when sandal season just isn't reason enough

"Think about it," my friend Sadie explained over drinks last night, "Your body follows where your feet lead. So if you're smart about the colors you choose for your pedicure, if you choose them with intention, you can sort of nudge yourself in the right direction."

"Oh my GOSH," Caroline, our resident fashionista and seriously the smartest girl I know, drawled, "Totally!"

"What are you talking about?" say I, ever dubious.

"O.P.I. has these really great names for their polish colors," Sadie said. "I've decided that whatever I want my life to be like for the season of the pedicure, my polish should reflect that. In January I painted my toes Can't-a-Berry Have Some Fun and it was perfect!"

January, I should tell, you was the month Sadie was dating a completely inappropriate but smokin' hot Matthew McConaughey-type lawyer after a six month self-imposed stint of celibacy.

"This month I'm wearing Most Honorable Red," she continued with what I can only describe as a giggle.

I should now tell you that recently she's rekindled a romance with another -- only this time completely appropriate and yet still smokin' hot -- lawyer type.

"You think that really works, huh," Jess asked, celibate lately too, though like me (sadly), not so much by choice.

"I know it does," Sadie said.

"Totally," Caroline, seriously the smartest girl I know, confirmed.

"Well, then I want a color," Jess said, popping an olive in her mouth and swigging down the last sip of her Martini, "called Blushing Spring F*ck."

And that, my friends, is why one gets a pedicure.