HOW TO RESTORE BITTEN NAILS AND CUTICLES
Sarah Vine
The Times
May 9, 2009
UK
Bitten cuticles are ugly - but Jessica Vartoughian has the remedy
(Getty Images)
When it comes to nails, I thoroughly fail the beauty editor test. At
industry gatherings (What is the collective noun for beauty writers? A
preen, perhaps - or maybe a miaow), I am painfully conscious that in
a roomful of lacquered nails and trim cuticles, I am the only person
with hands like a navvy's.
There is a simple reason for this: I'm a nibbler. Not of nails, though,
but of something much worse: of cuticles. It is, without question,
a revolting habit. It's also a vicious circle: the more I nibble,
the more my cuticles grow, and the more raggedy they get. If you
nibble enough, your nail bed becomes misshapen over time, so you get
ridges and bumps and all sorts of other unpleasant side effects. You
also get to the stage where you're so embarrassed about your habit,
you avoid the one group of people who might just be able to help you -
ie, manicurists - like the plague.
And so it was that when I was invited to meet the legendary Jessica
Vartoughian, creator of the hugely successful Jessica nailcare system,
I felt rather like a person who never flosses preparing to visit the
dentist: full of dread.
Vartoughian, originally from Romania, founded her "nail clinic" in Los
Angeles in 1969. She got her big break doing Lucille Ball's nails; Ball
recommended her to friends, and her reputation snowballed from there.
In the flesh, Vartoughian is quite a character, her spectacles perched
on the end of her nose as she surveys my fingers. She glances up at me.
"This is what my daughter-in-law does, too," she says, in a
more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger sort of a way. "But we don't worry.
This we can fix."
For someone who made her name in the land of artifice, the Jessica
manicure is based on sternly natural principles. Cuticles are never
trimmed, just softened and pushed back. The nail is filed sensibly
round and short, the nail bed massaged and strengthened with whichever
treatment is deemed necessary. There is a rejuvenation formula for
dry nails, a restoration one for damaged nails, and so on.
Astonishingly, it takes just under an hour for her to transform
my nails.
"Some of the cuticles are infected," she says, surveying her
handiwork. "But don't worry. You will use the Phenomen Oil [left,
£12.35; stockists, 0845 2171360] at night, to keep the cuticles
soft. In the day you will put on the Nibble No More [£13.75]. It is
made from cactus extract. It tastes disgusting, you will see. After
a while, you will stop."
And she's right. At home, I attempt a small nibble. My mouth is f
illed with the bitterest taste. In the days that follow, I obey her
instructions: oil at night, cactus juice during the day. Amazingly,
it takes a little over a week for my cuticles to heal. My hands are
reborn. Jessica, dearest lady: I salute you.
Sarah Vine
The Times
May 9, 2009
UK
Bitten cuticles are ugly - but Jessica Vartoughian has the remedy
(Getty Images)
When it comes to nails, I thoroughly fail the beauty editor test. At
industry gatherings (What is the collective noun for beauty writers? A
preen, perhaps - or maybe a miaow), I am painfully conscious that in
a roomful of lacquered nails and trim cuticles, I am the only person
with hands like a navvy's.
There is a simple reason for this: I'm a nibbler. Not of nails, though,
but of something much worse: of cuticles. It is, without question,
a revolting habit. It's also a vicious circle: the more I nibble,
the more my cuticles grow, and the more raggedy they get. If you
nibble enough, your nail bed becomes misshapen over time, so you get
ridges and bumps and all sorts of other unpleasant side effects. You
also get to the stage where you're so embarrassed about your habit,
you avoid the one group of people who might just be able to help you -
ie, manicurists - like the plague.
And so it was that when I was invited to meet the legendary Jessica
Vartoughian, creator of the hugely successful Jessica nailcare system,
I felt rather like a person who never flosses preparing to visit the
dentist: full of dread.
Vartoughian, originally from Romania, founded her "nail clinic" in Los
Angeles in 1969. She got her big break doing Lucille Ball's nails; Ball
recommended her to friends, and her reputation snowballed from there.
In the flesh, Vartoughian is quite a character, her spectacles perched
on the end of her nose as she surveys my fingers. She glances up at me.
"This is what my daughter-in-law does, too," she says, in a
more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger sort of a way. "But we don't worry.
This we can fix."
For someone who made her name in the land of artifice, the Jessica
manicure is based on sternly natural principles. Cuticles are never
trimmed, just softened and pushed back. The nail is filed sensibly
round and short, the nail bed massaged and strengthened with whichever
treatment is deemed necessary. There is a rejuvenation formula for
dry nails, a restoration one for damaged nails, and so on.
Astonishingly, it takes just under an hour for her to transform
my nails.
"Some of the cuticles are infected," she says, surveying her
handiwork. "But don't worry. You will use the Phenomen Oil [left,
£12.35; stockists, 0845 2171360] at night, to keep the cuticles
soft. In the day you will put on the Nibble No More [£13.75]. It is
made from cactus extract. It tastes disgusting, you will see. After
a while, you will stop."
And she's right. At home, I attempt a small nibble. My mouth is f
illed with the bitterest taste. In the days that follow, I obey her
instructions: oil at night, cactus juice during the day. Amazingly,
it takes a little over a week for my cuticles to heal. My hands are
reborn. Jessica, dearest lady: I salute you.