I was already wearing one of the two colors she had picked for me, a dead match for the deep red I had on my fingernails. But this wasn’t the most unexpected thing about Rose Theodora, the color astrologer at Enamel Diction.
She has a degree in art history from UCLA. She is sort of (not really) related to Robert Oppenheimer, one of the inventors of the nuclear bomb—her grandmother was married to Oppenheimer’s son, Pete, before her grandfather—and it turns out that Oppenheimer had an interest in astrology, too. She is drop-dead gorgeous: tall, thin, delicate, with high cheekbones and slate-blue eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that color, and she seems to stare directly at you in a way that, if you’re at all suggestive, could suggest that she’s all-seeing. (Note to editor: Do not send your most suggestive writer to the astrology nail salon, especially if there’s a chance the astrologer is the real deal.)
Located in Mid-City L.A. where diversity is a natural occurrence that applies to both clientele and staff, Enamel Diction specializes in color by astrological sign and personal inclination, or as they say on their website, “a new and disruptive approach to the mani pedi industry.”
Enamel Diction started as a book by Aussie designers and color experts Tamara Sheeran and Sean Morrison, a glossy guide to expressing your personality through your nail polish. It was turned into an L.A. shop by marketing maven and self-described enamelista Mariana Stanciu. I’m not sure when astrology came into play, but Rose Theodora heard about it shortly after it opened, booked an appointment online, and shortly thereafter, they formed a strategic partnership. As Rose Theodora explains, “How often do you find an astrologer with a certificate in color?” Rose Theodora still maintains a private astrology practice that is not connected to the salon.
She has also been influenced by New York artist and Hunter College professor Robert Swain, who states on his website, “Color is a form of energy derived from the electromagnetic spectrum that stimulates our perceptual processes and is instrumental in conveying emotions.” Rose Theodora puts it slightly differently: “I believe that colors have auras,” she says. “Orange, for example, is a very happy color.” I was relieved to hear this. We recently painted our gate orange (a version of Frank Lloyd Wright red) and we’re having an interesting conversation with the neighbors about it. I needed validation.
The salon is ultra hip, with bentwood tables, skylights overhead, and one wall painted with a mural-like geometric design gone wild (think Pucci), and they serve up fun, incredibly inventive manis and pedis. Don’t be surprised if they suggest gold half moons at the bottom of a red nail and try to convince you that gold signifies warmth, prosperity, and illumination, not that you needed convincing, because the gold half moon is kind of antic. It’s so sparkly, it almost looks as if it’s inset with diamonds, and who would have thought to paint your half moon a different color to begin with?
If you know your date, time, and city of birth, you can get a reading, too. As a technician paints your nails, Rose Theodora leans in and talks softly, hitting you with that straightforward gaze. She tells you what it means to have this sign in that house and how it might affect certain aspects of your personality. She might give you some wardrobe advice, too. She told me to wear a lot of gray (I already do) and to add a lot of white to my wardrobe (okay). But be forewarned: She is more in-the-moment life coach, if you will, and doesn’t like to do “predictive astrology.” There’s also optional imagery to add, if you like—polka dots, bow ties, a Deco design for your pinky. (Rose Theodora had a few eyes painted on select fingernails.) Another L.A. version of putting yourself forward, and what’s wrong with that?