Girly-Girl Delights

by Michelle Douglas

I've never been much of a girly-girl. I grew up more of a tomboy. I preferred riding my bike and making cubby houses with my little sister than playing with dolls (oh and reading. I did a LOT of reading).

I was late coming to clothes and make-up too. As a cash-strapped uni student, I wore a lot of black (hey, it could take a girl from day to night without too much hassle) and I preferred to spend my money on books (and food!) than on lipstick and eye shadow or long sessions at the hairdresser's.

I have to say that books and food are still higher on m

y lists of priorities than clothes, make-up and trips to the hairdresser. However, I have just made the girliest of girly-girl discoveries:

PEDICURES!

Before now pedicures haven't figured as even a blip on my radar, and left to my own devices I wouldn't have ventured forth to even test run one - it wouldn't have occurred to me. Oh, but what have I been missing!

Let me set the scene.

The Reason: To celebrate a friend's birthday. Four of us trekked into the salon, fresh with good cheer after a most congenial breakfast. (Frankly, if you are getting together with several friends for a few hours you are already guaranteed a fun time).

The Process: Ladies, choose your colours. We were led to a display of nail polishes. Oh my, and I do mean a display. Every colour of the rainbow and beyond beckoned to us - pinks and purples, blues and greens, bronze, silver and gold, scarlet and black... in matte or glitter. Okay, cue salivating because colour is promise. What do I want to be today - a vamp, the girl next door, a princess? I chose orange because it's fun and the best colour in the world. The others chose a seductive red, a flirty purple and a soft tantalising caramel. Sigh.

Next: We sat in a row of chairs that promptly set about massaging us as we soaked out feet in warm, scented water (we groaned our pleasure). Then the spa jets were turned on. Cue more groans. The rest of the pedicure passed in a haze of pleasure. Nails were trimmed, scrubs were used (actually, we had to hold each other's hands when the loofahs were brought to the party. Ticklish - much laughter, lots of fun), lotion liberally slathered on for foot and calf massages. Yes, it really is as good as it sounds. And then our nails were painted.

Afterwards: This is the picture we took.

Don't our feet look fabulous? My feet felt incredibly soft and smooth for days afterwards. And the flash of colour from my toenails makes me grin every time I take my shoes off! Seriously, the only thing missing from the whole experience was champagne, but we know better for next time.

Ooh yes, there will be a next time. This has to become a regular part of my life. Totally indulgent, totally impractical and totally fun. So do you have any other indulgent tips for this reformed-tomboy, girly-girl-in-the making? I'm starting to wonder what else I've been missing?