Try these skincare tips if you use makeup daily

There are some girls who like to do the makeup very much or their jobs are such, where they have to make almost daily makeup. Every day, due to applying chemical makeup products on the skin, the risk of skin damage is greatly increased.

Think about food: You may find it strange to hear, but your diet also affects your skin. If you always eat oily and heavy food, then your skin starts looking dull. So always include seasonal fruits, vegetables, etc. in your diet. Also, drink plenty of water. This causes the toxins of the body to come out and your skin starts glowing naturally.

Choosing the right product: If you want makeup to not have much adverse effect on your skin, then it is very important that you choose the product according to your skin. Always carry branded goods only. Never compromise with your skin by getting into a cheap affair. Also, before buying any product, focus on its ingredient.

Remove makeup: If you want makeup to not cause any damage to the skin, then it is very important that you must remove makeup before going to bed every night. Actually, the skin is naturally repaired at night and if the makeup is not removed, it will soon lead to aging of your skin. By the way, while removing makeup, you also have to keep in mind that you do it very comfortably. In particular, the area around the eyes is quite thin and sensitive and if you remove the makeup by pulling the skin, it increases the chances of getting fine lines.

Keep extra attention: To keep the skin always youthful, it is important to take extra care of it. Like, you must apply some homemade packs or hydrating sheets on your skin. This helps to keep the skin always youthful.

Anti-oxidant serum: Hydration is essential for skin rejuvenation. To give extra care to your skin, add an anti-oxidant serum to your beauty routine. In addition to hydrating the skin, the serum also protects against pollution, dirt and sun damage. It also prevents the onset of wrinkles, black spots and pigmentation apart from other signs of aging and makes the skin youthful and glowing.

Meet the no-plane pioneers

It has taken Roger Tyers four days to reach Moscow by train from Kiev. His destination is Beijing: a trip that will take 14 days, with a couple of overnight stops along the way. Tyers, an environmental sociologist at the University of Southampton, is on his way to China to research attitudes to the environment, the climate emergency and personal responsibility. “Given that, I thought it would be somewhat hypocritical of me to fly,” he says over Skype from his hostel room.

It has been months in the planning – he had to convince his bosses to give him a month off to travel to and from China. Has it been a pain? “It definitely has. It’s a matter of getting your train schedule in line with your visa requirements. I didn’t realise I needed a visa to travel through Mongolia, even though I’m not stopping there. There have been moments when I’ve been close to giving up and either cancelling the whole trip or just booking a flight.” But he is glad he has stuck with it, he says. “I have to prove it is possible.”

The no-fly movement is a small but growing community of people who are drastically reducing the number of flights they take, or giving up air travel altogether. Many campaigners say they feel flying is about to receive the same attention as shunning plastic or eating less meat because of its 2% contribution to global carbon emissions, predicted to grow to as much as 16% by 2050. In Sweden, where the movement has taken off, a new term has emerged: flygskam, meaning “flight shame”. Siân Berry, the co-leader of the Green party, has called on people to take no more than one flight a year and suggested a tax should be imposed on further journeys. Berry hasn’t flown since 2005.

The climate activist Greta Thunberg hasn’t flown since 2015; she did her European tour last month by train. In January, she attended the World Economic Forum at Davos in Switzerland, travelling 32 hours each way by rail, while a record number of private jets – about 1,500 – brought the rich and powerful attendees.

It is becoming harder to defend alleged hypocrisy, however well-meaning. The actor Emma Thompson was criticised for flying from Los Angeles to support the Extinction Rebellion protest in London, not only by the usual naysayers eager to point out double standards, but also by environmental campaigners. “She could just as easily have paid for a billboard poster in Piccadilly and got her message across there,” said Kevin Anderson, a climate scientist who hasn’t flown since 2004, on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme. The issue has been significant among environmental scientists for years; the Flying Less campaign, aimed at academia, has been running since 2015.

Paul Chatterton, a professor of urban futures at the University of Leeds, also hasn’t flown since 2004. “I think every academic has to justify why they are flying to that particular ‘must-go’ conference. If we have something really important to say, say it in a different way.” He travels to European conferences by train. “One of the privileges of being a middle-income professional – and this is a direct plea to other middle-income professionals – is that you can negotiate with your boss and you have a bit more money to get the train. I’m not talking about people who can’t afford to do that, because I know trains are more expensive.”

As for Chatterton’s no-fly family holidays, the best ones have been taking the ferry from Hull to Rotterdam and cycling around the Netherlands. “You travel light, you make it an adventure with your kids,” he says. “Who wants to sit in a departure lounge? You get the excitement of travelling through places, figuring out what the next journey is. I think we have to get back into the idea that travelling is special; it’s a privilege.”

Most flying is carried out by a small proportion of the population. Aled Jones, the director of the Global Sustainability Institute at Anglia Ruskin University, says we have become used to the low-cost weekend flight abroad in a short space of time. “When I was growing up, and certainly for the generation before, flying on holiday was not something you expected to do,” he says. “By radically cutting down, we’re not going back to the dark ages; we’re going back to when people holidayed in the UK. It will be less of a sacrifice for a lot of people than we expect.” He admits that addressing “love miles” – flying to see family who live abroad – is “a very different challenge”.

Maja Rosén, who lives in Sweden and gave up flying in 2008, had always kept quiet when friends talked about flying abroad on holidays – until last year. “I thought: ‘How is it possible I’m more scared of destroying the mood than climate collapse?’ I decided that my new year resolution last year would be to start asking some inconvenient questions. I realised that most people weren’t aware of the impact from flying and how huge it is.”

She and a friend started a campaign, Flight-free 2019 (now Flight-free 2020), to encourage people to pledge not to fly. By the end of 2018, 15,000 Swedes had signed; by the end of this year, she thinks it will be 100,000. It has changed the conversation around flying in the country: passenger numbers dropped at Swedish airports in 2018, while a record number of people in the country took the train.

