Even before Hoa Thi Le left Vietnam, she heard about California's booming nail business from her brothers and sisters. All six became manicurists after arriving in America.
So when Le arrived in Southern California in December, she went straight to beauty school.
"My family told me, 'Do nails. It's easy,'" said Le, 49, as she practiced brushing hot-pink polish on a woman's toenails at Advance Beauty College in Garden Grove, Calif. "So I just followed them."
These days, it's hard to meet a manicurist who isn't Vietnamese. In California, Vietnamese-Americans make up about 80 percent of nail technicians, according to the industry's trade publication. Nationwide, it's 43 percent.
"The Vietnamese have taken over the nail industry," said Tam Nguyen, who operates the beauty school that his parents started. "They began serving a niche that wasn't served by Americans. And boom!"
They've also transformed a business that once was an indulgence for the pampered and wealthy, turning it into an affordable American routine.
In the 1970s, manicures cost up to $60. But waves of Vietnamese manicurists, mostly refugees who happily accepted low wages, cut prices. Now manicures and pedicures go for as little as $15.
The nail industry has become an easy path to success for Vietnamese-Americans, who discovered they needed little training and could get by with limited English. Even before they arrive, Vietnamese newcomers have jobs lined up at relatives' salons. Some have plans to open their own.
Salons across the Midwest and East Coast advertise for workers in Southern California's Vietnamese-language newspapers. Cosmetology licensing tests in California and Texas are given in Vietnamese. And the industry's trade magazine has a glossy Vietnamese-language version, VietSalon.
And whether a slur or proof of acceptance, Vietnamese-Americans have earned a classic American distinction: becoming a stereotype. In stand-up comedy or prime-time TV, the spoof of a manicurist trying to tack on extra services in broken English is nearly universal.
Unlike the boutiques selling ao dai tunics or the pho restaurants that line Vietnamese enclaves, nail salons didn't spring from centuries-old customs. There is no word in Vietnamese for "manicurist." They call it tho nail - nail worker.
The story of how the Vietnamese fell into the nail industry is one of pure chance - of how 20 women who fled their war-torn country happened to meet a Hollywood star with beautiful nails.
The women were former teachers, business owners and government officials who came to America in 1975 after the fall of Saigon and landed in Hope Village, a tent city for Vietnamese refugees near Sacramento.
Actress Tippi Hedren, drawn to the plight of the refugees, visited every few days. The Vietnamese knew little of Hollywood, so she showed them Alfred Hitchcock's movie The Birds and pointed out her face on the screen.
Hedren was captivated by the refugees' stories of their homeland. They were fascinated by her nails: long, oval, the color of coral.
"I noticed that these women were very good with their hands," said Hedren, now 78. "I thought, why couldn't they learn how to do nails?"
So Hedren flew in her manicurist once a week to teach the women how to trim cuticles, remove calluses and perform nail wraps. She persuaded a nearby beauty school to teach the women and helped them find jobs.
Thuan Le, a high school teacher in Vietnam, passed her nail licensing exam four months after arriving in Hope Village.
"Any profession that was taught to us, we would learn it," Le said. "We had no idea if it was going to be successful or not."
No comments:
Post a Comment