I had a great time with "Nails," a risograph zine from Superbloom* and Secret Riso Club. Shawn Williams's foreword sets the tone beautifully, zeroing in on the solidarity between Vietnamese and Black working-class communities. It got even gaggy when she shouted out the NYC Ballroom scene and the heartwarming kiki of aunties who replaced "Hello" with "Who did your nails?" A few quick takeaways from my read:

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Catlinh Phi picks up right after the foreword with the story of MANTRAP, a business born from the friendship between Charlie Vo and Olivett Robinson. Olivett started as Charlie's customer. Then the two built real camaraderie, stepped right over the racial gossip and skepticism, and launched a successful business together in South LA. As the zine puts it, "Because MANTRAP served almost exclusively Black clientele, once the salons' Vietnamese technicians mastered these techniques, business skyrocketed." And: "Black American aesthetics and artistic vision were just as crucial to the Vietnamese nail industry success as Vietnamese resilience." Read that twice.

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The zine interviews eight nail techs from wildly different backgrounds, graphic design, sewing, fine art, a bio major, accounting, media production. Most never dreamed nail art would be the career. Some started out of necessity after resettling as refugees. Some learned by helping out at their parents' salon. But every one of them eventually found their own way into the craft, using it to process feelings, observations, pop culture, and human connection. Some gave thoughtful, articulate answers. Some gave short, basic ones. And then Huynh Tien Nguyen, asked where she networked with coworkers, said: "throwing parties on holidays, karaoke, and chùa (pagoda)." Girl, same.

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What stuck with me most is how this new generation of nail artists prioritizes mental health and holistic care. Many have mastered the art of shrugging off the prejudice that nail techs are uneducated. One even asks for a virtual call with a client before booking, because if you can't talk for five minutes, she can't create a beautiful finish. Boundaries as a business model. We love to see it.

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"Nails" does what the best zines do: it takes something you walk past every day and hands you the story underneath. It's a document of survival, friendship, and craft, of aunties, refugees, and fine art majors who turned a hustle into a language. Sharp enough to cut, tender enough to keep. 

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