Karen Krolicki and Dawn Jackson are best friends in a way that most people don’t experience after, say, the seventh grade. After working together eight hours a day as nail technicians at Lakeview’s B. Rose Salon and Spa, they go home and call each other, staying on the phone into the night. “Our boyfriends don’t understand,” said Krolicki on a recent Saturday morning at the salon. “Matt will be like, ‘You just spent the whole day with her. What else do you guys have to talk about?’ And I’m like, ‘I thought of something else I had to say, OK? God!’”
Jackson, a pale blond Kirsten Dunst look-alike, works alone at the salon on Mondays. Most weeks it’s their only day apart.
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They sat in adjacent chairs, painting women’s toenails cherry red and bright copper in defiance of the gray sky outside, and carried on a running dialogue. Besides each other (“Well, we mostly talk about Karen,” said Jackson) the main topic of conversation was their upcoming vacation in South Beach, the balmy, showy section of Miami Beach renowned for its diet, art deco architecture, and all-night party atmosphere. They never considered going with anyone else. Their boyfriends? Not even contenders. “That wouldn’t be fun,” said Jackson. “What kind of vacation is that?” She rolled her eyes.
Krolicki, who’s 22 and lives near O’Hare with her parents, has drawn up a detailed itinerary of what they’ll do from the moment their flight–her first ever–arrives in Florida. First order of business: find a palm tree for Krolicki, who’s never seen one, to hug. Second: get to their ocean-side hotel and look at the water. Krolicki’s never seen the ocean. “But I think I’m only going to go in knee-deep,” she said, “because I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m scared of–the water, slimy things touching me, I don’t know. So we have a pool at our hotel just in case I don’t like the ocean.”
Krolicki’s two-page packing list, written in a careful, loopy hand, includes six pairs of shoes (“new tan stilettos, pink flip-flops, denim flip-flops, white pumps, white flip-flops, black stilettos”) and 21 beauty products. The accessories section lists four different devices for holding her hair back or up and specifies two different sizes of claw clip. She’s also taking two strapless bras, several bras with straps, three purses, and three different lipsticks (“pink light glitter, gloss, and a beigey light gloss”). She knows exactly when she’ll be using each clip, bra, handbag, and watch (one pink, one white) because she’s made a chart scheduling each day’s outfits. Saturday evening, for example, Krolicki will wear her white capris (purchased for the trip), tan shirt, tan shoes, white thong, silver dangly earrings, silver claw bracelet, and white watch. Her hair will be up in a claw clip (small) and she’ll carry a white purse. Sunday night she’ll carry Jackson’s black Kate Spade purse and switch to the pink watch. At one stage in the planning she meant to wear her hair flipped that evening, but later crossed that out in favor of “hair straight.” She’ll be wearing a pink tube top, pink belt, pink necklace, pink earrings, black stilettos, and what she calls her “nail-glue jeans.”
Before she started working with Krolicki, Jackson’s life was different, she says, and less happy. As a single mother and a waitress, she spent most of her downtime in jogging pants. “I didn’t have any other clothes for after work,” she said. “Karen looked me up and down and she’s like, ‘Yeah, that’s not working.’ She puts my outfits together for me now because I’m clueless. Karen is the person who keeps me feeling like even though I’m a single mom and life is really hard for me, I can still be in my 20s and have fun.” Jackson never used to go shopping or to clubs. “Well, I’d go every once in a while. Rarely. Now it’s just like it’s a part of me. I get excited now.”
