Welcome to the Jungle, or the One about Feis Kontrol

Dyagilev? Dyaga-dead. September 13 saw the opening of another elitny megaclub contender, "Versus." According to its press release, the name means "against" in Latin, but all of Moscow is very "for" this club. It allegedly has 1,500 person capacity, Venetian-themed go-go girls, two dance floors and a pool which they threaten to fill with sharks and champagne. (While this seems like a joke, it most likely is not. I will alert animal control.)

Versus doesn't want your money. Versus wants to lick your salty tears.

All of this is unsubstantiated, however, because all the people I know were turned away from the opening. Moreover, in the twenty minutes they were out there, crying, they didn't see anyone let in either. Spotlights, cue-ball headed bouncers, fanfare, but no entry. An interesting move, Versus. Most clubs will sadistically extend to you the option of sacrificing half your crew, the ugly ones, to get inside. Which you, of course, gladly accept. What can I say? In the words of Guns and Roses, ya learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play.

This is for the rest of the world, which is used to getting into places without human debasement: In Moscow you can be arbitrarily denied entrance to everything — clubs, Kofe Haus, libraries, whatever. I was once notably feis-kontrolled from an elevator, and no amount of lies and chicanery would get me to the 33rd floor. All this functions to make you want what's inside real bad, even when you know it's just going to be a lot of this:

Wax replica of Sergei Zverev.

She looks like the inspiration for my former musical project, I Hate Your Corny, Endomorphic Girlfriend.

Caligulan dwarf "Andreas" of Rai.

Ha! He got in, not you. Might as well go hang yourself in the bathroom.

Which reminds me. Special for MDBIT readers: There's a hot new club opening up in the underpass by Aeroport metro. It's called Kiosk. Password is "Jaguar," but rumor is no one gets in. Keep this on the down low though, they don't have their liquor license yet.


Versus, 15A Oruzheiny Per., Metro: Mayakovskaya , Tel. 225-1913
Kiosk, 59 Leningradsky Prospect, Metro: Aeroport

Photos: adensya.ru, www.happyland-drink.ru

Glug, Glug, Glug

*Hic* Shaddup, you don't know me.

Alcopop sampler platter, available at your nearest kiosk.

Story of Shake

If you are reading these lines — then we've succeeded in gathering people that live and think just like us. It’s 2003, and the market for slaboalkogolny (low-alcohol) kiosk beverages in the former Soviet bloc is booming. Alcotrade opens in the Ukrainian town of Zhashkiv, on the border between the Kiev and Chernihiv oblasts, drawing from "three artesian wells" and employing state-of-the-art Italian bottling equipment, according to the company’s website. Their most popular line is of Shake bottled cocktails, which follow simple Western cocktail recipes (provided with "great reluctance" by America’s Red & Blue Beverages company, who "rigidly supervise" Alcotrade's facilities). A unique twist-off opening (stick the top of one Shake into the bottom of the other) fuels a memorably suggestive ad campaign: "А кто откроет твой Shake?” (Who is opening your Shake?)*. We are all quite different — some of us are individualists, some cosmopolitans, others are Buddhists, atheists or escapists. We can be capitalists, moralists, teachers and students, dark-skinned or white. As the demand for slaboalkogolny beverage drinkers grows steadily in the former CIS, as well as further afield, Alcotrade moves to "establish the mutually beneficial relations with the foreign importers and distributors of the alcoholic drinks," targeting Belarus, Moldova, Kazakhstan, Israel and, of course, Russia. By 2005, the brightly-colored Ukrainian import is available in the majority of Moscow’s kiosks at prices of 30 to 40 rubles. That year, Shake exports 24 million bottles to capture 30.5 % of the Russian market.** (Note: The canned slaboalkogolny market, dominated by Happyland, is, ahem, an entirely different can of worms.) Sixty percent of Shake consumers are female, and the most active consumers are 18 to 20-year-olds. But we've got one thing in common: we all know that the best thing one can do with his or her life is to live it to the fullest. Shake’s popularity draws from a stylish, Western-influenced marketing campaign aimed at young drinkers at a time when such advertising for strong alcohol is forbidden. In 2003, advertising-focus group UMP finds that the drink is considered fashionable and elite, "more refined than simply vodka with juice."*** Each flavor is married to an exoticized locale or subculture: Absinth Lime to Paris, Ginero to the Brazilian Carnavale, Jungle Juice to the Amazon, etc. Open a Tequila Sombrero and you’re transported to Mexico, "the craziest place on Earth" where "lonely amigos lazily nurse their tequilas." Party suggestions are also provided for each cocktail; Tequila Sombrero begs a Day of the Dead fiesta with Shakira, body paint and leftover Ostankinskaya sausage. None left? "Just go to the nearest large supermarket and grab the most exotic food you come across." Each one of us is unique. And that's perfectly enough to be great. Each one of us is rich at least with not owing anything to anyone.

Shake

* Гаршина, Анна. “На повестке дня: «разборки» брендов.” Iskra. 13.09.2004.
** “Shake будут производить в России.” Sostav.ru. 25.05.2006.
*** “Shake It, Baby! История рождения торговой марки Shake.” Noviye Marketing. 20.01.2004