Here is a photo of my grandmother, Emilie (my mother's mother; this is not the grandmother who made the Christmas ornaments). Nana Emilie had absolutely beautiful, feminine, well-kept hands. She did not do any manual work, & had a weekly manicure.
Here is a close-up:
She was the epitome of what gracious motherhood can be. Her hands were strong and capable; they were not "manicured," and they were not "man hands," either. I wish I had a photo of her hands. She cooked, cleaned, sewed, entertained, played the piano, worked, gardened, decorated, took care of her children, husband and home with those loving, skillful hands.
Here is a photo of Gregg's (gorgeous man-hand) and mine, when we got married (I was working in finance at the time):
Those are my real nails, of which I took meticulous care, back then. I manicured them myself each week, and I used to carry a bottle of whatever polish I was wearing with me, so that in the event of a dreaded chip (oh my!), I could repair it immediately. I must have thought I would be judged on the basis of my perfect manicure.
I should add that Gregg has the most beautiful man-hands that I have ever seen. They are strong, gentle, well-formed and skillful. He worked as a commercial fisherman in Alaska and as a landscaper when he was younger, and I think those two jobs are part of why his hands are so handsome (pun intended).
These hands have cooked, changed diapers, bathed my children, gardened, cleaned house, unplugged toilets, paddled a kayak, fished, made crafts, painted, beachcombed, dug clams, picked berries, baked pies, comforted, administered medicines, given shots, filled syringes, sterilized IV lines, held pink buckets for vomit, cleaned out pink buckets, cleared NG tubes, prayed, prepared my daughter's body for the funeral home, sewed and more. I am thankful for these hands, and what they are able to do. I wouldn't want them to have a flawless manicure, these days. They need to be ready for action.