Journalist Victoria Bazoyeva about favorite cosmetics and sports
FOR THE FACE "HEAD" we study the contents of beauty cases, dressing tables and cosmetic bags of interesting characters to us - and we show all this to you.
About beauty and attitude
All my life I had far more interesting activities than my own appearance. When my classmates exchanged their first colored mascara for hair, I avidly read books and went to the "School of the Young Journalist." When they tried on make-up before school graduation and slept in hair curlers, I didn’t make up at all, but I ran to get a certificate in sneakers, jeans and a dress over - between interviews and materials in the YES girl magazine. When I studied at the university, it was ridiculous: one day my classmate with a very worried look asked me: “Vika, what happened ?! Are you all right? You look so good!”
In a word, I have always been one of these - "everything is beautiful, and you are funny." Sometimes it frightened me terribly, and I tried to make up the makeup, but it turned out all wrong: I forgot that I had eyeliner and mascara - and all at once smeared, trying to scratch my eyes. I never learned to paint my lips, and, in general, all I really know how well is to draw arrows, and even this valuable skill came to me in twenty-five years.
It must be very old-fashioned, but my mother always told me that it was important to be cheerful, inquisitive, interested and love what you were doing - and then you would shine from the inside. But really, I realized that beauty is really inside, only by the age of twenty-four. I just didn’t care about those who tactlessly asked if I wanted to try a new nail polish and why I wasn’t interested in palettes with mascara, tucked under my breath “wonderful tonal creams” that I’ll come in handy and couldn’t take sense, that cheerful in digging on the beds and winter walks on the "pensioner" skiing.
Most of all I was changed by a hike in Scotland, where I desperately rushed alone, meaning nothing in the route, in equipment or in walking through the swamps. On the third day alone with myself, wet shoes, a heavy backpack, frosts at dawn and heather plains, I realized that I can do everything that is scary happy just to walk on these hills and mountains and that in Moscow there is a lot of everything that is alluvial, unnecessary, unnecessary, invented. And that, in essence, you only need body vigor, dry socks, a warm place to sleep, a toothbrush, hygienic lipstick, sun glasses, and maybe a huge plate of pasta with cheese and tomato paste.
I am 28, but I am pleased to think that I do not look at my age. It seems to me that the main thing is to think that you are thirteen all the time, and not to take yourself too seriously. Self-irony is perhaps the most important part of my "beauty ritual", and to be funny and not go after the word in my pocket, as for me, it doesn’t really mean to be beautiful. I like my own freckles, I do not hesitate to skinned knees and a long nose, I do not care that wrinkles appear from laughter, and the gray hair that appears is not embarrassing at all. In my opinion, life is much more interesting than some kind of serum and sitting at the reception at the beautician, and if you are healthy, cheerful and easy-going, then automatically and very happy. During that very campaign in Scotland, I always got on the replay the song of Damon Albarna with the refrain "Radiance is in you" - and so, then I understood forever that the radiance is indeed! - is in you, even if you have not washed for five days.
About sport and health
I can not live without fresh air. As a child I was strenuously hardened by my parents, so I still habitually drench my feet with icy water every night, sleep with the window open even in the most severe frosts and literally wither when I have to sit in a stuffy office or at home for several days in a row. Every day I try to go out for an hour's walk: and get distracted from work so as not to blink my eyes, and you collect the notorious ten thousand steps a day, and breathe the air. I also listen to audiobooks on walks - a rare opportunity to "read" these days.
Every weekend - some long and interesting hike: in summer on foot, and in winter - on skis. As a child, I went with my dad and his club of tourists every weekend for 25 kilometers and I miss this very much, now there are almost no such clubs left, as, however, the hiking routes in the Moscow region almost disappeared, having fallen victim to country houses.
Ten years ago, I spent three months in Colorado. Colorado is the healthiest state in America, and it’s easy and pleasant to be healthy and sporty: long walking paths, bike lanes, skiing and free weekend trips to the mountains. There, at work, you were given a discount on medical insurance if you walked ten thousand steps a day with a pedometer and ate five kinds of vegetables or fruits a day — and everyone went and ate. To keep up, I also acquired a pedometer and began to count the steps, and I got used to it very much. Now I have a Mi Band, a bracelet that besides the steps also counts how much I sleep. True, I began to slouch more, but I promised myself to squat every day and do the bar for a couple of minutes - maybe this will help a little.
Without sport, it’s generally bad: I’ve been swimming for three years and always swam in the “Seagull” - it’s so beautiful when you swim in golden clouds of steam at night and no one on the tracks, but now it’s so outrageous and unreasonably expensive that temporarily suspended these campaigns - the more and the summer began. Therefore, the pool is replaced by all the same long walks, races, cycling races and training with the "Sports Section". The latter played a significant role in accepting oneself: these are new physical education lessons, but not torture, school, when you, foolish, are standing and everyone laugh at you evil, and when you are still no less stupid twenty years later, You laugh at yourself and each other with your bosom friends.
