage with my crappy camera and don't do justice to the awesomeness this is.
Just try it.




NOW!

BYS Double Espresso

Ugh. Isn't it nice when you finally get a day or two off and then you spend it being sick? Couldn't it at least wait until a work day so you can chuck a sickie? Anyhoo - after a morning spent hugging the porcelain god, I'm up and reasonably alert :)

Winter is closing in on the southern hemisphere and accordingly, the shops are filling with dark autumn coloured clothes and for some reason we're supposed to use the same colours on our fingers. I don't subscribe to that way of thinking - I tend to go the opposite way and use brights to combat the grey weather.

Nevertheless, when Director David over at Fashion Addict sent me this to try, it brought to mind the beautiful autumn leaves that are on display in my neighbourhood (I'm at the foot of the Dandenong Ranges, and it's spectacular here)...

Double espresso is a kind of coffee colour, but it's got a rich coppery tinge to it that you don't really find in espresso...

This is two coats and a layer of Poshe. Lovely, creamy consistency, and it wears well. Another slam-dunk for BYS's new formula...

Fingers looking extra wrinkly, there. Time to break out the winter moisturisers...

I'm not even a big fan of browns, but this is just really classy, work safe, and a bit glam :)
I think FA has run out of this at the moment, as I can't find it on the website - but I'm sure if you check back soon they will have re-stocked. It usually retails for $3.95 Australian bazungas...

BYS Double Espresso

Ugh. Isn't it nice when you finally get a day or two off and then you spend it being sick? Couldn't it at least wait until a work day so you can chuck a sickie? Anyhoo - after a morning spent hugging the porcelain god, I'm up and reasonably alert :)

Winter is closing in on the southern hemisphere and accordingly, the shops are filling with dark autumn coloured clothes and for some reason we're supposed to use the same colours on our fingers. I don't subscribe to that way of thinking - I tend to go the opposite way and use brights to combat the grey weather.

Nevertheless, when Director David over at Fashion Addict sent me this to try, it brought to mind the beautiful autumn leaves that are on display in my neighbourhood (I'm at the foot of the Dandenong Ranges, and it's spectacular here)...

Double espresso is a kind of coffee colour, but it's got a rich coppery tinge to it that you don't really find in espresso...

This is two coats and a layer of Poshe. Lovely, creamy consistency, and it wears well. Another slam-dunk for BYS's new formula...

Fingers looking extra wrinkly, there. Time to break out the winter moisturisers...

I'm not even a big fan of browns, but this is just really classy, work safe, and a bit glam :)
I think FA has run out of this at the moment, as I can't find it on the website - but I'm sure if you check back soon they will have re-stocked. It usually retails for $3.95 Australian bazungas...

Weekend Funnies

I'm gonna tear the cantina up with this shit next karaoke night-

I frickin' HATE Celine Dion's music with a hatey-hate-hate, but her workout video is GOLD! (Thanks to Emma for this!)

The Celine Dion Workout - watch more funny videos

I know this one's been around for awhile, but Emma brought it to my attention again. I wonder if they managed to expunge those words from Pearl's vocab after filming -

The Landlord from Will Ferrell
<>
Have a good weekend - and to all the Aussies and Kiwis - have a good ANZAC long weekend :)

Weekend Funnies

I'm gonna tear the cantina up with this shit next karaoke night-

I frickin' HATE Celine Dion's music with a hatey-hate-hate, but her workout video is GOLD! (Thanks to Emma for this!)

The Celine Dion Workout - watch more funny videos

I know this one's been around for awhile, but Emma brought it to my attention again. I wonder if they managed to expunge those words from Pearl's vocab after filming -

The Landlord from Will Ferrell
<>
Have a good weekend - and to all the Aussies and Kiwis - have a good ANZAC long weekend :)

Australis Sweetpea

I think the flavour of this review can be summed up pretty well by telling you that when I couldn't remember the name of this polish, I had to go fish the bottle OUT OF MY BIN.

This would have to be one of the worst polishes it's ever been my misfortune to spend money on. I resent the whole $7.95 this cost me.

Oh, Sweetpea - how do I loathe you? Let me count the ways...

