Actress Marietta Tsigal - on heels, scarves and posture of his mother Lyubov Polishchuk, on Koktebel cottage legendary grandmother Marietta Shahinian and life in the family of the artist.
Nose - perhaps the only thing in my appearance, withwhat I do not have an internal war. It seems to me that when a person has a big nose, that's good. Of course, as a child, and even now hear and shnobel and »eggplant», but it does not hurt me. I guess I'm your »shnobel» love, because that's the only thing that is absolutely unequivocally and reinforced concrete gives me the right to be a full member of my wonderful family. That I just do not take away.
P? SICK MAIKA
I did not want to stand out as a teenager. No one was friendly with me, and I did my best to be not Polishchuk's daughter, but one of them all. In her foolish ways I tried to join. Hanging out in the courtyards, drinking beer, swearing obscenities, spitting on a dispute for eight meters, etc. And, of course, I tried to dress fashionably. Fashionable - as it seemed to me then. Now I look at the photographs of those times - I laugh. Then, in the mid-1990s, it was fashionable to wear short vests opening the navel, my mother would never buy it. And I stole money from my parents from a secret place and quietly bought a jersey, checkered trousers and winter shoes on a high platform - terrible hoofs. If normal people at school change into a shift, then I went out of the house in what my parents bought me, and at the entrance changed. After some time, my mother saw the pictures and asked: »What kind of shirt is this?» I did something, and she suddenly said: »Cool!» And then something changed inside. I began to perceive the world differently, people around. I began to listen less whispers, more to trust myself and those whom I really respect. I love long dresses, skirts on the floor, sew curves, oblique, free sundresses. I do not cut anything, I just take the tissue and cut my armpits. ? I hate hate and everything I can not stand on the waist, I wear everything on my hips. I like socks colorful - right blue, green on the left. And, frankly, I do not care who responds. Of course, this only applies to everyday wear. Stage costume is another matter.
ALWAYS divine
Mother was always bright, even in gray and black. She could open the closet, there to see some sort of scarf, tie it quickly, making it a dress, and go to the channel »Culture» in the program »Life Line». She was an amazing taste and diverse style. But despite all these incredible delights and beauty of dresses, I remember home handkerchief, which my mother tied on the head when she hurt her. I have it still kept. The usual calico, gray-blue-green color, although it is now no, because he was forty years old. This is the first child and a cozy remembrance - my mother in the turban. She was meteodependent - with the change of weather she had a headache, and that I was told - and that's when it is wound that thing on his head. But it is at home. In family. In general, she always knew how to love and be elegant and spectacular. Wore Heels, has always been with a straight back, looked up their growth, unlike me walk hunched pod, nobody believes that my height - 180 cm.
As a teenager, I started to carry my mother's things: skirts, jeans, handbags, only slinky dresses did not take. I always fell for it, because I am the soiled clothes, then burns her cigarettes. I then enjoyed a multi-colored, bright. Mom found a shop that sold huge clown shoes with round toes, they were at it all the rainbow colors. That's what I liked, and I wore them - foot size, we had almost the same, 41 minutes.
