Hey, I’m Lila—your slightly-obsessive nail art sidekick, hair experiment buddy, and full-time believer that glitter belongs everywhere.
New York City sidewalks have basically become my runway for testing if leopard-print nails clash with subway seats. (Spoiler: They do. Zero regrets.)
Let’s Shine Now started because my friends kept stealing my polish collection…and then demanded tutorials for “that lava lamp nail thingy” I did while binge-watching baking shows.
Fun fact: My first “nail art kit” was a stolen eyeliner and Wite-Out in middle school. Mom still brings it up at Thanksgiving.
These days, you’ll find me arguing with gel stickers at 2 a.m., stalking Brooklyn bodegas for rhinestone deals, or giving unsolicited braid advice to strangers at coffee shops. (Your ends need oil, girl. Let’s talk.)
I’m that person who’ll cancel plans to fix a chipped manicure but also wear socks with sandals if they’re cute. Priorities, right?
This blog’s basically my messy notebook—think smudged swatches, half-baked hair hacks, and way too many photos of my cat “helping” with flatlays.
Remember that trend where people glued googly eyes to their nails? Yeah, I tried it. Lost three at a Trader Joe’s. Worth it for the meme.
I don’t do “rules.” Pink hair with corporate jobs? Ballet flats at clubs? If it makes your heart do a cartwheel, we’re stanning.
Confession: I’ve cried over split ends, botched ombré DIYs, and the time I accidentally dyed my brows mint green. (We don’t…we don’t talk about mint green.)
My mission? Making beauty feel like finger-painting class, not a chemistry exam. No PhD required—just curiosity and maybe a toothpick for cleanup.
Real talk: Half my “hairstyle tutorials” are just upgraded bedhead. Found a curl cream that works while you sleep? You bet I’m sharing it.
If you’ve ever bought polish just to name it something dramatic like “Midnight Revenge” while eating cereal in pajamas…hi, soulmate.
Let’s be the weirdos who take hand selfies in elevator mirrors and argue about whether gold hoops go with holographic nails. (They do. Fight me.)
P.S. If you spot a woman stress-buying neon press-ons at Duane Reade at 11 p.m.? That’s me. Say hi and I’ll probably give you stickers.