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nisestylez · 7 years

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Weed Nails Are The Hottest New Controversial Manicure Taking Over The Beauty World

There’s a new, hazy nail art trend on the block, and it might be even crazier than all the rainbow fads we’ve been seeing. Say hello to weed nails. This unique weedicure isn’t just leaf designs and innuendo – nope, with this edgy method, they insert actual pot into gel manicures, letting everyone know your stance on legalization.

When the standard acrylic nail art just isn’t enough, some clients turn to mother nature, letting its own natural beauty adorn their fingertips.

This trend has been flourishing over the past couple of years as a way to celebrate the legalization of medicinal and recreational pot, bringing it out of a taboo sphere and into a more conversational mainstream one.

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A time to celebrate the age of the pothead rather than criticizing based on stereotypes that simply aren’t true, colliding with the high-fem world of nail salons. We love it.

The process of getting one of these manicures is less scary than you think – although you do need a medical marijuana card, there’s no extra charge to the manicure compared to the other nail art they offer.

Weed Nails Are The Hottest New Controversial Manicure Taking Over The Beauty World

Louisiana Pham, a manicurist who owns Orchid Nail Lounge in Santa Clara, California, has been creating high nail art for a couple of years in. The gorgeous designs make us want to pack our bags and head to the West Coast ASAP – how about you?

One of Louisiana’s regular clients uses medical marijuana to medicate herself, she wanted a style that would fit a marijuana convention called Hemp Con, starting with a simple leaf design. But Pham, being the professional she is, didn’t want the design to come off as goofy or “cartoonish”.

So she offered the client to bring her own herb in for some inspiration.

After crushing the pot into small pieces, the manicure artist then embedded the leaves in gel polish on half of the nails, with the remaining painted black and green with a dripping gold glitter design to imitate the look of cannabis oil, or kief (the hypnotizing crystals that fall off ground weed). It looks lovely with just clear nail gel polish as well, if you’re looking for a more toned down look.

The final product is a look that’s both pretty and edgy – sort of like if Cruella Deville and Ursula from “The Little Mermaid” went out for a girl’s night with Rihanna and Katy Perry. It sort of gives the illusion that dried, pressed flowers look like on paper – so natural yet mesmerizing.

Pham’s art and unusual client inspiration was the beginning of weed art not just for her as a nail artist, but for nail artists all over, since people at her client’s convention were very impressed and captivated by the client’s unique nail art. A request for a single convention-specific manicure has spawned a polarizing trend all over the nail design world.

Ultimately, this is nail art at it’s most elevated – *no pun intended*. Seriously though, a little pot and a little sparkle can make a big difference in the originality factor of your manicure .We’re sure that a lot of folks will be asking, and all of them will be wowed. If you’re not pro legalization, this nail art might change your mind and is a fun way to show it. And if you’re a ganja + glam loving babe, then we think we’ve found your next favorite beauty trend.

For more Fashion & Beauty Trends, keep visiting us 🙂

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http://nicestyles.ca/beauty/nails/weed-nails-hottest-new-controversial-manicure-taking-beauty-world/

#Beauty #Fashion #Manicure #Weed Nails

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trippykippy-blog · 7 years

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what the fuck is going on?

i miss my father.

hes fucking dead.

got too high on ecstasy,

laughing friends radio blaring,

splattered blood and bent skull on the concrete.

but this wasnt how he needed to go....

it was in a room of the people who loved him the most

souls all writhing and screaming for a reason

dirty tears mixed with skin oils, like a lather

the baby is screaming ‘daddy wake up’

he cant here you. hes brain dead.

too much fun, leads to no race won.

they pulled the fucking plug

i miss my mother.

she might as well be.

you guys would all have more peace that way anyways.

dont fucking act like you care, just because i checked on you.

i dont want this bedroom brain.

everything is a rental, nothing is possesed.

i wish my fucking dad was here. too fucking bad huh?

youd think id be used to it by now.

where is my mom at? dead to the world.

probably somewhere curled up to a small oak tree.

on a bed of pinecones, with pricks in her back.

lie down on your dead leaf pillow.

make friends with the beasts of night.

drinking blood from a cup, drawing in it crecents upon your doors.

black widow, spit your venom spin your web.

im grown now. grown enough to have nothing and be nothing.

dump her off on me, give me scotch tape and tell me its my job to piece her back together.

call me a fool for the smile on my face. youre ugly. im ugly. you made me ugly. look at us.

where should i stay with all these pieces?