About care
I am a terrible lazy person, and therefore pensioner regularity and truths are important for me in daily care: enough sleep, plenty of walking, eating vegetables and fruits, washing in the mornings and evenings, brushing my teeth after eating, not cleaning my ears with cotton buds, not smoking, not to get drunk until unconscious, regularly combed, smeared with sunscreen, examine moles, play sports and regularly check your health - at the dentist, gynecologist and therapist - and get vaccinated in time. It’s easier to identify and solve the problem at an early stage (or make sure that everything is in order) than to try to catch up with a decade of failure. But there will be health — there will be beauty; Victorian consumptive chic is still a bit outdated.
Until the age of 26, my skin was not very good, especially in the décolleté and on the back. So I didn’t wear open T-shirts and dresses, I was embarrassed, angry, picking these poor acne from anger - and so on to infinity. And then I learned about tar soap, and it seems that this is the only remedy in the world from which I really felt the effect. Since then, they have been religiously washed once a day, and their skin has become significantly better. Even if a lonely scoundrel popped up on his face - you can smear him with soap several times during the day, and he will shrink, dry out and almost disappear. It smells, of course, like greasy boots, but some people like to think that it is like smoked tea or a stick of sausage. In general, I like penny drugs: for example, Boro Plus cream, which even physicians advise in advance, - he used to have acne from acne, and now it just acts as an antiseptic and moisturizer.
Most of the time, however, I look like a tattered sparrow: an eternal bundle and circles under the eyes - sometimes as a child of deadline and in the winter (apparently because of dry air) they become completely unbearable. I am fighting a rather unsuccessful fight with them, and for the time being there are two favorites: shea butter (it smells so-so, but if you smear it at night and buy it as a lip balm with perfume, you can suffer) and Neal's Yard Remedy. The latter is now even scared to say how much it costs, but I bought it in London in the best years, and I tremble over it: no matter how much I spend it.
Even without a YSL concealer, nowhere is the same cult thing as a highlighter: to hide flaws or reddenings, it needs very little, literally a point, there is no this terrible feeling of "plaster", and it dries - so you can wake up without acne and unnecessary worries .
About makeup and hair
I rarely and little dye - a shocking recognition for the heroine "It is available", yes? If there is a question “sleep in the morning for an extra ten minutes” / “do an important job” and “make up” - I always choose sleep and business. I was not particularly used to being beautiful, and therefore I do not feel in myself in all this. Perhaps the only makeup tool that I use often and with pleasure is eyeliner. Once, however, I drew fat arrows from boredom at home like Amy Winehouse, something distracted me, I urgently left for a meeting and only in the evening I found out that I drew one arrow, and I forgot the second one, and went like that all day!
Every six months, I try to cut off split ends of hair, but I do it myself: I’m doing it faster, easier and better than in any salon. Although my hairdressing initiatives at first ended in complete failure. I learned the true meaning of the expression of walk of shame, when I decided to have my hair cut before Valentine's Day in ninth grade. Fast forward - and here I am in the chair at my hairdresser Volodya roar and scream: "Bray bald!" The next morning was completely unhappy. Sometimes I cut off quite a lot - and from some kind of Victorian feeling I stuff these braids into zip-lock packages, so that later it can be shown to my grandchildren.
About aromas
As a child I had some inconspicuous Elizabeth Arden, then Tommy Hilfiger (who didn't have it!), And then I bought the limited edition Estée Lauder Emerald Dream - and disappeared. We didn’t have a cult of scents at home, but sometimes her English friends gave her mom something, and for some reason completely - Estée Lauder. Therefore, the bottle, similar to the emerald grenade, I really loved for "Englishness." Everyone always asked what it was, and hugged longer than expected to sniff. The bottle quickly ended, and I bought another one. And then another. And then there was a rumor that it would no longer be released (which is understandable), and I rushed around the city for a whole week in a panic, buying up all the leftovers in all stores. I bought 15 (in words: fifteen) bottles, stuffed them in a box with shorts, and I still use it (and it’s already ten years).
Exactly on the eve of this shooting, I broke the last bottle, but my lovely young man somehow found it, apparently, the last bottle in this world and solemnly slipped it on the shelf in the bathroom - very much now I'm afraid to drop it. Along the way, I bought a lot of different flavors, but none of them got accustomed - but while I got rid of them in my Facebook group Undress to sell all sorts of unnecessary dresses and shoes, I learned that the world of flavors is insane: they even tear ten milliliters of hands off bottom of Acqua di Parma.
