My grandmother had beautiful nails, long enough that they tapped the keys when she played the piano. For a long time she painted them red, but it’s a French manicure that I remember her wearing most. It didn’t matter what was happening in her life, her nails were always perfect. I refuse to get a French, but once in an eclipse, I’ll ask the manicurist to paint them ruby red. Because red nails make a girl feel dressed up, even when she’s wearing her pajamas.