A beauty convention . My friend got free tickets from her hairdresser. To get there from the metro you need to walk across a frozen lake; such a contrast of the savage and the altar of the artificial. Inside were boutiques with a strange mixture of products, not necessarily suited to a beauty convention; honey beer, Kvac, Cider, beeswax . Not far from these traditional market products was an ultra-modern tan-spray machine, being used (demonstrated) by young generic bikini-clad girls and photographers in suits . This was placed incongruously next to an esoteric stall of essential oils and health books.
On the main stage, spread out like painters canvasses but more orderly, was a beauty competition on the theme of fantasy . Behind each stall was a fabulously decorated woman; a dress with a pom-pom skirt in play-school colours; hair curled into a cylinder and fixed with some very powerful hairspray or perhaps glue, like a wooden honey-comb scraper or moulded from the interior of long thin ribbed bucket(she had to hold it up with her arm).; an onion.
By the main stage was a body-painting competition inspired by Dali. Nude women with fabulously painted bodies and surreal hairstyles curling in the air. It seems this kind of decoration could only work with these Russian models, given their strawberry facial structures and long Rapunzel hair.
Some of the models were clearly amateur and the dowdy presenter of a hair-dressing master class berated them models, ‘They’re young. They don’t know how to walk. We choose this music for them and they walk like that.’ She was very deputy-head style .
It was fascinating to see the mixture of extravagant and tacky (cheap stilettos, leopard skin) people attending the convention.
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