“It’s not just about looks”– For Ukrainian women beauty care is a form of therapy

The salon’s founder, Halyna Shershyn, is often called Halina by Finns—echoing the Finnish word hälinä (“bustle”). The name suits her perfectly, as her presence always brings energy and liveliness to the salon.
Svitlana Yeharmina
Nadiia Fedorova
Published 04.06.2025 at 12:00
Updated 04.06.2025 at 3:56
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On a grey stretch of Mannerheimintie, Helsinki’s main artery, tucked between signs for Thai massage parlors and understated Finnish hair salons, there’s a modest door. Blink, and you’ll miss it. But step inside, and you’ll find yourself in another world.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets you. A large Ukrainian flag hangs proudly on the wall.
“Dobroho dnia (hello – Satakieli),” Alla Oshmarina welcomes us. Her long black hair is styled with the precision of someone who does it every single day.
The soft “h” sound, distinctively Ukrainian, carries the warmth of familiarity for Ukrainians — a quiet signal: “You’re among your own.” Alla is a stylist: hair, brows, makeup, lashes.
It’s noon outside, but the Hair Estetic BeautUA salon is only now coming to life.
The women are already in place: alongside Alla are Kateryna Kaidash, a tattoo artist; Svitlana Murza, a manicurist; and two Tetianas: massage therapist Tetiana Brutska and Tetiana Kozlovska, a lash technician. All of them are Ukrainian. All arrived in Finland after the full-scale invasion. And all found their way here thanks to the grapevine of the local Ukrainian community.
Svitlana is already busy with a client; the others are still preparing. From the television, the raspy voice of Sviatoslav Vakarchuk, frontman of the Ukrainian rock band Okean Elzy, hums in the background.
The door swings open. In walks Halyna Shershyn, the founder of the salon.
“I’m here for a massage!” she announces with a grin. Next comes a hair wash, a quick styling, a few shared jokes.
“This is exactly why I opened this place!” Halyna says, laughing.
Everything in the salon runs on mutual care. The women trade services — a hairstyle for a manicure, a coloring for a tattoo. For those who work here, it’s more than a salon. It’s support. It’s survival. It’s home.
Beauty is in demand among Ukrainians in Finland
Before the full-scale war, there were no traditional Ukrainian beauty salons in the Helsinki metropolitan area — only individual professionals offering single services such as cosmetology or hairstyling. Most Ukrainian women worked in Finnish or Russian salons.
After the full-scale invasion began, and as many Ukrainian women arrived in Finland, the beauty industry began to grow rapidly. Halyna’s salon was the first Ukrainian salon in the capital region — it opened in autumn 2022.

Today, according to Halyna’s estimates, there are around ten Ukrainian beauty salons and specialized studios in the capital region alone. In addition, many Ukrainian women rent workspaces in Finnish salons, hoping to open their own businesses in the future.
According to Startup Refugees, the beauty industry is one of the most in-demand fields among Ukrainian refugees in Finland — many seek opportunities to work, study, or start a business in this sector. Starting out by renting a salon chair or offering services from home requires relatively little investment — sometimes less than 1,000 euros.
There are no precise figures on how much Ukrainian women spend on beauty salon visits. In Ukraine, beauty treatments take up on average 35–50 percent of a woman’s monthly budget.
It is partly an echo of a Soviet past, when standing out wasn’t allowed. Now, beauty has become a symbol of freedom – yet also a source of anxiety: “What will people say?”
In a society that expects women to be beautiful, strong, good wives, caring mothers — and still build careers — appearance becomes another way of doing things “the right way.”
“It’s not just about looks. It’s a necessity. Some come for beauty as therapy, others — as an escape from problems, and some — for a joy they were once denied. But at the heart of it all is the desire to restore that inner strength that helps us endure,” Halyna says.
Beauty as a lifeline
An hour later, the salon is in full swing. A woman with a tattoo of birds in yellow and blue comes in for a touch-up — she wants to add a traditional pattern from her native Kharkiv region. Another client plans to spend the entire day here: massage, coloring, haircut. This isn’t just self-care — it’s a way to pull herself together.
By early afternoon, Anastasiia Obukhova, the trainee, arrives. She watches closely as Halyna works her magic with scissors on a client’s hair.
The salon is buzzing. Someone brings up a TV series; another tells a story about rescuing a baby hare; a third talks about fishing. Then, suddenly — a philosophical question: Can a tree that doesn’t bear fruit still be called a cherry?
In these everyday exchanges, entire worlds open up. The taste of home: berries picked from trees, dried, frozen, cooked into jam. And fish — once commonplace, until the annexation disrupted the supply chains from Crimea. A memory of the peninsula surfaces, then halts.
A pause hangs in the air for a few seconds — just long enough to take a deeper breath. Crimea has been aching for eleven years now.
Here, people speak about the war carefully. Often — in silence. But it’s always present.
Therapy through care
Back in Ukraine, women often remain loyal to the same beauty masters for years. It’s more than just trust in skilled hands — it’s a kind of bond. And here, in Finland, that tradition lives on.
“I know a lot about my clients – even the Finnish ones. But when it comes to something truly personal, it’s only with Ukrainian women. Finns have a different way of talking,” says Svitlana.

