A Hand for My Hands

June 28th, 2011 § 12 comments

A Hand for My Hands


  • Tank – Ann Taylor Loft
  • Skirt – chopped from a J Crew Dress
  • Leather Belt – from L.
  • Stripped Belt – from another dress
  • Sandals – H & M
  • Pride Beads – Maui Street Fair
  • Earrings – Gift from S.


I warned you that due to my little yoga mat exercise I would be highlighting some pretty random parts during this round of DYB. Today I’m showing my hands some love.  I’ve always liked my hands, but would have never thought of them as something to celebrate on a style blog.  See, my hands are anything but ladylike.  They are large, tough, wrinkled, scarred, freckled.  I’ve had my nails manicured fewer times then I can count on my long, but less than slender, fingers.  I keep my nails super short and I often have dirt, compost, or paint under them. But, that’s just the way I like them!

Hands Hands

I’ve never much cared for long nails and nail polish just doesn’t last on these busy hands.   I have a big scar on my left hand that I have had since I was 9 or 10 and every summer more freckles seem to appear all over the tops of my hands.  I have very deep creases in my palms, which sweat when I’m anxious.  See, these are not the hands of a lady, but I love them just the same.

When I told A2 I was going to highlight my hands, she smiled and told me she loved my hands, especially my short well kept nails that always reveal what I’ve been up to that day.  She said I needed to photograph my hands holding a coffee cup, because when she thinks of my hands, she thinks of them wrapped around a coffee mug.

Do any of your body parts carry stories, reveal your secrets, or specially mark you as you? Are you giving them a gold star this week?

A Hand for My Hands

By the way, I’m counting this as blue and white striped outfit #7 even though it’s a bit of a stetch.  I do have a striped belt and a striped bag, but it’s not the outfit I had in mind. It’s just been too hot to pull out all my striped items.  Don’t worry they will make it out eventually.
A Hand for My Hands

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§ 12 Responses to A Hand for My Hands"

  1. poet says:

    I feel nearly the same way about my hands. They may or may not be conventionally pretty (I think they’re too short and wrinkled to pass, the boyfriend disagrees), but they are my most important physical tools, and I immensely value them for all they can do. I also can’t wear nail polish on my fingers, it just feels wrong!

  2. Mia says:

    I also chose to highlight my hands for one of my DYB posts–they’re not perfect and I have poor manual dexterity sometimes, but they do a lot for me, and they’re strong and capable, and I need to appreciate them more. (I have a big scar on my right hand from slicing it open on a swing set as a child, and my left hand–my writing hand–has a big callous on the ring finger from how I hold pencils and pens.)

    Your hands look like they do a good job of scratching that doggie’s chin!

  3. Carol N. says:

    I inherited my dad’s large hands and fingers – not exactly feminine. But I use my hands constantly and they have never let me down. I do needlepoint and quilting and all types of handwork as well as gardening and woodwork. And just wait till you get a little older and your ‘freckles’ become ‘age spots’. I’m facing that now and don’t know when they crossed over from cute to a mark of age! And once I decided that I need to keep the nails short, they grow like crazy and I’m constantly clipping them.

  4. Laura says:

    I love my hands too! They’re probably my favorite part of me even though I used to hate how they look. Now I realize I haven’t thought of how they look in longer than I can remember, except occasionally when I notice something scuzzy under the nails.

    I’m a writer. I usually type, because writing longhand hurts (old shoulder injury, scar tissue against a nerve…) but nevertheless, my hands serve the purpose. I am an excellent forger; my hands can take on the persona of most people, yet my own handwriting is hilariously unpredictable. Comparing the same letters written in the same sentences yields inconsistencies. I joke that if a handwriting analyst ever looked through my notebooks, they’d be highly concerned. I like my handwriting. I like that my hands produce inkspots that translate to words, sentences, ideas.

    I am a painter. With my stained hands, I make beautiful things, or ugly things, or terrible things, or wonderful things. I can control emotions and thoughts with my hands.

    I am a potter. With my scarred hands, I make bowls, and cups, and other things to use. Mugs for tea, glasses for liquor. I throw off center so that the porcelain flows crooked, pooling like water and rising like waves. My hands make unique things.

    I am a lover. My hands caress.

    I am a protector. When people leave their children with me, my hands smooth fine hair and sooth tears. They pick up books and toys. They make dinner. They send tantrums to their rooms to rage, and then hug and forgive when the storm ends. My callused hands are gentle.

    I am a defender. My hands know how to hurt people. My knuckles have been bruised, my tendons over-stretched. My hands can protect myself and others. My dry hands are strong.

    I like to climb things. My hands hold, support, balance. My small hands are reliable.

    I LIKE my hands. I like the sound of my knuckles cracking. I like the ache that runs from my little finger down my wrist when I’ve painted too long. I like the way my little finger sticks out when I drink tea or coffee with one hand, but I love the way both of my hands usually wrap around a mug, savoring the warmth, taking my time about it. I like the way my fingers dance lightly on the keys of my keyboard when I’m trying to decide what to write: I don’t press lightly enough to type, but the sound of my fingers moving is like raindrops hitting a window.

    I like my hands. And I’m glad you reminded me of how much I like them.

  5. Dawn says:

    I like my hands too. They are the hands of a hard working bike mechanic and avid cyclist, my hands are often covered in bike grease and dirt from fixing up bikes. They belong to my tomboy, and have the scars and swollen knuckles to tell of my adventures and mishaps.

    They’re also the hands of someone who cares. My hands cook healthy meals and delicious desserts to show my love for myself and other people, massage sore muscles and hug stress away.

  6. Jackie says:

    I love your skirt!

    I have a birth mark on one of my hands, right below my wedding rings. It’s just part of me and I love it!

  7. Jackie says:

    Also, hands wrapped around a coffee cup is one of my favorite images in pictures and writing. I can’t drink coffee, and I miss warming my hands that way!

  8. Lucy says:

    I like your doggie’s rainbow collar – tres chic!

  9. Tia says:

    Oh man! So my best friend is the only one who has ever noted this about me out loud and to my face, but I’m the same as far as nails. I don’t manicure them at all, so they’ve always got everything I’ve done that day underneath them. I think this is a great way to highlight your hands!

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