1. You invoke the name "Australia", yet have the audacity to be shite. FAIL

2. Three - THREE! Coats - and this is the best you could do -


Yeah. FAIL!

2. Best formula ever??

I really hate to think of what the formula was like before, then.
Did it dry to form a picture of Hitler?
FAIL!

3. How dare you present yourself in the form of my favourite colour ever, and then be so crap? Three watery, awful coats of goddamn failuresauce.
I have BYS's at half the cost of these that apply a million times better.

Sigh.
I couldn't wait to take this off. As you can see, I didn't even bother cleaning up the cuticles, I just documented the horror and got it the hell off my nails.

Maybe I got a dud bottle but oh, what a dud bottle it was!
I don't have the money to go buy another bottle just to check for quality consistency, so I don't think I'll be taking any more chances on these polishes.

Straight in the bin. Finito!

Australis Sweetpea

I think the flavour of this review can be summed up pretty well by telling you that when I couldn't remember the name of this polish, I had to go fish the bottle OUT OF MY BIN.

This would have to be one of the worst polishes it's ever been my misfortune to spend money on. I resent the whole $7.95 this cost me.

Oh, Sweetpea - how do I loathe you? Let me count the ways...

1. You invoke the name "Australia", yet have the audacity to be shite. FAIL

2. Three - THREE! Coats - and this is the best you could do -


Yeah. FAIL!

2. Best formula ever??

I really hate to think of what the formula was like before, then.
Did it dry to form a picture of Hitler?
FAIL!

3. How dare you present yourself in the form of my favourite colour ever, and then be so crap? Three watery, awful coats of goddamn failuresauce.
I have BYS's at half the cost of these that apply a million times better.

Sigh.
I couldn't wait to take this off. As you can see, I didn't even bother cleaning up the cuticles, I just documented the horror and got it the hell off my nails.

Maybe I got a dud bottle but oh, what a dud bottle it was!
I don't have the money to go buy another bottle just to check for quality consistency, so I don't think I'll be taking any more chances on these polishes.

Straight in the bin. Finito!

Phalanges of Terror! Part 5

Well I couldn't find any Weekend Funnies, so I thought I'd go ahead and post a small chapter (chaplet?) of "Phalanges", seeing as how I'm not making a lot of headway on a larger chunk.



For those of you uninitiated, you can see previous chapters listed on the right of the page.

Again - this is first draft quality, ie. pretty rough. Formatting probably all over the place - whatever! This is just for shits and giggles, as Austin Powers would say :)



And so, to our next thrilling installment of: (cue soap opera music)

“Phalanges of Terror: The Lucy Leighton Story”

Copyright Nixxy 2010 (And I do mean copyright - Writer's Guild member, so don't f*%k with me!)



*Although I've used some familiar names, the characters and their shenanigans have no relation to their namesake's real lives or personalities. So please don't get upset if a character named after you dates Spencer Pratt and dies of a rare form of ass cancer...

Blessed with the perfect pair of hands, young Lucy Leighton is plucked from obscurity and unemployment to be the spokes-model for LePurr Nail Polish.

Thrust suddenly to the dizzying heights of fame - can she survive in the cutthroat world of Australian hand-modelling?

Especially when it seems someone will literally kill for her job…

PART FIVE - “Marmoset Knock You Out”

“Work! Turn to the left. Work! Now turn to the right. Work! Sashay! Chante!”

The singing was getting louder and more insistent – jabbing into Lucy’s head. She growled and tried to roll, but her body wasn’t co-operating. Why wouldn’t it stop!? What the hell did Brooke think she was doing playing music so loud when she knew she had a hangover?

The song persisted, urging Lucy to “Do a twirl!”

“Fuck off!” she hissed, prying an eye open and regretting it immediately. Her face felt like it was on fire! She went to prop herself up with an arm, but it was wedged behind her back. Dammit – she’d fallen asleep on it and it’d gone numb! She tried the other arm, but no…that seemed to be stuck as well. Odd.

