“Post-Soviet” fashion: the new empire of cool<

Previously, when we had to form a stereotypical image of the post-Soviet style, we took as a basis a woman with soft blond hair, endowed with a luscious mouth, blue eyes like the waters of Baikal, a slender waist surmounted by a buxom chest and followed by endless legs. The doll was then decked out in tight, short fabrics, all mounted on vertiginous heels. And for men, the ultimate reference was a muscular, shirtless man on a horse.

But that was before. Before the fashionsphere is swept away by young designers who are blowing an easterly wind on fashion. The best-known names in this avant-garde are Demna Gvasalia, founder and artistic director of the Vetements brand (also the creative head of Balenciaga), Gosha Rubchinskiy and consultant-stylist-model Lotta Volkova. A new generation of creators who do not do bling-bling but want to promote, according to what they say in the media, an “alternative elegance”.

An inspiration from 1990

Which translates into a look baptized "post-Soviet" by prescribers and largely inspired by that of penniless suburbanites in the countries of the former Soviet bloc in the 1990s (the "gopnik" in Russian): a mix sportswear (training, hooded sweater, imposing logo) and workwear, all in an oversize version, full of details and exotic references (inscriptions in Cyrillic letters, hammers and sickles).

This style is based on an authentic and extremely effective storytelling from a marketing point of view. Example? The yellow t-shirt with the DHL logo from the Vetements brand, a creation sold for around 250 francs (compared to 6.50 dollars for the one sold on the delivery company's website) and sold out in a few weeks after its arrival in stores.

Read also:Demna Gvasalia, the fashion of the future

New wave

“Fashion is always on the lookout for new ideas,” comments Djurdja Bartlett, professor of fashion history and culture at the London College of Fashion. Designers like the Russian Gosha Rubchinskiy or the Georgian Demna Gvasalia, who draw their visual references from the everyday life of the post-Soviet period, brought to the industry in 2016 the new energy it was looking for. The end of the USSR marked the beginning of a period of emancipation and openness for the youth of the 1990s, who then discovered Western pop culture – notably MTV and American sportswear brands – and reappropriates its codes, like the stylistic and protest revolution of the punks in the 1970s.

Turn your #porch into a second living room with a #DIY porch swing. We'll show you how to build one in a weekend wi… https://t.co/THav3BgLgv

— Happy Heart Thu Aug 01 08:56:16 +0000 2019

"It's interesting to see how this trend seeps into mainstream culture, in magazines for example with Brutalist buildings being used as the backdrop for fashion shoots, at Topshop where clothes with Cyrillic letters and the rise of general interest in this myth of the new post-Soviet wave”, illustrates the Russian journalist based in London Anastasiia Fedorova, who writes in particular for Dazed, ID, Vice, The Guardian or even Business of Fashion.

From east to west

Like other regions of the world, Russia is turning away from ostentatious fashion in favor of more intellectual creation, worn by the country's young designers who use clothing as a vector of personal, even political, expression.

A vision far removed from the statutory luxury that raged among the Russian new rich in the 2000s. “After the dissolution of the USSR, the years of Perestroika under Mikhail Gorbachev (1985-1989) allowed the of communication with the West, and the creativity of the citizens of the countries of the former Soviet bloc to finally express itself, develops Professor Djurdja Bartlett. Rubchinskiy, Gvasalia and Lotta Volkova, who grew up during this period, had a front row seat to observe and be marked by these cultural and aesthetic changes, the liberalization of the market and mores, the arrival in stores of American brands, etc. »

A baggage of mixed influences that they take with them when they leave their country of origin to reach the West, and in particular Paris, where they refine their technical skills and their understanding of the fashion industry. To better take it by storm. “Rubchinskiy was born in 1984 in Moscow, Demna and her brother, Vetements CEO Guram Gvasalia, in a small town in Georgia in 1981 and 1985, and Lotta Volkova in 1984 in Vladivostok. But it was in Paris that they all met, partying, and that's also where they found success."

terrible children

For young designers from Russia and the countries of the former Soviet bloc, the advent of the "post-Soviet" trend is a kind of revenge. "Of course, creation - whether it's fashion, art, architecture or even music - is governed by cycles of popularity, but that does not prevent the new energy coming from ex-Soviet bloc is a diversification that does a lot of good: it shows that talent is not only found in London, Paris or New York", rejoices Thomas Beachdel who co-curated with the Czech artist Marie Tomanova "Youth Explosion : The New Bohemia” in 2016 at the Czech Center in New York.

The “post-Soviet” trend makes artists from the countries of the former Soviet bloc highly desirable, turning them into ultra-cool rebels that everyone wants to rub shoulders with. Which is not to displease the creators, who feel they belong to the movement. “We are a bit like teenagers who are a little aggressive but curious about everything. There are so many things that we are just discovering, it piques people's interest,” exclaims photographer Turkina Faso and designer Asiya Bareeva, who both work between London and Moscow.

"Fetishization of the working classes"

The trend, by scrutinizing the poverty of the suburbs through marketing, operates a commercialization of misery which raises several questions. “The fetishization of the working classes is problematic from an ethical point of view, admits Anastasiia Fedorova, who has written extensively on this subject. Many people are offended by this. Personally, this is not what shocks me the most. What is intolerable is that creators from countries like Ukraine and Georgia are placed under the same “post-Soviet” banner. These nations have suffered enough. To have them wear this label is to have a completely post-colonial vision of geopolitics, a way of denying the past of these countries.

A nuance that has certainly escaped most players in the fashion industry, little interested in these political considerations. And besides, why get excited around a term doomed to be dethroned by the next? "When someone talks to me about this post-Soviet trend, I can't help but think of the exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum in New York in 2013, "Punk: Chaos to Couture", evokes Thomas Beachdel.

This hanging consisted in fact of a gigantic promotion for the advertisers of Condé Nast magazines and absolutely not of a monograph devoted to the punk style and its political context (the United Kingdom in the 1970s, the strikes and the disorder during the Winter of Discontent, Tacherism, maddening unemployment figures...). The "post-Soviet" trend is just as little politically engaged for me. Just think of the prices of clothes from Vetements: none of the young people from the suburbs that the brand is inspired by can afford them!”