It's OK To Have Chipped Nails On Vacation

on the high maintenance appointment olympics

It was another night where I had taken refuge from the blurring work week at my girl Jasmine’s house for a much-needed kiki. We sat lacksadaisically, our legs and pedicured toes curled up on the seats and tucked under her plushy throw blankets on her velvet green couch found in most Black girl millennial apartments. We were drinking a new French wine she had just discovered from Trader Joe’s, and it was delicious. I snapped a picture of it to remember to pick it up on my next TJ’s run.

We were countless Black people conversation catalysts deep, “Mind you!” and “Girl, ain’t no way” being vollied back and forth across the couch like an Olympic finals match of who had the most tea, when she asked if I was ready for my upcoming trip to Portugal.

"I really need to get my life together before this trip, it’s literally next week, and you know I haven’t packed,” I lamented.

“How are you going to do your hair?” Jasmine inquired.

For some reason, this felt like a threat. “Oh, I’m not sure, I might wear it natural or put in some twists. Ugh, those are going to take me forever.”

“Oh, you’re not getting your hair done?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but now that you mention it...”

“And girl, I wanna see the outfits! I know you placed your orders.”

“Wait, did I?” I contemplate as my panic intensifies.

My internal dialogue was doing hand-to-hand combat with the idea that, even though I didn’t want to do those things (they sounded like a lot of work), maybe I should—because that’s what Black girls are supposed to do when they go on vacation. We’re supposed to show up slayed to impress both the God of Heaven and the gawds of our influencer fantasies. We’re supposed to look so good that the letter ‘T’ needs to be added to the end. We’re supposed to participate in the vacation appointment Olympics and make sure that this state or country we’re blessing with our presence doesn’t catch us slipping (even though no one knows who we are, let alone our wardrobe).

Our hair must be done—goddess boho braids or wigs only, don’t let them catch you with your natural hair. Our nails must be professionally manicured with added acrylics—bonus points for designs as intricate as Cardi B’s. Eyelashes? Applied. Bad bitch outfits? Ordered. Coochie hair? Painfully waxed away for now.

Via twitter

It’s A LOT. It’s endless. And guess what? When you get to said vacation, you know, the place you’re supposed to relax and let loose, you become too worried about preserving said hair, nails, and outfits to even be present for it. And what do you have to show for it? Digital photos on IG for people who weren’t even there? Let’s recap: you paid thousands of dollars to be digitally perceived online for your outfits, nails, and hair by the people at home after going to a real place and exploring people who have never seen you and will literally never see you again.

Whew, I know this sounds like shade, but fear not, dear reader, because this big palm tree of shade covers me too. Surprise! I participate too! And I’m swinging in like Captain Save-A-Ho to let us all know that we don’t have to do this!

How did we get here?

We could blame the influencers (it’s always the influencers), but let’s back up a bit. There are quite a few ideologies that have taken shape online, spread like wildfire on Twitter, IG, and TikTok, and managed to converge all at the same time that have brought us to this place of required high maintenance. A place where regular degular, everyday women, with regular degular salaries that don’t stretch as far as celebrity coin, feel the need to keep up with the proverbial Joneses. Y’all look gorgeous, of course, but it’s not necessary.

Once the era of female rap girlys dominating hip-hop took flight (or got flewed out, in the great words of Yung Miami), it gave way to empowering women to feel and embody as much “bad bitch energy” as they possibly could, at all times. It’s empowering to hear Meg Thee Stallion rap about how good she looks and revel in the confidence that comes with that. When Latto said “trips y'all can't pronounce/big jets to Phuket/I'm like FUCK IT," we want to have that same energy.

Female rappers get what they want. They get the men, they get the bags, and they fly private jets to exotic locations looking TF good. As women, rarely do we get what we want unless we have pretty privilege. And thanks to female rappers (and YouTube University), we’ve learned that pretty privilege isn’t necessarily something you need to be born with—you can create it for yourself. Whether by simply wearing makeup more regularly and always having your hair done, or by more extremely, undergoing cosmetic surgery to look more like the women who seem to get what they want. You can buy it—whether by cash or credit.

It’s commonly believed that pretty privilege brings the soft life. Because I look way too good to have to deal with any form of stress and to not be enjoying life’s luxuries, right? We see all these gorgeous influencers with their whole look always on point. Every post. And their vacation posts? Forget about it.That must be how they always get flown out by mysterious rich men. That must be why they always get a lot of likes on their posts and brand deals. Not giving way to the thought that this post was meticulously crafted, probably scheduled weeks ago, and they’re probably also currently lying on their couch looking like a potato and scrolling the feed like you. I’m just curious on how they fit all their outfits and shoes in their bags.

And one of life’s biggest perceived luxuries according to online standards? Travel. See how we got here? The perception of wealth, online posturing, female rap dominance, and the commodification of our IG-aestethic feeds result in you losing hundreds or thousands of dollars every time you decide to get on a plane. And not even on the tickets or hotel, but on your appointments.

via Instagram

Travel comes in many shapes and forms. You can spend thousands of dollars to swim in an infinity pool overlooking the beaches of Bali while your in-house chef floats your breakfast over to you, or you could try to make $100 stretch as far as possible while backpacking across Europe. While Black people tend to lean toward the former, it makes sense. According to a report by The Mandala Research Firm, only 17% of Black Americans take an international trip per year, and most travel only 100-500 miles from home. And with how things have been going in the U.S. since, well, forever, why wouldn’t Black people, and particularly Black women, who are the main drivers of total Black spending power surpassing $1.5 trillion, want the few times they get to travel to be as luxurious as possible? Black women want, no, need, a reprieve, and if we want to spend some money to look as good as possible for the trip, what’s the big deal? When you look good, you feel good, and dammit, I’m going to feel as good as possible! PTO has been accrued, my boss is on mute, and my automatic replies are activated.

I understand all of this. I just need to reiterate that it is not required. I’ve seen friends reschedule dates because their nails weren’t done, push it to the limit with making it to the airport because of delayed ASOS packages, and waste the first 2-3 days of a trip in appointments because they couldn’t get it all done beforehand. I’ve had young people ask me how I can afford to travel and lament on how it seems too luxurious for their budgets. And I’ve time and time again seen women spend more on their appointments than the actual trip. We’re going for gold every time, which I guess is what you want to do in the Olympics, but in this event, it’s okay to go for bronze; hell, it’s okay to not even make it to the podium.

I want us to be conscious of the reason we participate in certain activities. It seems harmless to participate in the appointment olympics, until we step back and realize that we’ve been conditioned by someone else’s standards to convince us that this is required. Let’s divest. Because in this economy? Babyyyy.

Some creators online have started the conversation of how expensive maintenance has become and how they plan to divest through things like doing their nails at home or using press-ons, extending their already-done hairstyles for a trip, and applying cluster lashes at home.

If you truly want to divest in a sustainable way, take some time to sit and think about how you would feel if you went on vacation with the same clothes in your closet or the slightly old braids you already have on your head. Does it make you feel dusty? Unkept? Or does it make you feel neutral? Indifferent? Maybe even relieved? If it’s the former, really sit with this and think about why. Write it down. After you think, challenge yourself to let go of ONE appointment on your next trip and then write down how it feels. Rinse and repeat until you feel content personally with how you choose to show up on your next trip.

If it feels stressful, let it go. I love seeing women realize that they don’t have to participate in the high maintenance routine if they don’t want to.

We can come as we are, enjoy a stress-free trip, and not worry about if our nails are chipped or if the ziplining helmet is going to ruin our newly glued lace front. Trust me, it is, but you’ll be just fine.