Pearl Harbor

As my Valentine's Day present to you, here it is. The motherlode.



Remember when the Japanese navy sank virtually the entire American fleet without a declaration of war? Thousands were killed and more were wounded, before they even knew they had an enemy to face. Pain and death rained from the sky, unforeseen and undeserved. The nation was outraged; we swore the date would live in infamy. I just didn't think we would commemorate it like this.

What MONSTER would name a nail polish after this maelstrom of hate? The brand name is Sinful Colors? You're not kidding me! Who thinks that Pearl Harbor is a charming color to put on her nails? Eva Braun?

I just hope they come out with some other colors for this brand. Spring Fling is coming up and I think some sparkly September 11th would really set off my dress.

Frosted Ice Calypso

I'm not angry. I'm just...confused.

No, that's a lie. I'm angry. I only got this stupid nail polish because it was the closest thing I could find in color to my favorite toenail polish, Blue For My Baby, which suddenly vanished from all drug stores the same week and I have never been able to find again. The least they could do is replace it with something with an awesome name.

But no. Now it's just me, my toes, and Frosted Ice Calypso.

I would be less angry if any ONE of these words applied to this:



Frosted? Ice? Unless somebody tripped in your snowy yard with a barrel of hazardous waste, I am pretty sure that neither of these words should apply to what is, essentially, turquoise. Ice is clear, white, or MAYBE light blue. I am being generous here. Don't push me.

So that leaves us with...calypso. Is that the Afro-Caribbean style of music originating in Trinidad and Tobago? Because I really don't think that is a color. I am looking up the flag of Trinidad and Tobago to make extra-sure they didn't slip a clever reference in here. Nope. It's black, red, and white.

So it's not that kind of calypso. Please tell me they aren't talking about the nymph who imprisoned Odysseus on her island for seven years. I admit it, I only kind of skimmed the Odyssey, but I think I would have stopped and paid more attention if it mentioned that she was a vibrant blue-green. Also, I feel like that story didn't end so well for her. Maybe I should stop using this nail polish before Zeus steps in to make my baby daddy leave me for his wife.

Raven Red

You know, I totally see where they were going with the name here. Ravens are mysterious, elegant. They make me think of Poe. Xenu knows that with the vampire fad going on these days, anything with "raven" in the name should sell like gothcakes.

And I understand affirmative action. I think it's great that a well-respected cosmetics company like Revlon is willing to take a stand and provide much-needed jobs to those with disabilities.

Just one small problem:


RAVENS AREN'T RED.

Next time, assign the color-blind employees to something not requiring them to differentiate between this:



and this:

Huckle Buckle

Before you scroll down, try to imagine what color Huckle Buckle is.

It could be the color of a buckle, right? Perhaps a brassy gold, or even silver.

Or it could be the color of a huckleberry. I don't know what color huckleberries are, but in my head they are deep blue. Or purple. Or black. I guess they could be red. Berry tones, right?

Nope.

This is Huckle Buckle:


Looks harmless, doesn't it? Almost genteel. How is it that this nail polish has a name that makes me want to drawl "Cletus! Is ol' Bessie ready for the milkin' yet? We need somethin' to feed them chillens besides the squirrel you shot on Old Man Rafferty's land while you were gettin' your Stars 'n' Bars ready for the Skynryd concert!"

The genesis

I remember the very first stupid nail polish name that won my heart. I was a young lass in middle school with a nail polish collection bountiful enough to paint the Sistine Chapel. I collected hues of every color so I could paint my nails in ROY G BIV order. No matter what colors I chose they were inevitably topped off with enough sparkles to manufacture a disco ball.

But I had never really looked at the names. One day I idly flipped over one of my favorite bottles, a beautiful sparkly purple. My jaw dropped in awe.

SUGARPLUM FAIRY?

Did someone stay up all night watching the Nutcracker when he was paid to be brainstorming names? Did I really want my nails to have all the allure of a small girl in a puffy tutu? At least it was accurate in that I could fully believe any male executive who sanctioned this name was a fairy indeed.

I wondered if I could ever enjoy this nail polish again knowing that its name was so horrifically stupid. Then I realized, it was EVEN BETTER.