Grunting, she rolled over onto her stomach – expecting an arm to flop over with her. It didn’t. She wiggled her fingers and tried to twist her wrist – go no. She realised with horror that they’d been tied with something - then it all came back in an awful rush. Dinky running, and something rushing towards her face…

“Hell!’ she panted – eyes popping open. She wasn’t in bed at home – she was…where exactly? Craning her aching head up, she peered around blearily. She seemed to be lying on bland, hard carpet and could see the legs of what looked like a desk – and…where the flying fuck was that damn music coming from?

She panted – the pain really kicking in now she was trying to move – and rolled onto her side again. There was a large motivational poster of a helicopter silhouetted against a red sunset on the wall above her, and a cork pin-up board with what looked like office memos stuck to it. What the hell? Had she been kidnapped by Dilbert? Judging by his choice of music, he was-

The music suddenly cut out, mid stream. Lucy’s heart stopped. Was he coming to finish her off? She waited, ears screaming out for the slightest sound of footfall – but there was nothing.

“Work! Covergirl! Work it girl! Do a twirl!” - it started up again, making her jerk painfully.

“Shit!” she spat, then cursed herself for making too much noise. She waited for someone to approach. No one did.

Relaxing again, she tried to sit up, only to find her legs were tied as well.

“Perfect! Just perfect! I’m going to die in a cubicle listening to classic 90’s club music!” she thought. “Brooke would find this hysterical – Brooke loves this song…”

Suddenly her brain clicked into gear – Brooke! Brooke loved this song! Brooke was forever changing her mobile phone ring as a joke!

She wiggled her numb fingers into the back pocket of her jeans. Buried deep down was her phone! Her relief was so great she almost started crying. It took several minutes to dig the phone out, praying that whoever was ringing would keep doing so. It cut out, then started ringing immediately. Bless them! “Keep ringing, keep ringing!’ she muttered, hearing the thump of the phone hitting the floor. “Yes!”

She wiggled round until she was face down to the phone, and thanked God she’d gone for a touch pad instead of buttons! The display said “Brooke calling” and she frantically jabbed the “Answer” area with her nose.

“Help! Brooke – help!”

“Lucy! Where the hell have you been!? Do you know how long-“

“Shut up! I’ve been kidnapped! I’m tied up somewhere – I don’t know where!”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You were in the building…”

“I don’t think I am now! Someone knocked me on the head and I woke up here…”

“Geez – I’m amazed you don’t have brain damage! How many times have you been conked on the head now?”

“Focus Brooke! HELP. ME!”

“Err..er…er…er!”

Brooke was losing it. Lucy was really losing it.

“Call the police! Do something – anything!”

“Okay, okay!” Brooke panted, ”Someone call the police! Lucy’s been kidnapped!” she shouted. Lucy winced and laid her head next to the phone. She wanted to throw up so badly…

“Luce – someone’s ringing them now…” Brooke was saying – a hubbub of people talking urgently behind her voice. Someone said something indistinct and Brooke relayed it.

“Can you describe where you are?”

“Umm…” Lucy fought the wooziness and bile rising in her throat and craned her neck to look around again. “Office of some sort. There’s a helicopter in a sunset…” she tapered off, panting painfully.

There was a pause.

“Okaaay,” Brooke said slowly, “Okay, now don’t panic…but I think you’re in a Michael Bay film…”

“BROOKE!”

For a second Lucy thought her head injury had done something to her vocal chords, until Rock’s voice came over the phone and she realised it had been him admonishing her friend.

“Lucy – are you alright?”

“No I’m not! I’m tied up in an office somewhere and there’s a poster with a helicopter on it and a pinboard and that’s all I can see and I’m scared and vomity and my head hurts!” she cried.

“Helicopter…”

Lucy made a squeaky noise of assent and laid her head on the carpet.

“Lucy, I think I know where you are!”

“What?”

“Just stay put – I am coming for you, my litterl axolotl!”

“Eh?”

Lucy could hear running footsteps and fear jolted through her. This was it – Dilbert was coming to dismember her!

“Rock! Rock help! He’s coming!”

“Just hang on!”

The footsteps were almost upon her.

“ROCK!”

The door crashed open and Lucy screamed as a tall figure filled the doorway.

“My litterl Marmoset!” it cried.

“Rock!?”

Phalanges of Terror! Part 5

Well I couldn't find any Weekend Funnies, so I thought I'd go ahead and post a small chapter (chaplet?) of "Phalanges", seeing as how I'm not making a lot of headway on a larger chunk.



