With Nails and I

Okay, the J. Crew toenail polish thing.

If you haven’t seen it, evidently some people are wigging about a J. Crew ad that’s got a little pictorial that involves a mom painting her small son’s toenails hot pink. Evidently, they think that’s how you get the gay. Or the transgender. Or something.

Here’s what I’d like to ask the people who are freaking out - So, what you’re telling me is that if your mother had slapped some OPI “I’m India Mood” on your tootsies, you would have turned out a drag queen? A little high-gloss acrylic would have irrevocably flipped your switch and you’d be a screaming queen? Really? Really? Really? Is there something you’re trying to tell us?

Cause my Moms basically let me dress like a boy for my entire 4th grade year, and I still likes the mens. Okay, I’ll admit I still get a little bit of ya-yas from rocking the Annie Hall look (cause I look fierce as hell in it), but that’s about as non-gender normative as I get these days. And, oh, by the way, I’m secure in my sexuality. I don’t have to worry that gay is communicable. I know who I am. How about you? Really, what kind of horrible, scary place do you think the world is that something as simple as a little nail polish could radically change your identity? Get a grip.

Of course this coming from a gal who has a documented taste for boys in guy-liner. And an slight obsession with one Mr. James Franco. Hubba hubba. But really, a little pink nail polish on a boy’s toes? If he’s gay or trans, it’s because he was long before the pink touched his toes. And if he’s straight, someday he’s going to be a secure, confident man who will make some lucky girl very happy someday. Not the least of which is because he understands what it takes to do a good pedicure.

And, geez! Get a grip.