It's reverse psychology though. I don't remember a day going out without nailpolish when I was in Iran. Even though they would make you go buy polish remover, come back and then go to your class.
You would put your hands in your pockets or wear gloves in winter, they would tell by your face that you have nailpolish!
-- "You! You have nailpolish? ... You don't pray then?"
And we all used to say, "oh, I have a religious excuse this week!" and hope she wasn't there last week! And that was just a part of our daily life.
We called them: "Fatemeh Komando -- Fatemeh, the Commander"
Once sitting in the Cafe Teria, we were discussing what they would tell their children as their day job is? We are Fati, the Commander? We catch those with nailpolish?
Now thinking again, trying to remember their faces, they were mostly young, like us. Religious and non-educated and came from poor families who most importantly needed the wage they were earning to pay for their daily basic supplies. Some thought they're on God's mission too. But again they could not fit or find any other job. Some looked at us with envy, some young giggling students holding our books. Some thought we have just been derailed from the path of God. Otherwise we wouldn't have nailpolish. On the other hand, we did not care about them. As if they were not us. We did not like their reasoning and attitude. We smiled at them, tried to be nice and somehow surrender. Challenging them would only make the situation worse. But they knew once we go to the other side of the curtain, we just tease them.
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