Maria Markova analyzes growing up not as a path to wisdom, but as a series of accidents at the turns of life. After about thirty, everything turns into a zoo: hair starts to take on a life of its own, and medical know-how becomes a topic for eternal arguments in the kitchen.
This concert mixes doctor blunders, phobias, smart gadgets and absolutely non-functional gifts. A world where even the kettle is smarter than you, and the swimming pool is the territory of passive aggression and social quests.
The main idea is simple: the awkwardness of growing up is not cured, it only changes the wrapper. Irony is the only guarantee of survival, especially if you have already been deprived of all your friends in messengers and added to the blacklist when trying to meet in an elevator.
