I have had an infatuation with Russia since the third grade, when I found a book stuffed full of bizarre, macabre Russian fairy tales in my elementary school library. I’m fairly sure I was the only one who ever checked this book out, as everyone else was put off by the the cottage with chicken feet on the cover. Babies.This love is compounded by the fact that I’m often mistaken for a Russian when I’m traveling abroad. I suspect it has less to do with my blond hair and more to do with my oddly sulky ambient expression. If I’m not giggling behind my hand, I apparently look like I should be slurping borscht and glaring at soldiers over a copy of ”The Brothers Karamazov.”
So if I was to move to Russia tomorrow, what would I wear?
Okay, so I’m well aware that Russians probably don’t wear sickle and hammer t-shirts. But I’m nothing if not committed to a theme! Please note the lovely riding boots for running over icy cobble stones, the Moscow caliber parka, the hat (probably made from the hide of a Czar’s pet bear) and the babushka-worthy scarf. I would wear this while I read ‘Anna Karenina,’ snuggled against the steamy windows in the Trans-Siberian’s dining car.
Because I’m sure that Russian women often dress in a manner that approximates those delicious little nesting dolls, right? Okay, no. But! This outfit would be perfect for running through fields of poppies during the first days of spring. I suspect it would also be good for making piroshki with my Mommachka or wearing to a party where I would drink too much vodka and do that impressive kicking dance.
And this little ensemble? Well, this is obviously for those nights when my bearded, Mafia boss lover takes me to see Mikhail Baryshnikov dance in Leningrad. We smoke too much, nibble on bliny and loll in the huge velvet seats of our theater box. I am thoroughly exhausted by the other molls, but make pleasant chit chat in an attempt to be friendly.
What country’s couture do you covet?