I Got A Pedicure And It Was Dope

It's weird to think about the ways in which comfort is gendered in society. We're the ones who get to not wear our shirts when it's hot out, and it's not an accepted fact that a man is going to, whenever he has to go somewhere nice, stand on multiple inch-high spikes in order to get in. (Also, childbirth and our avoidance thereof.) While we most definitely have the advantage in very immediate, obvious ways that we take for granted, there's a weird stigma against dudes actively going out of their way to seek comfort. Leisure/beauty activities meant to make you feel comfortable (manicures, pedicures fancy haircuts, massages, trips to the spa and shit, etc.) are coded as feminine, which is dumb as fuck because wanting to feel pampered, while remaining sedentary, is decidedly gender-neutral. This is a long-winded way for me to introduce the fact that I got a pedicure last week.

Because no one tells you these things, here is how getting a pedicure works: You show up to the salon (which, when you think about it, is kind of a dope name for it, especially when you pretend everyone else around you is some sort of influential thinker type) and they have you sit in a massage chair while they fill up a little tub at your feet with warm water. If you've ever almost missed a flight because you were putting in too much quality time at Brookstone getting your shit soothed by a robot, then you already know why this is awesome. The warm water makes your feet feel swaddled in an amniotic sac (this is a good thing). The pedicure person then takes to your toenails, filing and clipping where applicable so that your shits have an optimal shape, and follows that by pushing your cuticles back so everything grows back in normally and healthily. Because dudes have uniformly gross ass feet, inevitably, you are going to be told you need to get your callouses ground off too, which involves your feet getting covered in some sort of weird substance, then wrapped in plastic, then rubbed with what looks like a cheese grater. It tickles, and it's definitely this strainge, foreign sensation, but way better than walking around with disgusting feet, I guess.

And that's it. That's what a pedicure entails. It wasn’t weird. I actually enjoyed it a lot. It makes you feel good, it makes your feet look acceptable to other human beings and it'll make you feel more confident while wearing sandals and wielding your feet like weapons of truth and light against the h8rs and trolls. I got one, I'd get another, and, if you don't like it, then you can get the fuck off my internets.

Drew Millard wrote this while gone off that terrifying formaldehyde smell in the nail salon. You can read more of his work on Noisey and follow him on Twitter here.