transretrogurl

First, the image. You could say it’s not very retro but I think she looks a lot like Joan Jett. Plus, you know, ‘wow’.

Anyway, I’m planning a couple of long blog posts as I’ve just had a wonderful and seriously intense set of sessions. Twenty three hours of sessions over three days to be precise, and while I’m a little frayed (a *lot* frayed) I think I have enough energy for a bit of a laugh before I collapse into blissful sleep.

We decided to have a quick warmup session, four hours last thing at night. I’d been up since 4:00am and done a full days work, along with carrying a huge backpack of frocks as well as my heavy work kit, along with being plagued by a bad back so it was all going to be pretty intense.

Cindy does a fantastic job of repeatedly taking this aged, bloated middle-aged idiot and gently teasing Sarah out into the light. The process takes a while and involves the make-up regime, squeezing the bod into an hourglass shape which involves moving the internal organs about with a very tight corset, couple of padded bottom/hips panties and then the nails.

I’m not a fan of the process, as I may have first-world-problem-mentioned before. But the nails are something else – I love the feel of the glue tightening as the long nail attaches, and the smell of nail varnish is particularly fun. It takes a while for the varnish to dry, which involves me sitting helplessly with my now feminine hands, daintily bent at the wrists, gently wafting in the air to allow the ruby red varnish to dry.

And at the end of the session, after the corset has been loosened and my ribs pop back into position, Cindy removes the nails as I laugh and grimace.

The intention was for three days of sessions so I decided to save some time and have a laugh by not removing the nails between the sessions – I took a pair of walking gloves and intended to cover them on the walk back to the hotel, shower, chill, sleep, wake up, put the gloves on and head back to Cindy’s.

Sounds simple doesn’t it?

Well, turns out I’m a bloke. I love wearing nails but I hadn’t quite thought the idea through. Which leads us onto the content of the blog – ten things you (or actually me, part-time girl. full-time idiot) cannot do with sexy long female nails….

1: Pretty much anything to do with scratching

You’d have thought that female nails would be perfect for scratching. Men do have the pleasure of being able to scratch whenever they want without fearing social stigma, but when you’re a girl the rules change. For a start, you can’t really feel the ends of the nails. This leads to amusing issues when, for example, scratching the inside of your nostril. It normally takes me 0.0005 seconds after Cindy finishes the beautiful make-up to get the urge to scratch the inside of my nose while carefully avoiding touching the artwork. This inevitably leads to me pushing a centimetre or so too far into the nose, leading to blinking, swearing and a little bit of eye-watering through my long luscious lashes.

2: Adjusting one’s undergarments.

So, you have a chance to define what women wear through fashion. And you come up with combining delicate tights, tight small panties and other complex satin and silk frillies with barely controllable talons. Luckily most of the undergarments simply redirect the nails into your skin as you try to retain your elegance and femininity while pulling down your panties to use the toilet. Quickest way to lose that subtle mystique of being a woman is ending up in a toilet with three layers of undies and varied sexy garments around your mid-thighs and lots of long red welts on your shaven upper thighs. Yeah, that’s a good idea, fashion Gods.

3: Using an iPhone….

Adding an additional centimetre to each finger and making it non-bendy makes getting an iPhone out of anywhere an amusing operation of trying desperately not to bend the damn things back. Still, it looks quite cute when she is juggling the phone and trying desperately to get a tiny bit of flesh to press against the screen without scraping i with the nails, which leads me onto…

4: ….actually being able to type anything on an iPhone

I thought it would be fun to send some Facebook messages while completely dressed – the idea of her, Sarah. standing on heels, legs slightly crossed, biting her red lip as she quickly fires off a ‘Love you darling!’ message seems very cute and femm. And also completely impossible. Unless I meant to send ‘kovr yiu dsrlinh!’.

5: Zips

Sooo, nigh on every lovely frock has a zip somewhere, either up the back or, shudder, under the armpit. I always test drive the frocks before I go to the sessions, and it’s always beautifully simple to pinch the zip, often small and feminine in and of itself, between the end of my thumbs and index finger, and pull it. Et voila, easy! Sometimes you have to contort, but it’s always doable. Chuck on some nails and, well, it isn’t. Luckily Cindy does all the work and I just stand there with my useless fingers feeling like I’ve been crippled.

