The Truth About Russian Dressing

ST. PETERSBURG | It was that rare case when I knew I couldn’t say out loud what I really thought. If I did, I thought, it would kill the interest in my country, and I didn’t want that to happen. As the only Russian journalist at the Sao Paulo Fashion Week, which I attended in January, I was besieged by Latin American television reporters asking me about the dress habits of the Russian people.

Some of them had been to Russia and were more specific in their questions. Why is almost everyone dressed in plain dark clothes as if they all work for the police and have to be inconspicuous, wondered one journalist from Buenos Aires. “Because Russia is one big fashion cemetery,” I resisted the urge to say, knowing that the phrase would go racing through the international fashion circles, and there was a very good chance it would stick.

The epithet, I admit, is not my own. It was uttered, desperately, by the director of a powerful St. Petersburg company that runs a string of the city’s most prestigious boutiques, including a Gianni Versace store.

“We bring whatever sells, as do our colleagues who deal with upscale clientele,” he said. “Yes, the way people dress here is a nightmare: regardless of their income, they buy mostly black, whether it is winter or summer and even if they have the money, when they are interested in a top brand.”

The truth is that in Russia nobody wants to stand out from the walls that surround them – both in the sense of producing a political statement that goes against the grain or making an original fashion statement. Standing out, regrettably, is not in the traditions of the Russian people, and it is not among the modern concepts that Russians have embraced.

Instead, sayings like “clothes do not make the man,” “pretty is as pretty does,” “never judge a book by its cover,” better reflect the country’s attitude toward fashion.

Indeed, the way people dress in a country tells much about their social attitudes. What I noticed in Brazil was that most people dress to communicate a message about themselves, their character, or even their mood on a certain day. Fashion is regarded as a communication tool, and what people are afraid of is looking boring. In Russia, loneliness is often regarded as the privilege of the intelligent, talking too much is a major sin, and those trying to dress to attract attention are typically viewed as superficial or even vulgar. Fashion here does not exist as a means of self-expression. Practical considerations rule in shopping for clothes here: I need a leather jacket, a pair of warm gloves and a wool scarf, and that’s all there is to it.

Providing an answer to the simple question “What will Russians wear this winter?” seems a Herculean task, but I’ll try to explain why.

In Russia, you have to say or do something intelligent to become an attractive person. It is not required from you that you are a pleasant person, either in looks or manners. One of the things that strikes foreigners who come to Russia is that many people do not say hello even to their neighbors who live in the same apartment block.

Unlike in many other countries, in Russia, fashion is one activity that divides society. A fashion statement here is de facto a financial statement, and any talk is actually about whether or not you can afford a certain brand item. One’s lower social status is generally seen as a barrier to entering the world of fashion.

There is more to the issue, however, than traditions and social attitudes.

It didn’t occur to my Latin American colleagues that in Russia shopping for clothes for most people is more hassle than it’s worth.

According to official statistics, 90 percent of shoes and 80 percent of clothes sold in Russia are imported. Importantly, retail prices usually are about three times the wholesale price. It is not uncommon to see a 500 percent price difference. Why is this happening? It is easy to blame the retailers but the situation is not that simple. The retailers have to deal with outrageous import duties and ridiculous rents. In Russia, more than one-third of retailers’ income goes toward rent. Import duties increase on a regular basis. This month, the Federal Customs Service doubled the minimum amount due on imported shoes.

As for the quality of the range, according to the Ministry of Trade, four out of five pairs of shoes sold in Russia are made in China. Originally purchased at $10 to $15 per pair, they are sold to customers at $50 to $300. The clothes market offers a similar picture. A Chinese factory gets $5 for a skirt that is eventually sold to the Russian customer at $25 to $60.

Russia has its own fashion labels and up-and-coming aspiring designers, but there is no domestic textiles industry to support them. Russian fashion is made with foreign fabric, foreign buttons, and foreign zippers, with the exception of some linen gowns and fur coats.

The importers say they buy almost exclusively in China and Turkey because, considering all the taxes, duties, rents, and utility bills, the more expensive clothes of European or Latin American producers would be impossible to sell. They also admittedly refrain from offering anything outside the classic conservative range because they find it too risky.

So, essentially, the Russian people are offered what was originally a cheap, plain, and low-quality product for the price of an original good-quality item. The irony is that ordinary Russians are in the end forced to pay a price that would normally allow a very diverse stylistic choice in countries as different as England, the Czech Republic, or Brazil. The Russian state is making substantial amounts of money on import duties and rent. If such policies persist, Russia’s reputation as a fashion cemetery looks certain to develop, while Russian customers will continue paying a high price for this unflattering image.