Clothing and politics

What clothes and underwear were wore the Bolshevik leaders. The collector and the cutter tell *** Turkish bath. Istanbul women about hammam *** what and how they drink in Sweden

Excerpts from the program:

Victoria Sevryukova (costume designer, collector of underwear): “I am collecting a very true story of the country that was once called Russia. If not for 1917, Russia would be at the forefront of linen fashion. By the 1900th year, Russian linen was according to artistic ideas, in performance, according to the materials of one of the best in Europe. In 1900, we received a gold medal at a worldwide exhibition in Paris. The small private workshop of Abramson received a medal. We brought corsets with a lightweight line to Paris. This is Atlantis that has disappeared. In the 20s during the NEP, corset workshops were preserved, then they introduced a huge tax, the inspectors went to the sound of a sewing machine, and all the homeless, all the Beloshweiks were destroyed. The Bolsheviks invaded the intimacy zone. It's scary. How could you make everyone put on satin underpants! Outside of the gender, outside the sport. This Soviet unisex was invented to destroy the people, family, and generally man. It was against everything that was Russian. This is a civilizational disaster. I can say about it by laying out my collection. Russia is a female country. To immerse us in the Red Banner is almost destroying us. Trotsky very well understood how the costume acts on the masses, unlike Vladimir Ilyich. When there was a Tsaritsyan operation, Trotsky sewed a jacket and a caliph of scarlet leather. This is not visible in the photographs. He caused a row of theatrical ecstasy among the soldiers. It was a double of Franch Kerensky, a jacket, who determined the fashion of a political elite for many years. Stalin wore cast French Kerensky. In my collection there are pants' almost all members of the Politburo: Budyonny, Voroshilov. They adjusted to the owner. Outwardly, they were absolute duplicate Stalin. But linen characteristics are something incredible. Kaganovich adored viscous linen of salmon color, pale pink peach linen with cheap processing. Stalin wore only soldier's linen. He had an asceter from the outside and inside. Beria did not allow herself to take risks. If he unexpectedly undressed, he would be quite worthy of his master. But he had funny night shirts with lace. As for Palson, the entire underlying kit, Beria was modest, unlike Koskrebyshev, who had an old -regime pants from thin garlic, and huge mother -of -pearl buttons in all causal places. In lingerie, people were real. ”

Turkish bath (hammam)

From the essay "Truth about Turkish baths":

Dust in Istanbul is as much as cleaners of shoes. She is eternal, but their dynasties also go back to the stone age. Rinse dust in the bath. For me in the bathhouse no less magic than in a harem. The stuffiness and spirituality are adjacent to the Turkish bath in the same way as in the dictionary. You stretch under the dome and a minute in the tenth, going into a semi -high state, you find yourself like in a mosque.

The ritual of all bath procedures is defined once and for all. In a separate room, narrow as a compartment, you undress and go out of there in one loincloth. The caretaker gives you wooden boat and shows you with a finger at the dressing room. There you are waiting for a banner, your slave and lord. He leads you to the steam room, all the way, and laids on a large white -gramin table next to the same human carcasses. Fifteen minutes later, your soul is inflated. Wash you in another room. There, the spiritual intensity comes to naught. But on the other hand, the banner trembles you with the sandpaper mitten so desperately that you are ignited by bodily. In order for you to appreciate care, the banner from time to time nods his head at the gray ripples, which is covered with your skin, as if it is rubbing with a student elastic band. If the binded sheet subsides, the banner delicately puts it on the shameful part. Cleaned and washed, you are leading to another marble bed and they begin to knead there. At some point, the banner in the fusion does it with his feet. For some reason, you perceive the crunch of your own body. After all who served you, after you need to thank you bakshish.

"Red dry" with the poet and philologist Ilya Kutik.

How and what they drink in Sweden