For those of you uninitiated, you can see previous chapters listed on the right of the page.

Again - this is first draft quality, ie. pretty rough. Formatting probably all over the place - whatever! This is just for shits and giggles, as Austin Powers would say :)



And so, to our next thrilling installment of: (cue soap opera music)

“Phalanges of Terror: The Lucy Leighton Story”

Copyright Nixxy 2010 (And I do mean copyright - Writer's Guild member, so don't f*%k with me!)



*Although I've used some familiar names, the characters and their shenanigans have no relation to their namesake's real lives or personalities. So please don't get upset if a character named after you dates Spencer Pratt and dies of a rare form of ass cancer...

Blessed with the perfect pair of hands, young Lucy Leighton is plucked from obscurity and unemployment to be the spokes-model for LePurr Nail Polish.

Thrust suddenly to the dizzying heights of fame - can she survive in the cutthroat world of Australian hand-modelling?

Especially when it seems someone will literally kill for her job…

PART FIVE - “Marmoset Knock You Out”

“Work! Turn to the left. Work! Now turn to the right. Work! Sashay! Chante!”

The singing was getting louder and more insistent – jabbing into Lucy’s head. She growled and tried to roll, but her body wasn’t co-operating. Why wouldn’t it stop!? What the hell did Brooke think she was doing playing music so loud when she knew she had a hangover?

The song persisted, urging Lucy to “Do a twirl!”

“Fuck off!” she hissed, prying an eye open and regretting it immediately. Her face felt like it was on fire! She went to prop herself up with an arm, but it was wedged behind her back. Dammit – she’d fallen asleep on it and it’d gone numb! She tried the other arm, but no…that seemed to be stuck as well. Odd.

Grunting, she rolled over onto her stomach – expecting an arm to flop over with her. It didn’t. She wiggled her fingers and tried to twist her wrist – go no. She realised with horror that they’d been tied with something - then it all came back in an awful rush. Dinky running, and something rushing towards her face…

“Hell!’ she panted – eyes popping open. She wasn’t in bed at home – she was…where exactly? Craning her aching head up, she peered around blearily. She seemed to be lying on bland, hard carpet and could see the legs of what looked like a desk – and…where the flying fuck was that damn music coming from?

She panted – the pain really kicking in now she was trying to move – and rolled onto her side again. There was a large motivational poster of a helicopter silhouetted against a red sunset on the wall above her, and a cork pin-up board with what looked like office memos stuck to it. What the hell? Had she been kidnapped by Dilbert? Judging by his choice of music, he was-

The music suddenly cut out, mid stream. Lucy’s heart stopped. Was he coming to finish her off? She waited, ears screaming out for the slightest sound of footfall – but there was nothing.

“Work! Covergirl! Work it girl! Do a twirl!” - it started up again, making her jerk painfully.

“Shit!” she spat, then cursed herself for making too much noise. She waited for someone to approach. No one did.

Relaxing again, she tried to sit up, only to find her legs were tied as well.

“Perfect! Just perfect! I’m going to die in a cubicle listening to classic 90’s club music!” she thought. “Brooke would find this hysterical – Brooke loves this song…”

Suddenly her brain clicked into gear – Brooke! Brooke loved this song! Brooke was forever changing her mobile phone ring as a joke!

She wiggled her numb fingers into the back pocket of her jeans. Buried deep down was her phone! Her relief was so great she almost started crying. It took several minutes to dig the phone out, praying that whoever was ringing would keep doing so. It cut out, then started ringing immediately. Bless them! “Keep ringing, keep ringing!’ she muttered, hearing the thump of the phone hitting the floor. “Yes!”

She wiggled round until she was face down to the phone, and thanked God she’d gone for a touch pad instead of buttons! The display said “Brooke calling” and she frantically jabbed the “Answer” area with her nose.

“Help! Brooke – help!”

“Lucy! Where the hell have you been!? Do you know how long-“

“Shut up! I’ve been kidnapped! I’m tied up somewhere – I don’t know where!”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You were in the building…”

“I don’t think I am now! Someone knocked me on the head and I woke up here…”

“Geez – I’m amazed you don’t have brain damage! How many times have you been conked on the head now?”

