Beauty Uncensored: The New Press-On Nails

Buying a set of Press-On Nails is a coming-of-age rite as old as time itself. Assuming time began in the '80s.
    I bought my first and last set of Press-Ons at the tender age of 12. Oh, they looked nice enough when I stuck them on to my fingertips. Within a few hours, though, I found one of them dangling from my sweater, another one stuck to the sink and a third covered in dust in a corner.  It was a total waste of my weekly allowance and a wake-up call for me that not every beauty product delivers what it promises.
    You can understand, then, why I was dubious about the latest incarnation of drugstore press-on nails. However, I was lured in by the promise that these new nails would “never chip, crack, or wear away!” What’s more, they were supposed to last a full seven days.
    At just $5.99 for a two full sets of nails (and a few extras) at Walgreen’s, I figured it was worth a shot. It took me quite a while to choose the ones I wanted — there were a few dozen options to choose from. My fake nails could be French manicured, feather light, short, real short, medium, oval, square and with or without decals. They were also customized, to fit either flat, regular, or high-arch fingers.
    I finally settled on a set of Kiss Everlasting, French-manicured, “real short” nails for regular fingers. I also threw in a pair of Kiss Express On French manicured toenails, because I was feeling daring. My total bill was about $13.
    Once I got home, it took me just five minutes to put on my new finger nails. I quickly learned that the secret to these “new” press-on nails is the adhesive. Unlike the gummy press-on nails of the '80s, these babies ain’t moving. You are basically super gluing them to your existing nails, which I learned the hard way after putting one of them on crooked, only to instantly realize that it wouldn’t budge.
    Oops.
    Fortunately, I’m pretty low-maintenance. I told the kids my newly crooked fingernail was “Mommy’s little deformity” and left it at that.
    I was glad I had chosen “real short” nails because as a mother to small children, I use my nails for everything from scraping goo off the kitchen table to unscrewing tiny screws in toys. My new bionic nails allowed me to take my toolbox concept even farther. Because they are indestructible. I found myself shelling pistachios, opening cans of soda, prying the drain from the bathtub, and parting my daughter’s hair with them. However, while my nails still remain flawless and intact, I have to admit that my nailbeds now hurt like hell. Kiss really needs to put a warning on the box that says “Kiss Glue-On Nails are not to be used in place of a flathead screwdriver.” That might have saved me a lot of grief.
    When my teenage stepdaughters got home yesterday afternoon, I silently held up my hands for their inspection. They gasped appreciatively. “Did you get a manicure?” my 18-year-old asked.
    “No,” I said.
    “Did you do them yourself?” my 16-year-old asked in disbelief.
    “Uh uh.”
    They stared at me, confused.
    “They’re glue-on nails!” I crowed. The girls were shocked.
    “Wow, they look really good!” my 18-year-old said.
    “Yeah, I know,” I marveled, looking at them. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
    But while my nails have been a resounding success, my toes? Not so much.
    Unlike the fingernails, which come with a vial of superglue, Kiss toenails are the press-on variety and are supposed to last only a day. I put mine on yesterday and wore them with a pair of sandals to Opry Mills for a shopping trip with my family.
    Within a few minutes of walking through the mall, I could feel my toenails beginning to rub loose. One of them was actually stabbing me with every step I took. I limped along like a derelict, unwilling to stop and publicly remove my toenail.
    However, by the time I reached the Crocs outlet, the pain was more than I could bear. Plus, the salesman was kind of a jerk and was looking at my kids like they were carrying swine flu or something.   
    I went to a central aisle, leaned over, and ripped off the loose nail. Then I put it, face up, in the middle of the aisle where the guy was sure to find it.
    Because there’s not much grosser than finding someone’s full, intact toenail on the floor of a shoe store.
    Take that, asshat.
    Right now, less than 24 hours after pressing on my toenails, only 7 out of 10 remain on my feet. I won’t be buying the toenails again unless I’m plotting revenge at an upcoming dinner party and want to spoil appetites by leaving my used toenails all over the house.
    Meanwhile, I feel a little claustrophobic when I consider the fact that my fake nails are destined to remain on my fingers for at least seven days. Supposedly, you can remove them with nail polish remover, but I haven’t tried that yet. I’m also a little concerned about the state of my real nails when the fake ones finally come off. I’ll leave an epilogue in the comments of this post once I’ve worn them the full seven days.
    In the meantime, I’m giving the new press-on nails a mixed review. Thumbs up on the fingers, thumbs down on the toes.