6: Buttons

See zips for details. I love frocks with buttons on them, until I’m standing there fumbling the damn things while simultaneously trying to rip the nails off. Yay, fun!

7: Sleeping

So, the idea of putting on gloves in drab mode hiding the dainty red nails seemed so good on paper. Getting back to the hotel I spent a good five minutes in the room, staring at my hands with a smile I couldn’t get off of my face. It was lovely, delicate, wonderful. Until I tried to sleep.

See, when you sleep your body kinda has the run of itself while your mind processes the information of the day. Normally I fidget a bit in my sleep. Which often involves them there hands coming up to my face from under the quilt, going under my head for me to sleep on. Which normally is quite comfortable. However, when you have nails and your body doesn’t know it you end up sticking yourself in the neck, the hair, the cheek – cue waking up, swearing, putting the girl-hands back under the quilt and drifting off. For a minute. Until the hand drifts up subconsciously and SLICE, repeat.

8: Eating

I knew in advance eating would be a barrel of laughs so I pre-empted it by a: not eating during the day when Sarah was in residence and b: buying a couple of sandwiches before getting taloned up and putting them in the fridge in the hotel room.

So, fast forward through the wonderful day and I’m back in the room, Star Wars PJs on, admiring my beautiful hands and contemplating a midnight snack of the sandwich from the fridge.

Firstly, opening a mini-bar fridge in a hotel with nails is like trying to operate a pencil using only your palms. It only took three times longer than it should have, but eventually I got the sandwich out.

Secondly, trying to open a sandwich packet with tight sellophane  is an exercise in frustration. At least until you work out you can just straighten your index finger and use your lovely, large, red thumb nail as a tin-opener. Result.

9: Dressing

Didn’t think that one through, did I? Yes, getting back to the hotel with gloves on was a work of insane genius, eating was just about doable, sleeping was fine once I worked out it was just easier to sleep on my hands (leading to them being dead and pins-and-needly when I woke up), but dressing in the drab clothes the next day while wearing nails? Torture. Took three times as long and lead to much swearing as I bent nails back pulling my undies on, pulling my trousers up, tying my shoes. I am continually impressed at how women get anything done, and look so stylish doing it, while I just ended up looking like I’d accidentally broken all my fingers sometime in the past and they’d healed wrong.

10: Leaving The Best To Last

I’m beginning to think that all women who wear nails must get given a book of instructions on how to do the day-to-day stuff that the rest of us lucky individuals get to do with no hassles. If they do get a book the first page, the first entry, *must* be how on earth you wipe your bum.

Wiping your bottom after doing your daily you-know-what seems utterly impossible with nails. Well, not so much impossible, just painful. There’s nothing like running a sharp nail up your butt-crack when you forget you’ve got Sarah’s hands on. It’s the kind of mistake you make once, and once only because the pain is kinda indescribable.

So, not sure what the book would say but I eventually managed it using a massive wad of loo roll and gingerly padding it.

My respect for women knows no bounds.

So why wear them?

If you’ve never had long nails you don’t know how delightful they feel. Seeing your hands with nails instantly changes them – they look softer, more gentle. I get a warm rush whenever I see them. they make the hands pose in such wonderful ways. Sarah would never be without long nails, so I can forgive her the indignities and pain she caused him.

And as for things that are actually massively improved by wearing nails? Hate to bring the tone of the blog post down, but, err, pleasuring yourself becomes an indescribably beautiful operation. Told you this blog post was NSFW…

Anyway, like the weak-willed man I am I bottled on the second night – after we finished the modelling session I literally begged Cindy to remove the nails. Part of me was utterly relieved and part of me, well……… let’s just say she was sad.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with it – the next couple of posts will be pure fashion and frock-gushing, so I’ll make it up to you, dear reader.

Stay beautiful and if you happen to find a copy of the instruction manual provided to women to allow them to survive day-to-day with beautiful nails I’d give good money for it.