On working independently, not alone

I graduated nail school the day before I had Tiger. That’s bonkers. Kodak was two weeks shy of one. I was four months pregnant with him when I started school, and he came at five and a half, so I was doing homework in the NICU. I was sitting there, doing five multiple choice quizzes while wrangling Kodak, and I got it done. And she’s like, all right, cool. I’ll submit this to the state, and you can come back tomorrow or next week for your certificate. I was like, no, I have to do this right now because I’m having my kid tomorrow. I was there for business. So I got my certificate, had Tiger the next day, and then I took a month off just hanging out with my babies.

It felt like school was a waste of time because I wasn’t going to use anything I learned other than sanitation. They’re like, “Acrylic is the only way,” which is the standard in America, but everyone else on the globe does gel. Usually I don’t see the forest for the trees, but this time, I was like, okay, I know I don’t want to work for anybody else anymore. I don’t just want a paycheck. I didn’t want to answer to anybody. I wanted to be myself, one hundred percent, and I wanted my kids to see that, too.

In the ’90s, there were five seconds where you could do crazy shit on your nails, but only in Los Angeles. Only in New York or Japan. Today, the accessibility to the internet—like, what does Meg Thee Stallion have on her nails right now?—makes it different, but before this you couldn’t really see nails unless they were in an editorial, or if you were in hip hop or Flo-Jo. I grew up in Denver and Arizona, where everyone and their mom were getting French tips. Just cute, dainty tips so they could just get through to like their next manicure.

I got in and got good at the right time. The dude I was dating, he’s a tattooer. As an anniversary present, he got me an appointment at the shop where I ended up apprenticing. We sat down, bro’d down, and she was like, “Oh, you should go to school and come work with me. You seem like you know what you want.” I did, but I got into it because I was bitching every single time I got my nails done and they weren’t right. I was like, “Cool, I’ll just do it myself.” At the end of the day, I just didn’t want people to feel how I felt, like damn. “I just spent all this money, and it’s not what I wanted.”

There’s trust involved too, though. People come to me and say, “Do whatever you want.” And I’m like, no. Let’s not do that. My crazy is different than your crazy, and if I don’t know you, I don’t want you to be disappointed. I’ve had a couple of babes for three and four years. We’ve done crazy different nails each time, but they’re still in the same four colors. I remember if you like your thumb and pointer finger short so you can take out your contacts.

But I have boundaries. Sometimes I feel badly, because I’m like, damn. “If you’re talking to me that way, how do you treat people when there’s a language barrier? When you’re talking about a trend or product they can’t access or have never seen?” I get bummed. If people can’t get their act together, they’re fired. That’s another reason why I got into doing nails. Like, at the end of the day, dude, they’re just nails. I’m not going to block you from seeing my story, I can suggest shops that align better with your personality and style, but I don’t think I’m your tech.

My style doesn’t change when it comes to respect and upholding my boundaries. I take pride that I’m the same, no matter who is in front of me. I have a client in her eighties, and she’s just a bad bitch. She’s a lawyer. Incredible pillar of a woman. Sixth or seventh generation white Coloradan. I can guarantee that she has never been called a bad bitch to her face, but when she comes into the shop, I drop F-bombs like always. I don’t switch it up. I take pride in the fact that I’m the same person online that I am in real life.

I was grateful for the time I spent in my first shop, and then it got weird. It got weird in a way where I was like, “I’m supposed to like my mentor. I’m supposed to be one of your friends.” But it wasn’t it. There were times when the standard that was set for me was different than everybody else in the shop. Like when me and baby daddy were going through a divorce, I would come in quiet and get pulled aside for having a bad attitude. Once I teared up speaking to my client about custody. Didn’t get up. Kept working. The next day, I was told I had to leave my drama at the door. That same day, another tech told every single person about having to put a restraining order on her ex, but she was “just being quirky.”

I was the fall guy. I set my boundary like, “Okay cool. I’ll be civil to you inside these four walls, but outside of that I don’t have to hang out with you.” And I got blamed because I set the boundary. Leaving and starting my own thing, and not getting gaslit for it? The first bad day I had owning my own shop, I remember walking in knowing I had a shitty attitude. My client list for that day was maybe six manicures, and I was friends outside of client relationships with one of the six. I was like, “Shit. It’s a make money day.” Then I crossed the threshold of my own shop. All of my art, all my business partners. And I was like, wait. This is fucking fine. That’s when I knew I’m not a stormcloud. The validation I have received since leaving [the old shop]… when Crystal [Castro] and I left to open our own thing, everything cool about that shop left. There are still no POC working there, in a building that used to be one of the first Black-owned businesses in Denver. It always felt shitty. The justification was “If it’s not our shop, it’s gonna be something else.” I was always, “that feels gross, maybe don’t say that out loud.”