“Focus Brooke! HELP. ME!”

“Err..er…er…er!”

Brooke was losing it. Lucy was really losing it.

“Call the police! Do something – anything!”

“Okay, okay!” Brooke panted, ”Someone call the police! Lucy’s been kidnapped!” she shouted. Lucy winced and laid her head next to the phone. She wanted to throw up so badly…

“Luce – someone’s ringing them now…” Brooke was saying – a hubbub of people talking urgently behind her voice. Someone said something indistinct and Brooke relayed it.

“Can you describe where you are?”

“Umm…” Lucy fought the wooziness and bile rising in her throat and craned her neck to look around again. “Office of some sort. There’s a helicopter in a sunset…” she tapered off, panting painfully.

There was a pause.

“Okaaay,” Brooke said slowly, “Okay, now don’t panic…but I think you’re in a Michael Bay film…”

“BROOKE!”

For a second Lucy thought her head injury had done something to her vocal chords, until Rock’s voice came over the phone and she realised it had been him admonishing her friend.

“Lucy – are you alright?”

“No I’m not! I’m tied up in an office somewhere and there’s a poster with a helicopter on it and a pinboard and that’s all I can see and I’m scared and vomity and my head hurts!” she cried.

“Helicopter…”

Lucy made a squeaky noise of assent and laid her head on the carpet.

“Lucy, I think I know where you are!”

“What?”

“Just stay put – I am coming for you, my litterl axolotl!”

“Eh?”

Lucy could hear running footsteps and fear jolted through her. This was it – Dilbert was coming to dismember her!

“Rock! Rock help! He’s coming!”

“Just hang on!”

The footsteps were almost upon her.

“ROCK!”

The door crashed open and Lucy screamed as a tall figure filled the doorway.

“My litterl Marmoset!” it cried.

“Rock!?”

The new nail art that started a manicure revolution

Sharmadean Reid founded a nail bar last year because she knew ‘it would be massive’. We ask how it feels to be right.

Rank and file: Nail art from Wah Nails at Topshop

Wah Nails owner Sharmadean Reid

If there’s one thing right now that’s sure to get your mates — as well as shop assistants, passers-by and the woman sitting next to you on the bus — whipped up into a frenzy, it’s your nails. Whether it’s the vinyl-like high definition of Minx transfers, the endless possibilities of hand-painted nail art or the get-in-there-first shade of the season (lilac), this is one-size-fits-all beauty and we’ve all gone potty for it. And there is one east London entrepreneur at the heart of it all.

Sharmadean Reid, 25, founded Wah Nails in Dalston — the city’s hotbed of young talent — last summer, simply because she “knew it was going to be massive”. She was right. Since opening, Wah has decorated the nails of hundreds of creative types, fashionistas, celebrities and teenagers spending their weekly pocket money. And, following a whoppingly successful run as a pop-up shop in Topshop during London fashion week, Wah Nails has secured a permanent spot in the Oxford Street store, replacing Nails Inc.
“Topshop is the best possible outlet,” says Reid, her girly, high-pitched voice giving way to an affable Midlands lilt. “With the store in New York and the one in Knightsbridge, it’s massive. What other high-street store has a catwalk show that is just as cool as anything else?”

The Topshop contract is a testament to the impact of Wah Nails, as well as the plucky determination of Reid. Not bad for a young woman who set aside a successful career in styling and consultancy to build a business on a hunch. She has, however, since then, planned her path with careful precision. “I said to myself last year, I’m going to open a nail shop and get it into Topshop.” And that she has.

We meet at Wah Nails, in Dalston, which has the cool, laid-back charm of an art gallery on the Lower East Side — a little rough around the edges, but a welcome relief from the sterile milieu of standard beauty salons. I flip through the nail menu and am at a loss; there are hundreds of designs, each as mesmerising and joyous as the last. Reid glances down at my outfit. “Let’s do turquoise, brown, silver and gold gems.” It matches my clothes — I’m sold.
Is everybody as clueless as I am in choosing a design, I wonder. “In Topshop, everyone seems to be going for leopard print,” says Reid. “But they’ll also play with textures, mixing matt with gloss, in a fashiony way.”
Surprisingly, on her own hands, nail art is conspicuously absent. “I’m always having to test a lot of stuff. But generally, now that I have everything at my disposal, I have quite plain nails.”

