Do This In Private #1: Nose Picking

There are a host of things that need to be done in private: clipping nails, copulation, makeup application, and nose picking. Public figures and people in automobiles tend to be most inclined towards this egregious activity. I'm not referring to people with tinted windows either. Apparently the clear window is supposed to act as an invisible barrier. The driver is under the impression that no one is able to see him digging for gold.

As is the case with those folks who like to clip their nails on the bus or subway, public nose picking puts one on the same level as your garden variety serial killer. Truly, a public nose picker is no better. They're both menaces society and care only about themselves. These same public nose pickers will tell you, "I was just scratching my nose."

Just scratching your nose? Not drilling for oil? Not scratching an itchy brain? A true shame in the de-evolution of decorum. What's worse is that these people will be all too eager to shake your hand, sample the food on your plate; etc. Not only is it in poor taste. It can kill you. A poor old chap in the UK accidentally died from chronic nose picking.

The proper thing to do—if you sincerely can't wait to excuse yourself to the WC—is to take out a lovely (preferably monogrammed) handkerchief and pretend to blow your nose. Do a quick poke and swirl and get rid of the offending booger. Whatever you do, please be discreet about it.

It's Called Nailpolish Remover

Ladies, ladies, ladies. There's nothing worse than some chipped fingernail polish. It can cheapen you faster than fishnet stockings and clear platforms. The other day, on the L train no less, I saw a young woman chipping away at her nails. Not only were the flecks of paint flying in different directions—which could have easily landed in someone's eye and injured them—but she was ruining her nails underneath.

When the Chinese invented nail varnish around 3000 B.C., they had no idea that they were creating a potential weapon. But what's even more dangerous is that a bit of your own nail comes off when you deliberately hack away at your digits.

Short, shaped, and groomed nails are the loveliest accessories a woman can have. One of the least expensive, too. If you're decked out in a beautifully structured Lanvin dress and Pierre Hardy shoes, makeup to the nines, hair perfectly coiffed, and ragged nails, what's the point of getting out of bed at all?

Details ladies, details. If your nails are slightly chipped, the remedy is relatively small and takes little time. Dab a bit of polish remover on the index finger of the hand WITHOUT the chipped nails and gently smooth the offending area until the edges are smooth. Apply the necessary amount of coats to the nail and seal it with a clear polish protector. If you have several chips on different fingers and/or your manicure is over a week old, it's time to start from scratch.

The old adage of being able to tell a lot about a person by the shoes they wear applies to nails as well. Chipped nails may convey laziness or lack of attention to detail. While it may not signal the end of the world, you certainly won't be bringing your A-game. Early last year, the New York Times did an article on the chipped nail as a trend. You don't follow that trend. It's not for you.

Smell Ya Later

Hey Mister, looking good. You know it, too...but I can smell you. You're waaaaaaaaaay over there and I'm waaaaaaaay over here.

Listen gents, as a Style Therapist I can really appreciate you taking the time to bring your A-game. But does this attention to detail HAVE to involve so much cologne? My nostrils are on fire and my eyes are watering. It's not even that your Eau de Homme smells bad, there's simply too much of it on your body. Take it easy for the public's sake...please!

We can still smell you 10 minutes after you've left the building. I know what you do, too. You lay your outfit on the bed and spritz the cologne all over—front AND back. In your mind, this is the subtle way to get your scent out into the atmosphere. But you don't stop there. You put it in your hair, on your neck, the palms of your hand—you refuse to leave any molecule unbathed in your special spice.

Please give the public's olfactory nerves a break. Your cologne seeps into our skin, attaches itself to our hair, our couches, car seats and any other surface that absorbs odors. My advice is to spritz in the air and run through the mist. That way only someone close enough to whisper can smell you. You're more appealing and mysterious that way. While you may be suffering from colognism, it's manageable disease. And in some cases, I've known it to be cured.

Messy Hair Only Works for Trolls

There's something going on with hair today and it isn't right. People have been walking around, looking like true hot messes with their hair unkempt. It's morally wrong to have an Afghan Hound walking around looking better than you.

There's a young lady in several of my classes whose hair is never, ever combed. If the problem only existed in the morning, I'd assume that she had been rushing and forgot to run a brush through her hair. And if the problem were strictly PM, it would have meant the possibility of a long and stressful day. But she always seems frazzled, with her hair pasted to her forehead and cheeks. I'm not sure what to make of all of this. Often, she'll run her hand from the front to back; sometimes creating a pompadour. Other times, she'll sweep her hair from one side to the next, resulting in a mock comb-over. My suggestions to her are few, and easy to accomplish:

1. Take a big dollop of any Gatsby product, run it through wet hair, and create a chignon. It's sleek, sophisticated and she never has to worry about looking sweaty.

2. Take it all off for a low-maintenance GI Jane look. Sure it'll encourage stares, but that's from jealous women who spend their weekends under the hairdryer for hours over the weekend.

3. Invest in a good, quality wig or lace front weave. Don't forget to get the one with baby hairs! Makes for a more realistic look. Unlike her natural hair, she doesn't have to worry about the matted look she's prone to.

Now hold on a minute, you gents are not off the hook. Yesterday, on the R train (shocked that it wasn't the L?), I saw a young grizzly bear. At least I think it was a young grizzly bear. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, speaking to a young man and staring at people. But when your chest hair connects to your neck hair connects to your facial hair connects to your head of hair: that makes you a grizzly bear!

I blame Boho Chic for my classmate's current state. Just because MK does it, that doesn't make it ok for the rest of us. And as for the young man, I really do believe he was a grizzly bear. I can't attribute his condition to anything other than being a grizzly bear.