People are gonna find out who you are and what you stand for. You do not need my help. My dad’s mom was like that. Her senior photo, a glamour shot, and one where she’s eating ice cream are all up in my station. My compass definitely comes from her.

I think it’s weird that Indigo is on my bio and people refer to me as my Instagram name. I will never be comfortable with that. It’s just nails. It is just nails. I’m not saving lives. Getting recognized out in the wild for nails feels weird. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. So many people are all, “Oh, you’re Fingerspice!” I’m like, “Yeah. I’m Indigo.” I ain’t shit. When I first started doing all the TikToks and reels, not many other nail techs were putting their face to their videos. I didn’t even have the biggest following, but because I was a person instead of hands on a feed, people recognize me. “She’s goofy, I want to talk with her.”

What I want from it all is to be independent. Have my own shop. Work with babes. I don’t want to make money off my friends. I want all of us to make money and have our bills paid. Rae Lyn Paton, Crystal Castro, and I, we’re all three owners. We’re all on the lease, we all split everything. It’s funny, because my homeboys are all, “You’re the boss, you have to start charging people,” and I’m all, “The bills are getting paid for a fraction of what they were before.” Everyone’s making money. Everyone’s taken care of. The other independent contractors, like Hailey Vaughan, who are paying me booth rent? Okay, I don’t need to look at your books or your client list. As long as you show up and do your job, we’re good. Knowing your role when you’re in it, and keeping that understanding and communication open and honest, that’s the move.

I keep getting invited back to do these famous people—I get to do their nails because I treat them like I treat everyone. I just give respect. Whenever I take my stuff to location or travel to a different state to do someone before a show, I don’t take advantage of you just because you make more money than me. I’m going to charge you what I charge everyone. I’ve been invited back because I don’t blow people’s shit up, and I treat them like people. I don’t really fangirl. It’s just genuine. I grew up listening to your music and now I get to do your nails, but I’m just going to make sure my expenses are paid. I’m grateful I listen to my own self on that, because it’s fared well.

When I first started, I didn’t want to do nails forever. My body hurts. But my mindset has changed now that I’m doing shit I remember saying I didn’t want to do: have my own shop, be responsible for anyone else. There’s still enough nails for everyone. I just want everyone to succeed, genuinely. If I was still at that other shop I would have exited Stage Left, but that is another thing that’s changed. I just want to keep doing cool shit and nails that people like.

My values and what I want hasn’t changed from day one to day now. I give a fuck about your natural nail health, and I want to pass off the education I have learned to you, so if you can’t get your nails done by me you can get them done, accurately, by someone else. I’ve had babes move and their new nail tech has hit me up to be like, “Okay, what’s on her nails? What were you using?” I just want the information and education to be out because I care about your health and safety. Hot girls don’t gatekeep. I’ll tell you the polish, the brush I use. I’ll send you links. I’m going to have full books because of the product I put out, and there’s no reason to be a mean girl.

It genuinely makes people feel good, so even if we’re in a recession, people will find a way to get their nails done. It’s self-care to the core. It brings people together, and we do cool shit, so it’s a good conversation. It’s very gender-affirming, no matter what. Shit, I feel better, too.

I’m known for the flames. One of my favorite nail techs, Asa Bree Sieracki, she just rips. She’s one of the reasons I wanted to do nails like how I do nails. I wanted to be as good as her for forever, her flames in particular. They were very Malificent. Black base, purple and green flame. I remember staring at them during Covid, and I got really good. Now I’ve taught so many people how to do the hot rod flames that I switched it up and started doing ghoul flames, like Japanese tattoo art. From the cuticle down instead of the tip up. I think I am a poor teacher because I have to show you. “This is how I do it.” I can’t tell you. That’s the brush, that’s the paint. Go for it.

Every single flame post I did, I would tag Guy Fieri. I’m like, he’s Flame Daddy. I’m the Queen of Flames, you need to know who I am. He needs to hit me up, I’m kind of mad I haven’t heard from him yet. But there is time.