A doorbell chimes as I step into the fluorescent lighting of P&T Bright Nails. The salon is empty except for the nail technician, B.R., and Lina who is sitting at a rectangular reception desk overlooking the salon floor. ‘Hello,’ Lina says, ‘there are no customers yet, so you can wait here’, gesturing to a plush, curve-backed salon chair to the right of the door. I sit at a white table, one of six nail stations, and wonder apprehensively if today’s customers will agree to be observed. Taking a deep breath, I find the familiar smell of scented lotion and acetone surprisingly comforting. Digging out a notebook, I shuffle my backpack between my legs and begin to look around the room.

To my left, floor-to-ceiling glass windows run the length of the salon, overlooking the street. Posters of nail art models on glossy black backgrounds hang on the wall across from me. I turn my attention to the nail stations, two rows of narrow white tables that fill the room, each with wide, plush chairs opposite rigid, high-backed ones. At first glance, the tables are identical, but on closer inspection I can see small differences between the tools and layout of each table.

On the table in front of me is a horizontal LED light, illuminating an inset, circular particle extraction grille in the table’s centre. To the right of the grille sit nail polish bottles, a wide nail buff, and a large pump bottle dispenser of black cherry lotion, the source of the heavy, sweet scent that lingers in the salon. Behind the lotion is a grey mesh pen organizer containing a selection of brushes. Nail and cuticle clippers are hooked over the side. Lastly, a peach-toned mannequin hand with upturned palm models an ombré effect, the long, tapered nails fading from bubble-gum pink to white.

To the left of the grille is a domed UV lamp for drying and setting manicures. Tucked behind this is a short, metal-topped jar with the word “Tack” in red brush lettering, and a square blue, purple micromotor attached by a coiled, extendable wire to a handpiece. On top of the motor sit two dense foam blocks embedded with an assortment of rotary nail tools, cylindrical abrasives, and tapered burrs, a small conical glue bottle, and an elegant pair of gold-handled scissors.

A door chime breaks my focus, signalling the arrival of the first customer. A young woman with blond hair in a high ponytail and a long black puffy jacket closes the door behind her. After confirming the booking with Lina, the customer is guided to B.R., the nail technician near the far window. The customer presents an image on her phone to the technician, and I observe a rapid exchange: material, colour, shape, length, and detail. With little discussion, the flash of a Pinterest image is responded to with a light pink, then green polish swatch, an accepting nod. A short pause, then a responsive gesture to a nail profile printed on the table. An understanding is developed and a procedure established.

The technician is already on to the next step, the handpiece poised in his right hand as he reaches towards the customer with his left, palm open. The table extraction fan is switched on and the technician begins trimming and abrading each nail. Initial chops are made to the length in quick, definitive snips. The technician switches the micromotor handpiece on, the gentle whirr of sanding cutting into the dull hum of the extraction fan. I can hear changes in pitch as the rotating abrasive tool moves across the nail, veep vep veep. With one hand steadying the customer’s fingers and the other holding the handpiece, the technician uses gentle sweeping motions and changes in pressure to smooth out transitions between the natural nail and synthetic extension, preparing for a fresh acrylic set. Particles that escape the pull of the extraction bloom on hand and handpiece, building up into a soft, powdery film. The customer’s hands are pliable, guided by the technician with intuitive, steady precision. The technician’s practiced hand pressure guards against natural movement, an unforgiving jolt.

After each nail is trimmed and abraded, a transparent plastic container is placed on the table, with compartments marked one to ten. Each compartment holds long, milky-white nail tips. The technician picks up a number seven and adeptly applies it to the index finger. The first cut is completed, and, in a smooth motion, the hand is extended upwards, presenting the new length. A subtle nod from the customer sends the technician back to work. Two smaller angular cuts from the nail edge to tip are made, resulting in a blunt, angular profile. Each offcut is seamlessly fed into the table’s extraction grille; in a flow of sequences the process is repeated, each nail is extended and trimmed.

After a light coat of clear primer, two shallow containers are retrieved from a drawer and placed on the table: one with a clear monomer liquid, and the other with a fine, soft-pink acrylic powder. The technician wets a thick brush in the liquid, removing excess by pressing the bristles against the container’s rim before moving to the powder. The powder immediately merges with the liquid on the brush, saturating it with fine particles and forming a pea-sized lump. This bulky deposit is then moved to the nail and carefully brushed from the cuticle to the tip of each extension. The technician returns to the clear liquid, dipping the brush and reducing excess as before. He now begins to expertly compress and smooth the candy-pink glob over the nail using the soft bristles of the brush, gently removing excess in a sweeping motion from the cuticle and angling the brush to coax it into position from each side. The technician continues to guide the powder into place, wicking away excess with a controlled flick. Small globs of liquid powder build up on a paper towel below. This process is repeated until each nail becomes evenly coated with a soft pink layer. The technician releases the completed hand and reaches for the other. The customer gingerly places the freshly coated hand under UV light.

After curing, the nails harden to a matt, dusty-pink surface. This layer is then prepared for clear polish using a barrel-shaped rotary tool. The low buzzing vibration of the abrasive once again cutting into the hum of the extraction as the handpiece is guided in steady arcs across the nail, smoothing the surface. The nails are assessed again at this point, each index finger matched to the other, lengths adjusted if necessary, and any stray cuticle is trimmed. Finally, a wide nail buff is used to refine and polish each nail tip. The hands are continuously repositioned — palms down, edges softened, palms up, tips rounded and smoothed. The buff glides back and forth in blurry, successive motion until each edge is softened and even.

A thin palette, worn with dry white residue, is placed on the desk and a dab of green lacquer is added. With a fine-tipped brush, the technician meticulously paints green lines on the tip of each nail. The technician’s thumb and forefinger anchor the customer’s hand, delicate tapered lines are applied with focus and precision. I watch captivated, not one brushstroke out of place. A final clear coat is applied, covering the matt pink surface and green details in a glossy coat. Finally, fragrant orange oil is applied to each finger, gently massaged into the cuticles of each hand in smooth semicircular motions. The three of us admire the results. The customer is delighted and as they pack up their belongings and move towards reception, I shift my focus.

The salon is now animated, technicians and customers are engaged at each table. The door chime signals a new customer, ready to take their place in the now-vacant salon chair.