“do you have a tent?”

i wish i had a tent made out of the canvas of my beating heart.

dont vent to your friends, unless you like them black as charcoal, and sick as congested liver.

sharp yellow snot cuts the back of your throat, tonsils all full with the left overs of the dope you pour into your face, shoots out your mouth, in string, living in your windpipe, ejected by force, foam slaps the tile floor, cheeks turn red.

“why are you drooling on yourself”?

throbbing face corner, twitching left eye.

finally tears.

cleansing the slits i see out of. rib skinned rubber band.

they eat you desolate. trees of thick forests and sharp knives.

you miss your family?

what family?

your brother barely even knows who you are, dont you remember him?

your grandmother watches you wear down, your skin drag down under your eyes, fighting yourself every day, and it drains her. she isnt so nice anymore you know.. why did you do that to her? holes torn in the paper walls, doors broken in half, cant see through the black and red, mop in her eyes, she tries to hold the hope that not everything is ugly. innocent and fucking nieve. thats the way she likes it. or.. did. until year 3 of the blender. crows feet, butterfly fabric, scaly hands, that pat your back when your head is in your chest and your dripping the fluids again. the same hands that reach across, the car, going 60 mph to feel, your cold hand, and press some warmth back into them. she will stand watching, she wants people to look. she planted him in the dirt like seed, but he tore her garden up like weeds. she tried to cut and whack them down, but cut herself, i watch her drown. she smiles and nods, and carrys on - i know she doesnt like me.

your mother warns you of the potholes in the road, - a yield sign, shes been here before. dead end. turn back now. a few nice words when you feel upset over nothing. a heart too big to pump oxygen. holes in your face that admit youve been studying. lizard eyes. purple locks of hair, dry and stale into red broom straw. 23% of the time she lives without care, peace sign thrown in the air. the rest of it, means hell to pay for every person involved, she loves her son the most :) she talks riddles, runs at night, spits out bees. “what the fuck are you looking at?” vodka lights up her eyes, but she falls apart inside. magical circles race around her rounded head. stuck on repeat. the straw in her hand she stabs in her nose. you reach to help. oh wait, youre just looking in the mirror again. haunting endless echoes of bathroom doors being shut and water running to no avail, never ending sound of stream, a white painted fram, round opener, you look so pretty today.

moms sister, carries the weight of her own sins, lost in a world of red blazing demons. brain gnaw. first fulls of hair, giving self black eyes, she ends up with a crazy toothy smile anyway. eyes go from white and brown to brown and black. permanent frown. acidentally falling asleep on the grass. the cigarette on the property that strictly prohibits this very thing. plastic chemical bottle. cooked dinner that night.

dads brother, cant even look at you. his face is inside you. it is a bed of nails here. crack, ecstasy, and methamphetamines for dinner. tooped with marijuana, a dash of lsd, magic mushrooms of ‘please dont look at me, because when you do i see my dead brother’

grandfather hid dead bodies and poked people till they hurt and would bleed. hed take everything in sight. what he thought he needed. short gasps around. little did he know, thered be nothing left of no one to call a family.

i dont have to tell you that

your father watches you from either above the clouds or below the fiery pits of hell. and he’s bittersweet and all knowing.watches you gnaw on fruit. i bet you dont ever stop to think that he is black behind gods shoulders but he’d do anything to snap you out of it. oh well. its not up to him, faggot. its up to you. kill him over and over and over again, and expect him to call. you dont know who he is and he doesnt know who you are. and the funniest part is, you never will.. guess you dont like him enough. he wouldnt have liked you very much anyways mom says.

you better be glad you have a mere morsel of jump left to kick out of that lazy ass, and friends who like to see the race go on pull you up and carry your dead weight across another mile mark. heat stroked. hot heavy sweating body on the pavement. i feel like a pair of wooden crutches, walked on for 58 years... worn. have history. not cold or shiny. down to earth. rubbery bouncer edges. leaned on to walk right through you. cut trees. burn leaves. dry heaves. cant breathe.

“thank you”

you will never live together as one. you will die alone, as the only son.

oh yeah, your face looks like its about to fall of your skull. i hope you get control back of those face muscles. i hope next time i seen you youve washed your face or changed your clothes... you care not for yourself and not for others. drown in spit, tired kid.

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