Her fingernails may be a blank canvas but Reid’s love of fashion is in full view: she’s wearing chunky black ankle boots and is somehow pulling off a scrunchie. Her acute knowledge of style is integral to Wah’s success. Having spent her childhood reading fashion magazines from cover to cover, she knows how to instantly spot a trend and transform it into nail art before the rival nail salons can say “mani”. “I just think about what makes a cool motif. We came up with the Aztec nail because at the time everyone was wearing those American Apparel Aztec leggings. Nobody wears them any more, but they still wear the nails.”

The phone rings. It’s a girl inquiring about an apprenticeship at Wah. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately, but that was always part of the plan,” Reid reveals. “I’ve never been obsessed with race issues, but I always think about the jobs that black girls get pushed into. I was tired of paying for bad service, so set up my own nail shop. That mentality is lacking among young black girls.”

This community aspect is what makes Wah different. “We host parties here every weekend, but we don’t close the salon, so everyone can mix. And we exhibit female artists, which provides a platform for young, creative women.” As a result, she’s one of the best-connected girls in east London, but you won’t catch her name-dropping. “I turned down a celebrity the other day to do my friend’s nails, because she was going out. It’s not about exclusivity with me. I want everyone to have the nails and enjoy them.”

And enjoy them I do — I can’t resist showing off my bejewelled fingertips at every opportunity. As for Reid, it’s on to the next venture. “I can’t tell you what it is yet, but it’s not related to nails.” One thing’s for sure, with Reid at the helm, we’ll all want to know about it.

• Wah Nails at Topshop: 020 7927 7844

The new nail art that started a manicure revolution

Sharmadean Reid founded a nail bar last year because she knew ‘it would be massive’. We ask how it feels to be right.

Rank and file: Nail art from Wah Nails at Topshop

Wah Nails owner Sharmadean Reid

If there’s one thing right now that’s sure to get your mates — as well as shop assistants, passers-by and the woman sitting next to you on the bus — whipped up into a frenzy, it’s your nails. Whether it’s the vinyl-like high definition of Minx transfers, the endless possibilities of hand-painted nail art or the get-in-there-first shade of the season (lilac), this is one-size-fits-all beauty and we’ve all gone potty for it. And there is one east London entrepreneur at the heart of it all.

Sharmadean Reid, 25, founded Wah Nails in Dalston — the city’s hotbed of young talent — last summer, simply because she “knew it was going to be massive”. She was right. Since opening, Wah has decorated the nails of hundreds of creative types, fashionistas, celebrities and teenagers spending their weekly pocket money. And, following a whoppingly successful run as a pop-up shop in Topshop during London fashion week, Wah Nails has secured a permanent spot in the Oxford Street store, replacing Nails Inc.
“Topshop is the best possible outlet,” says Reid, her girly, high-pitched voice giving way to an affable Midlands lilt. “With the store in New York and the one in Knightsbridge, it’s massive. What other high-street store has a catwalk show that is just as cool as anything else?”

The Topshop contract is a testament to the impact of Wah Nails, as well as the plucky determination of Reid. Not bad for a young woman who set aside a successful career in styling and consultancy to build a business on a hunch. She has, however, since then, planned her path with careful precision. “I said to myself last year, I’m going to open a nail shop and get it into Topshop.” And that she has.

We meet at Wah Nails, in Dalston, which has the cool, laid-back charm of an art gallery on the Lower East Side — a little rough around the edges, but a welcome relief from the sterile milieu of standard beauty salons. I flip through the nail menu and am at a loss; there are hundreds of designs, each as mesmerising and joyous as the last. Reid glances down at my outfit. “Let’s do turquoise, brown, silver and gold gems.” It matches my clothes — I’m sold.
Is everybody as clueless as I am in choosing a design, I wonder. “In Topshop, everyone seems to be going for leopard print,” says Reid. “But they’ll also play with textures, mixing matt with gloss, in a fashiony way.”
Surprisingly, on her own hands, nail art is conspicuously absent. “I’m always having to test a lot of stuff. But generally, now that I have everything at my disposal, I have quite plain nails.”

