Many women, particularly young women, have such nails and are prepared to spend money on them. The result can look nice. But it's a thing that can be carried to bizarre extremes. More on that in a moment.
I'm now in Scotland, and yesterday I went into Kirkaldy, a seaside town in Fife with an industrial past. I have to say it seems to have lost its way. It certainly has a good beach, but it's backed by a bleak concrete promenade, and beyond that is a long, strung-out High Street that has decidedly seen much better days. There are pleasant residential parts in old central Kirkaldy, lined with big, comfortable-looking detached stone houses that might command a million pounds or more if up for sale in Sussex.
In my wanderings I did discover an active and well-kept bowling green, with a friendly Sunday-afternoon match in progress.
I had only just parked my car when I met a cheerful lady called Sandra, who had lived in Jersey for forty years, but was visiting family in Kirkaldy. We immediately started to chat, and in fact we walked the length of the High Street together. She was so nice. I was sorry to say goodbye. Here she is: