The manicurist painted my nails a deep red, the same colour my sister was having applied. There’s nothing frivolous about these small rituals that women all around the world indulge in – they’re a brief escape from the labour we take on. A tiny respite from a society which forces us to carry the emotional labour and carve out a professional path, while showing that we’re not too emotional. Nail varnish is not vapid. It’s a lacquer, a protective layer.
