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."