The only one people don’t usually talk to is the lash artist. Eyelash extensions require precision and quiet. A sharp tweezer, lash by lash — and clients lie still for two, sometimes three hours. And the silence becomes its own kind of care.
“I have a client who, before the war, was the chief accountant at a large company. Now she works as a cleaner. And she told me: ‘A manicure and pedicure give me strength. They help me not to lose myself,” Svitlana recalls.
She herself is from Mykolaiv. She remembers the early days of the full-scale invasion — still in Mykolaiv – when missiles were flying overhead. And yet, she kept working.
“The beauty space, coffee, clients — it all mattered so much then. We held each other together.”
Now, that same unity and beauty are a source of strength here — on Mannerheimintie.
“Yes, there’s a war in my country. But I still have to take care of the beauty of my nails. I did it in Ukraine, and it felt like me. That’s why I keep doing it here — it gives me strength,” says Ilona Yakolenko, a client.
Beauty is not a luxury — it’s a right
In the early days of the invasion, many newly arrived Ukrainians in Finland felt uncomfortable talking about beauty services – especially around compatriots who had moved to Finland long before 2022.
“They’d say, ‘Back then, we couldn’t afford anything. No one supported us like this.’ And now refugees get help — and a manicure too. But how do you compare fleeing war to emigrating by choice?” Svitlana says.

Halyna, the founder of the salon, faced criticism. In a Russian-speaking Facebook group, someone accused the salon of discrimination for offering discounts to Ukrainians. Hundreds of comments. Thousands of negative reactions.
“I replied, ‘I’m proud to be on the same team as Finnair, HSL, and other companies that support Ukrainians.’”
Later, it was Ukrainians themselves who criticized — saying the services were too expensive. The prices are lower than in most Finnish salons but higher than in Thai- or Arab-owned ones.
“All our regular clients get discounts. It’s just that over 80 percent of them are Ukrainian, so it feels like it’s only for ‘our people,’” Halyna explains.
As for Russian clients — there are almost none left. Only a few still come in — those who openly support Ukraine.
Between trends and traditions
Today, all the salon’s customers are either Ukrainian- or Russian-speaking. But Halyna also has Finnish speaking customers. She has grown accustomed to the cultural differences.
“Ukrainian women come for the mood. For them, it’s not just about the result — everything has to be perfect,” Halyna says.
“Finnish women come mostly out of necessity. Trim the ends, touch up the roots. Fashion doesn’t dictate anything to them.”
Halyna’s colleagues in the salon nod in agreement.
“Ukrainian women have always aimed high – even before the war,” adds Tetiana Kozlovska, carefully applying lashes onto the eyelid of a young Ukrainian woman quietly lying on the beauty bed.
If a new trend appears, Ukrainian women want to try it out right away. Currently, natural-looking eyelash extensions are trendy, Tetiana explains.

Svitlana notes that working with Finnish clients is simpler. In winter they pick red polish; in summer — pink. And afterward, they always say thank you.
Ukrainian women are pickier. They love complex colors, unusual combinations, and bold solutions. Svitlana recalls her first experience working with Finnish clients, back when the salon had just opened.
“I was so nervous. With Ukrainian clients, you can tell during the process — they’ll show you if they like it or not. But Finnish women are silent,” she says.
“I was doing a pedicure, and she just sat there — not a word. I thought I was doing something wrong. My hands started trembling. I was massaging her feet with cream, and out of nerves, I massaged all the way up to her knee. And she just stood up, looked calmly, and said: “Thank you. Good job.” And left.
The woman became one of her regulars.