The Politics of Self-Care

Every purchasing decision you make is marketed to you as an investment toward achieving your best self…but at what cost? 

A significant number of nail technicians across the country are victims of labor violations [1].  They are an American population routinely taken advantage of because of their immigrant status, gender, and/or absent knowledge of employee rights. Their exploitation is often, shamelessly visible. Yet patrons who relish a $20 manicure, willfully bargain off a person’s dignity and wellbeing in exchange for an hour or two of self-care.

Who is at fault. The industry? The consumer? Both?

Our woman-owned business feature today models the power of consumer choice and industry practice. Jacqueline Fay, owner of Grit + Polish, leads her business with fine-tuned processes that show sustainable and profitable possibilities for nail and skin salon owners to follow; while leaving consumers fault-free of labor violations to enjoy pampered escapes that beautify from the inside out.

Grit + Polish

When you learn about Jacqueline Fay, you realize the name Grit + Polish not only applies to her place of business, but is definitive of her commitment and respect for herself and her employees. Grit + Polish is a nail and skin salon committed to accessible wellness and luxury, without the detrimental cost of employee exploitation. Its operations and ethical business practices are led by a socially conscious yet profit driven model. Fay’s vision of establishing economic freedom is realized and measured by purposeful actions to protect employee wellbeing; while sophisticating client-centered services and experiences. 

Mindful Manicures

Fair wages and creating a safe and regulated work environment is definitive of Fay’s, grit. Before opening her location, she studied, researched, and first-hand experienced her industry’s shortcomings and became committed to act against the injustices she came across. 

Her actions involved providing source-captured vents and built-in exhaust fans and carbon filters at each manicure table to collect and absorb dust and fumes. Each foot bath provides pipeless jets to circulate the water in the basin in order to prevent the risk of bacterial growth that can lead to infection. Each tool or implement used on a client is immediately taken to an autoclave to become disinfected.

From her choices in meticulously selected product ingredients; gender neutral aesthetics; hospital-grade sanitation, sterilization; and air filtration and water therapy systems — Fay’s polish is unrivaled. 

I experienced confident, informed, trained and valued technicians providing a service—NOT a labor.

– Bettina V.-L.

Once you experience the quality and standard of care from a nail and skin establishment like Grit + Polish, any other way to invest in self-care–is wrong.

It’s a strong statement to make, but as Jacqueline Fay describes her business concept to us: It’s a political one.

When A Nail Salon Makes A Political Statement By Jacqueline Carrera Fay

Starting my nail and skin studio in Princeton NJ was, in many ways, a political statement that is growing more relevant, living with an American President who puts children in cages at our border and tells people who look like me to “go back” where they came from.

Grit + Polish was inspired by a New York Times expose in 2015 that described horrendous sanitation and working conditions in nail salons that exploit undocumented workers. Most of these workers are from Asian countries, brought here under false pretenses, and forced to live and work under conditions akin to modern slavery.

I had long suspected these problems, but finally saw the opportunity to take action locally by starting a nail salon that operates ethically and legally, providing fair pay to women of all backgrounds, and creating a nurturing refuge for staff and customers. 

I started the business in October 2016, just before the shocking result of the Presidential election.  I expected to be working in an era of women’s empowerment, following the election of the first woman president in American history.  What actually happened has been well documented, including by my husband, Brad, who was quoted by Hillary Clinton in her book, What Happened.

While I was born in this country, my birth occurred only six weeks after my mother’s arrival in New Jersey from Havana, Cuba.  My mother made the trip in May 1971 because she had papers only for herself and three children—I was to be her fourth, and there would be no papers for me to accompany her if I were born in Cuba.  

It was “now or never” for my mother, Hilda, who made enormous sacrifices as a single immigrant mother of four children in West New York, NJ.

We grew up poor and at times went without dinner at night or without heat in the winter, particularly after President Reagan acted to cut off “welfare queens” who he said were cheating the system. That intolerant label was not a fair description of my mother.  

She always worked, often at multiple jobs.

She worked in factories, putting beauty and apparel products in packages for retail.  During the football season she helped clean up the stands after home games at Giants Stadium, hard and unpleasant work.  Her work often forced her to leave the children fending for themselves, with me in the care of my older siblings.

My mother’s hard work paid off. I finished high school, attended and graduated from college, and made it into corporate life, managing pension plans and earning a six-figure salary at a big pharma company.

I am confident I paid back into our economy more than the government invested in my family when I was growing up.

Yet when I hear crowds at political rallies today yelling, “send her back” about a sitting Congresswoman, I can’t help but feel a finger pointing at me and my mother, recent immigrant women of Spanish and African heritage.

There is a cruel hypocrisy in how immigration laws are being enforced.  Brown people who look like me are rounded up at the Mexican border, children separated from adult family members, and everyone locked in cramped cages without adequate sanitation, food, and places to sleep.  

Meanwhile, our leaders cast a blind eye to the rampant immigration and labor law violations by the owners of nail salons, massage parlors, hotels and resorts, and factory farms. 

Undocumented workers are being victimized by these businesses operating in plain sight—including businesses owned by the President’s family and associates—because their undocumented status makes it impossible for workers to stand up for legal pay and treatment.

It is difficult to make a living operating a salon legitimately when most of my competitors do not.

Recently I felt compelled to write a column “Why $25 is a Fair Price to Pay for a Manicure” because too many customers have gotten used to paying $12 or $15 for manicures—which is impossible for a salon that complies with labor and immigration laws.  The article was popular and shared widely via social media. To me, that was a sign that people sense something is wrong with how these other places operate, and that they have sensed a sadness in the woman sitting across the table in a cheap salon, as she provides them with a highly personal service.

Nail salons deliver more than manicures and pedicures.  They also satisfy a deep human need to be cared for, listened to, groomed, and touched.  Salons should be caring places, and that can only happen if we treat salon employees fairly and with dignity.  

My salon serves a wide variety of customers—all races and ethnicities, gender identities, and all political persuasions.  My staff and I are diverse as well. I deliberately located the business in Princeton’s historically black neighborhood, Witherspoon-Jackson, the most diverse in the town.  

By welcoming and caring for everybody, we are sending a political message of inclusiveness that I believe changes minds and opens hearts, something that’s more important than glowing skin, healthy feet, and nice nails.