"My fingers may not be long compared to my palms, but when you add the long nails they look very long. It is all in the angle, the stretch, and the nail length that seems to cause such debates over the size of my hands." - Raven
I need to say something about the “debate” Raven mentioned. The one about finger length. Because the truth is, she doesn’t just have beautiful hands. She has correct hands and that’s why the internet broke itself trying to measure them.
Most women with very large hands suffer from what I call the “spider ratio.” You’ve seen it: fingers that stretch too far beyond the palm, thin and attenuated like antennae. They telegraph a kind of genetic accident, as if the body couldn’t decide between elegance and acreage.
Raven’s hands don’t scream. They resonate.
Here’s what Raven’s modest quote doesn’t say: her fingers are exactly as long as they need to be. When she spreads her palm flat, the digits terminate at the precise point where power becomes grace. This is the golden ratio of anatomy.
The nails aren’t a cheat code; they’re a reveal. When she extends them, those lethal, they don’t artificially lengthen the finger so much as they complete it. The angle, the stretch she mentions? That’s not photography trickery. That’s a woman who understands that her hands are a narrative device. Tilt the delicate wrist, fan the fingers, and the eye follows the nail to the fingertip.
Raven knows this. You can see it in the way she poses. She never flattens her hand completely; there’s always a slight cup, a suggestion of enclosure. Her fingers curved just enough to remind you that they could close around your wrist. The length was never the point. The potential was.
So when Raven says her fingers “may not be long compared to my palms,” she’s being diplomatic. She’s sparing the spider-handed girls who are begging for validation. Her hands are perfect because they defy the tyranny of finger length. They prove that power lives in the palm, that beauty is a matter of proportion, not exaggeration.
