It's rare Podiatrists have a chance to dust off the old soapbox.
Apart from mine, which is polished like a Victorian teak handrail.
So, the Barbie Feet Challenge. As modeled by the rather divine Margot Robbie. You step out of your high-heels, hold the position, and walk.
Now, I'm not best placed to comment on its difficulty.
(Like shellac, I've never worn stilettos)
But I am well positioned on its risk of injury.
In my humble opinion, cosmetic surgery peaked in '92 with Pammie Anderson on Baywatch.
Nobody needed clocks in those halcyon days 30 years ago.
Every dad in the UK would dutifully sit on the sofa at 7 pm with an almost supernatural sense of timing.
Anyway, now the cutting and lifting are more inflated than I ever thought possible.
If, for some reason, you opt to get your toes removed, surgeons will always keep two of the five.
I'm bored writing about yellow corns and shellac toenails so I've been on a celebrity foot binge.
It brings up some interesting specimens.
Steven Tyler comes up time and time again as the King of Rubber-Neck Feet.
So what exactly is going on with his twisted trotters?
(Oh, btw, if circus tent feet are your thang, check out these gnarly exhibits)
"Shellac, shellac on the wall, where's the worst nails of them all?"
I say this to myself each morning before I start work.
I'm sick and tired of hearing a beautician's take on nail gel damage. It's like asking a circus owners opinion on dancing bears.
Shellac was everywhere a few years back. But of late, I've noticed a drop off in the miracle nail polish.
Is it a mini-rebellion against the damage that gel inflicts on your nails?
Now, I'm a Podiatrist, so this post is tailored to chalk-colored toenails.
But it also applies to the more common coated fingernails.
Your nail tissue is the same. The process is the same. The white spots and fungal nail infections are the same.
Your humble pinky toe is an unsung hero. Thanks to it, you know where the next unstable inch of ground lurks.
(Or if that step from the cab is too far after six Mojitos)
But what do you do as a way of thanks? You clamp, pinch and crush it all day long.
Yet, like a fairground fighter, it takes its licks. It recovers in silence and does the same the next day. And the one after.
Sometimes, though, those bouts take their toll. Instead of a slur and thick ears, you get callus and pain on your pinky toe.