Ten years of professional ballet have not been kind to my feet. I’ve always been too embarrassed to get a salon pedicure, which leaves the task of prettifying my extremities up to me. A well-intentioned friend recently gave me a home-pedicure kit packed with everything from a heated foot spa to nail files. I was thrilled—until I discovered there’s nothing relaxing about a home pedicure. The foot spa was so ginormous, I had to fill it in the bathtub and wound up spilling half the contents en route to the living room. Though it felt lovely once I dipped my feet in, I realized halfway through that I’d forgotten to grab a towel to dry off. Perfect. From there, I tiptoed to the bathroom for the exfoliation, a phase that found me perched precariously on the tub’s edge, attempting to scrub my feet without falling in. After using the shea butter–and-peppermint foot cream, I started painting my toenails but spilled so much polish that my bathroom floor resembled a crime scene. In the end, my feet did look more attractive, but I was exhausted. My mother always told me that I’d thank her for getting me started in ballet. As I attempted to remove the polish from the floor, I could think only one thing: Thanks a lot, Mom. —Juliette Miranda

Photo credit: A. L. Spangler