My iPhone wrote this post

I like to think that my particular blogging forte is Deep Thoughts on Shallow Subjects, but I'm a little short on fashion and style thoughts these days. (This will no doubt please the two or three weirdos readers who would rather hear about my life.) Therefore, the following is a version of My Life in Pictures. With commentary. And a minimum of whining.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Buxom and I drove out to Hancock, New York, to watch our kids in a production of Les Miserables.

Here they are being peasants. Miss Buxom's cheeks are extremely red, partly because of the lavish way I applied Chanel's Rouge (from the Fall 2011 Byzantine collection.) But also because she was coming down with walking pneumonia.

After two days of driving from New York, we were greeted by the news that our house, which had been full of painters for five days, was going to be full of painters for Quite a While Longer. The painting, it took much time. The patching, it went on for many days. Only to be followed by the sanding, and the depositing of lavish amounts of plaster dust.

Please notice the lovely soft celadon/light avocado green in my dining room. Also note the Chinoiserie curtains. (Honestly, someone with such Old Lady taste in interior decorating should shut her pie hole about fashion, don't you agree?)

See the trim over the sideboard? It used to be two asymmetrical white rectangles. I asked the painter to make it one big rectangle. Now I can hang art. Or a mirror. Or sconces! Maybe all three! What joy.

Wow, I really need to polish those candlesticks. And put everything back where it belongs.

Study in chocolate

Mr. Buxom's study used to have navy blue wallpaper with a pattern of stars. Now it's painted chocolate brown. I hope bird approves, as Mr. Buxom's study doubles as bird's guest quarters. Please note the dramatic effect of the super dark walls only partially illuminated by the afternoon sun. That, my friends, is Style.

OK, now we're up to a week ago.

On our way to take Miss Buxom to the doctor to hear the bad news about the walking pneumonia (which I've decided to call La Pneumonie Marchante out of free-floating Francophilia, and because she contracted it while she was being a French Peasant, and also because the French pronounce the "P" in "Pneumonie," which amuses me to no end) we discovered that the previous evening's torrential rain storms had caused flooding in my basement. And some destruction of drywall and such.

So. Disease, dust, disaster, distruction ... somehow I'm not doing a lot of shopping.

Thank goodness I'm still in deep, deep love with the bag I bought last April.

I've also fallen down on the grooming front. 

Faux Fuschia, please note that it's not chipped, per se. But it's still revolting.

Ooh-la-la! Those nails are misérables! I desperately need a new Shellac manicure. I've put  off my re-Shellacing due to zee Puh-nee-mo-nie, the painting, and the flooding, but I'll be dealing with it very, very soon.

Because? On Wednesday, we're flying to London.

p.s. The house is still at sixes and sevens, but Miss Buxom is just fine.

Once you go Shellac, you never go back

Hey, internet!

Yes, I am showing up after more than three months like a bad penny, or that boyfriend your mother always hated. What can I say? Life has been busy. But I figured if I was going to start blogging again, I'd cut out the apologies and excuses and just do it.

So here I am, ready to preach the gospel of Shellac nail polish by CND.

When you write about style, it sort of behooves you to stay current. And yet, for me, the "WTF is that???" stage lasts much longer than it does for the stereotypical hard-core cutting-edge fashionista.)

Examples? OK-how's this: I'm just getting used to skinny jeans and smoky eye makeup. Yes, really. And I'm still not there with jeggings or those platform shoes that make women's feet look like horses' hooves.

This makes me a style conservative ... which should be an oxymoron, but there you go. Anyway, I figured that the internet exists so people can find and bond with like-minded weirdos. I also figured that there might be more style conservatives like me out there. People who have never tried a Shellac manicure.

If you are one of these people, put this blog down and go get one.

Here's what you need to know:

1. These aren't acrylics or gel nails. The application is almost exactly the same as regular nail polish; base cost; two color coats; one top coat. You just have to cure the nails in a UV light box for a couple of minutes after each coat.

2. The color selection isn't fabulous, but if you like nudes, beiges, pinks, and reds, you should be OK.

3. Shellac manicures last and last and last.

These are my nails after two and a half weeks. I've got to get them redone soon, but not because of chips. It's because there is significant growth visible at the base of the nails.

And I'm using my hands with no thought whatsoever for ruining my manicure. I open boxes and packages and clean house and fold laundry and my nails remain flawless, strong, and shiny. (I mean strong like I'm-pregnant-strong or I'm-a-teenager-strong, which is a nice change of pace from the peeling, breaking mess my nails have become in the last decade.)

The downside? I've already mentioned the limited color palette. Also, removing the polish is tricky. You have to wear removal-soaked pads for ten minutes, and even then, your manicurist might have to go at you with an orange wood stick. But it's not too bad.

But maybe I should tone down this rave review ... because the Shellac people have got me now. I have nails like a teenager and they're totally low maintenance. If I have to head to the salon to get them removed--well, it's a situation I can accept.

FWIW I've been to two salons. The fancy one charges $40 and the cheap walk-in place charges $25.

So anyway, I'm hooked. Any other users out there? Let me know if you've had a Shellac manicure and what you thought of it because I've clearly joined a cult.