Her fingernails may be a blank canvas but Reid’s love of fashion is in full view: she’s wearing chunky black ankle boots and is somehow pulling off a scrunchie. Her acute knowledge of style is integral to Wah’s success. Having spent her childhood reading fashion magazines from cover to cover, she knows how to instantly spot a trend and transform it into nail art before the rival nail salons can say “mani”. “I just think about what makes a cool motif. We came up with the Aztec nail because at the time everyone was wearing those American Apparel Aztec leggings. Nobody wears them any more, but they still wear the nails.”

The phone rings. It’s a girl inquiring about an apprenticeship at Wah. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately, but that was always part of the plan,” Reid reveals. “I’ve never been obsessed with race issues, but I always think about the jobs that black girls get pushed into. I was tired of paying for bad service, so set up my own nail shop. That mentality is lacking among young black girls.”

This community aspect is what makes Wah different. “We host parties here every weekend, but we don’t close the salon, so everyone can mix. And we exhibit female artists, which provides a platform for young, creative women.” As a result, she’s one of the best-connected girls in east London, but you won’t catch her name-dropping. “I turned down a celebrity the other day to do my friend’s nails, because she was going out. It’s not about exclusivity with me. I want everyone to have the nails and enjoy them.”

And enjoy them I do — I can’t resist showing off my bejewelled fingertips at every opportunity. As for Reid, it’s on to the next venture. “I can’t tell you what it is yet, but it’s not related to nails.” One thing’s for sure, with Reid at the helm, we’ll all want to know about it.

• Wah Nails at Topshop: 020 7927 7844

Nubar Peacock Feathers

Hooobah! Sorry for the vanishing act lately, guys. Just a bit of blogger's fatigue kicking in, along with moving day being a month away. Starting to get down to the business-end of things.

The "London Plan" has hit a bit of a snag in that I can't actually get a work visa in the UK unless I already have a job lined up and a sponsor. So the trip this year will basically have to be a fishing expedition, and if I get offered anything I'll have to say "Hold that thought!" and go back to Oz, apply for a work visa and then come back in a couple of months :)

If I don't get offered anything, then at least I will have taken the temperature of the job pool, and can work on some stuff to impress someone enough to want to "import" me.
Sigh. It's never easy!

So anyway - today I have another one of my Nubar haul for you. The cult fave "Peacock Feathers"....



Now, I have to say I was a bit disappointed in this. It just wasn't duo-chromey enough for me. In the photos it looks really nice, but when I wore it, it just looked like a quite normal navy blue/purple. None of the other colours "flashed" enough for me...


That being said, everything else was great - application, durability, etc. I guess I was expecting a bit more because of all the hype.




Bleh. I'm off to bang my head against the wall for a bit.
But not so hard I leave a dent and can't get my bond money back :)

Nubar Peacock Feathers

Hooobah! Sorry for the vanishing act lately, guys. Just a bit of blogger's fatigue kicking in, along with moving day being a month away. Starting to get down to the business-end of things.

The "London Plan" has hit a bit of a snag in that I can't actually get a work visa in the UK unless I already have a job lined up and a sponsor. So the trip this year will basically have to be a fishing expedition, and if I get offered anything I'll have to say "Hold that thought!" and go back to Oz, apply for a work visa and then come back in a couple of months :)

If I don't get offered anything, then at least I will have taken the temperature of the job pool, and can work on some stuff to impress someone enough to want to "import" me.
Sigh. It's never easy!

So anyway - today I have another one of my Nubar haul for you. The cult fave "Peacock Feathers"....



Now, I have to say I was a bit disappointed in this. It just wasn't duo-chromey enough for me. In the photos it looks really nice, but when I wore it, it just looked like a quite normal navy blue/purple. None of the other colours "flashed" enough for me...


That being said, everything else was great - application, durability, etc. I guess I was expecting a bit more because of all the hype.




Bleh. I'm off to bang my head against the wall for a bit.
But not so hard I leave a dent and can't get my bond money back :)