Unrealistic Expectations

So, once again, I find myself dealing with gel-polish issues. This time, another high-end brand of gel-polish has presented itself fully cured in the bottles.

This one is one of the “all gel” formulas, so no one can tell me that it’s the “solvents” evaporating that are causing “hardening.” The stuff is straight-up curing in the bottles. And that means the bottles aren’t lightfast. And putting a light-cured product into a bottle that isn’t lightfast seems like a pretty easy trouble-shooting process.

Now, maybe this batch of bottles got a bad powder coating job, because I have about 40 bottles of this brand and only five of them are giving me fits. And the company has told me they will be sending me replacements — even though their e-mail correspondence hasn’t asked me for my address or anything. Maybe they’ll look me up online and send a chauffeured limo with a personal delivery detail to bring them to me on a silk pillow?

At this point in my relationship with gel-polish, I have conceded that I apparently have unrealistic expectations of the stuff. Most brands live up to my requirements just fine in actual use and performance. It’s the part where I have to keep several bottles of the stuff in my inventory, waiting to be used, that the product seems to get bored with.

I am unwilling to accept that I’m supposed to wrap each bottle lovingly in a black satin bag, put the bag in a cardboard box, and place each tiny box into a special little nook inside a cabinet that has been lined with blackout cloth and protected from the outside world by a double-door system, thus ensuring that absolutely no light ever reaches them. Am I? I mean, that does seem like the sort of thing that manufacturers should put in the directions.

Maybe I should keep them in the basement? My building does have a basement (rare for many buildings in California). It’s creepy, but dark. So maybe I should consider that option?

Maybe, eventually, gel-polish companies will develop packaging that is actually, reliably, light-proof. Until then, it seems obvious that every year, I can expect to lose several precious, expensive bottles of product to the hazards of sitting on a polish rack.

I’m used to polish lasting pretty much until it’s empty. I can keep a bottle of traditional polish for years. I can keep jars of traditional gel for years. But gel-polish can’t hack these expectations.

So I’m willing to make a compromise: Guarantee your product for one year. Just one year. Is that too much to ask? So I at least know that when I unscrew that cap and the brush is welded into the polish, I don’t have to dread contacting my distributor or the manufacturer to argue my case like an episode of “Law and Order.” I can just replace it.

I’m totally willing to keep my receipts for this.