“People don’t realise that what they do as an individual is so important because it affects those around them,” says Rosén. “If you keep flying, all your friends will as well. You contribute to the norm. But if you decide to give up flying or take a flight-free year, that makes others reflect. Change can happen fast as soon as enough people start acting. Before, people saw flying as an experience or something you do, it wasn’t in the category of consumption, but I think now people are starting to realise that by taking a flight they are a heavy consumer of fossil fuel.”

There is now a British arm of the campaign, run by the writer Anna Hughes, who last took a flight eight years ago. More than 1,000 people have pledged to have a flight-free year. Hughes likens it to the Veganuary campaign, by which people give up animal products for January to raise awareness of veganism and change behaviour. She has travelled to Ireland, Denmark and other European countries – and seen a lot of the UK. “There is nowhere I can think of that I want to go that I can’t get to by bike, train or boat. If I was going to go further, I would just take a long time to do it.”

The author Nicola Davies is taking long-haul flights for a couple of upcoming commitments, but after that she will radically rethink her flight consumption, she says. There will almost certainly be no more European flights; she has already travelled to the Balearic Islands in Spain by car. “We did the journey down to Barcelona in two days, then the ferry crossing is eight hours,” she says, adding that it requires a bit more planning than travelling by plane. “It’s much more exciting, much closer to the real skin of the planet than the feeling you get from going to an airport, popping into a metal tube and then popping out at some other point on the planet with no real grasp of the distance, habitat, people and cultures you’ve passed over on the way.

Nigel Slater's vegetable stock and soup recipes

I have been in need of a good vegetable stock for some time. Not one of the delicate, vegetal liquids the colour of hay but something altogether deeper, richer and more ballsy. In other words, more like a brown meat stock. Such a broth would be immensely useful in my kitchen as a base for the heartier non-meat recipes that form the backbone of my daily eating, but also as something restoring to drink as you might a cup of miso. My gran would have had Bovril. The colour must be dark and glossy, the flavour deeply, mysteriously herbal with a hint of mushroom and there should be a roasted backnote, the sort you find in a long-simmered meat stock.

And so the kitchen slowly filled with the smell of onions, celery and carrots, which we roasted with miso then removed from the oven and simmered for a good hour with thyme, bay and shitake. We slipped in a sheet of kombu for an extra layer of depth.

The broth was strained and separated from its spent aromatics, its deep, almost mahogany liquor dripping slowly into a glass bowl. I used the witches’ brew immediately with spring vegetables, letting the stock add substance to a soup of young broad beans and carrots that we ate with thick slices of chewy sourdough toast. We dunked the toast deep into the stock, letting it slowly swell with the bosky, fungal, roasted flavours from the bowl.

A roasted vegetable stock

Makes about 2 litres

onions 2, medium
carrots 250g
celery 2 stalks
garlic 1 small whole head
light miso paste 3 tbsp
water 80ml, plus 3 litres
dried shitake mushrooms 50g
rosemary 5 sprigs
thyme 10 sprigs
bay leaves 3
black peppercorns 12
dried kombu 10g

Set the oven at 180C/gas mark 4. Peel and roughly chop the onions, then place in a roasting tin together with the skins. Similarly chop the carrots and celery stalks then mix with the onions and the head of garlic, separated into cloves.

Mix together the miso paste and 80ml of water then stir into the vegetables, coating them lightly. Bake for about an hour, tossing the vegetables once or twice during cooking, until everything is brown, fragrant and toasty.

Transfer the roasted vegetables and aromatics to a deep saucepan, add the shitake, rosemary, thyme, bay, peppercorns and the sheets of kombu, then pour a little water from the 3 litres into the roasting tin, scrape at the sticky, caramelised bits stuck to the tin, then pour into the saucepan. Add the remaining water. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and leave to simmer, partially covered with a lid, for 50 minutes to an hour.

When you have a deep brown, richly coloured broth, tip through a sieve into a heatproof bowl or large jug and leave to cool. Refrigerate and use as necessary.
Spring vegetable soup

It seems only right, having a stock of such deep, herbal joy, to let it steal the limelight. I use it here as the base for a spring soup made with young broad beans and carrots barely thicker than an index finger.

Keeping the soup uncluttered by cream or other unnecessary bits and bobs, we are free to add other vegetables as the mood takes us: small heart- shaped leaves of young spinach, lightly cooked courgettes (add them with the tomatoes) or perhaps some spears of steamed asparagus.

Serves 4

broad beans 200g (podded weight)
spring carrots 180g
garlic 3 cloves
olive oil 3 tbsp
cherry tomatoes 200g
vegetable stock a litre
parsley leaves a handful

Bring a saucepan of water to the boil, salt it lightly, then drop in the broad beans and let them cook, at a rolling boil, for 6 or 7 minutes. Have ready a bowl of water with ice cubes in it. As the beans become ready, drain and drop them into the iced water. Using your thumb and forefinger, pop the bright green beans from their pale, paper skins, leaving only the very smallest unskinned.

Trim and lightly scrub the carrots, then slice each in half lengthways. Peel and thinly slice the garlic. Warm the olive oil in a deep sided casserole over a moderate heat, add the carrots and garlic and let them cook for 2 or 3 minutes, occasionally moving them round the pan.

Cut each tomato in quarters then add them to the pan, stirring them as they soften and lose their shape. Pour in the vegetable stock and bring to the boil, then lower the heat, letting the vegetables cook for a further 3 or 4 minutes.

Drain the broad beans and add to the soup, letting them cook for a further 3 or 4 minutes. Check the seasoning then add the parsley leaves and ladle the soup into bowls.