One afternoon back in July, I penguin-walked my freshly painted, groomed feet over to the vinyl manicure chair. I was running late for dinner, so instead of the full mani I’d planned on, I only had time for a polish removal and trim. A few minutes later, as I headed to meet my friend, I tried to ignore the fact that I was walking around manicure-free. But every time I caught a glimpse of my hands, I was appalled — my fingers looked like five naked bald men.
My friend didn’t comment on my polish-free nails. (Neither did my husband, but frankly, he probably wouldn’t even notice if I suddenly got a bob.) Still, I felt like I was missing a security blanket.
It may sound dramatic, but my biweekly trips to the nail salon used to be one of my non-negotiable rituals. And while I’d gone through phases of wearing simple polish, I was primarily a maximalist nail art person. My FYP was a shrine to chrome hues, 3D and rhinestone designs, aura nails, and more — all of which I’d screenshot to show my tech. People rarely saw me without colorful, intricate tips; they were a source of social-media likes and IRL compliments. Birthday nails were a thing. Wedding nails, too (pastel tie-dye, in case you were wondering).
In today’s era, where beauty typically demands doing the most, it’s liberating to opt out occasionally, even if it’s just one thing.
But then I became a mom, and somewhere between the sleepless nights and realizing I barely recognized myself in old photos with glazed stars on my fingertips, my beauty priorities recalibrated. For a while, I DIYed with plain polish, but pretty soon, I grew too lazy to do even that. Though I had planned on a rare mani treat that July day I got a pedicure, it — unbeknownst to me at the time — would become the day I quit nails. And you know what? I feel free.
In my maximalist mani days, I’d spend anywhere from three to four hours in the nail salon if I was getting acrylics with a design — and that didn’t even factor in my commute time. At first, it was a thrilling novelty to watch the technician file, shape, and intricately paint my nail beds. But that wore off quickly, and each appointment became a dreaded chore. Sitting there without being able to use my hands was a special kind of purgatory. And, of course, there was the cost — nail art combined with tips ran close to $100, or more if I needed to redo the entire set (versus a fill).
While I used to think the wrinkles on my hands were more prominent without any polish or nail art as a distraction, I’ve now grown to like my naked nails. Dare I say, I even kind of love them. I’m not alone in this pared-down shift: On TikTok, millennials and the notoriously critical Gen Z crowd (the latter of which recently declared almond-shaped tips a “millennial indicator”) are embracing the bare nail movement. Aside from the feelings of liberation, many are also finding naked manis chic. “Call me crazy, but I’ve never felt chicer than with my short, bare nails,” creator @anastazia said in a video. “For some reason, this reminds me of the Olsen twins.” User @iraisraaa agreed, flashing her unpainted fingertips to the audio clip of Lisa Rinna saying, “It’s couture, honey.”
Others are sold on the nail health benefits. TikToker @zofiaflora said her natural nails feel so much stronger, while @coreystaley_ was excited to nix the UV damage she got from sticking her hands underneath a UV light to cure her gel manicures. Or maybe the laissez-faire attitude is simply what happens with age. “Is this maturing?” creator @annielarkboyd asked after pointing out how freeing it is to not worry about a chipped mani.
There is truth to the saying that your nails should “breathe” — it is healthier for them to not be painted. “Not getting a manicure gives your nails a chance to rest and recover — just like over-processed hair,” says Dr. Dana Stern, M.D., a board-certified dermatologist specializing in nail health. Your nail plate can rebuild its density and regain its natural flexibility. “Even the safest e-file removals and careful product applications can create minimal surface wear over time,” adds Sofi Mazur, a nail artist and educator. “Nothing major, but it’s enough to slightly thin or weaken the top keratin layers.” (Flashback to when I would begin my nail appointments by soaking my fingertips in acetone for so long I thought I’d hit bone.)
It’s been more than four months since I last did anything to my nails, and they do feel stronger. They’re even mighty enough to do (lots of) dishes without breaking afterward. It feels like I’m appreciating my fingers in their most natural state — these are the digits, after all, that do everything from changing diapers to writing and editing articles for my job. And in today’s era, where beauty typically demands doing the most, it’s liberating to opt out occasionally, even if it’s just one thing.
