The Sim: Nightlife Edition

Moscow doesn't pay a premium for cool -- it prefers its money where it can see the value: marble floors, naked African slaves, baby seal eyes for headlights. Real artistic projects have to be bankrolled by the frivolous rich. Lucky for Denis Simachev, Russia's richest man has a sense of humor. Roman Abramovich is reportedly on his team, and helped make $300 Cult of Putin and "Oil Is Our Everything" t-shirts a reality.



So the coolest thing right now in a town that doesn't care for cool is Simachev's 24-hour bar, which opened on April 12 on the bottom floor of his monobrand boutique. It has the black humor of a Diesel ad, and is perpetually stuffed with the kind of people that "get it" (and wear Mr. Rogers sweaters about it). The designers picked up a bunch of neat stuff from the flea markets of Europe and Asia:

• Ejector seat from a plane, available as an option for seating.
  
• Leopard skin rug.
  
• Cosmonaut helmut.
• Hentai mosaic of, oh fucking gross, weeping babes being taken from behind.
• Photoshopped mounted photograph of Bush dancing for whooping world leaders, Putin and Osama bin Laden included.
  
• Drawstring toliet (in a dining booth, also blecccch).

In fact, the unifying theme is "the potty" -- tile floors, shiny black laquer walls, spouts and fake sinks on the tables. According to MDBIT correspondent Matt Seagull, "That makes perfect sense: this place is full of shit." Sure, it's easy to hate Simachev with his pedophile mustache, Hare Krishna hair and unnerving emotional distance. But he shows us its all on the same humorous level: fashion, rape, war, poo. Simply put, he cooler than you.

Denis Simachev Bar, 12 Stoleshnikov Per., Metro: Teatralnaya, Tel. 629-8085

Photo: denissimachev.com, afisha.ru, elite.ru

To Viktor, the Eggs

Not all oligarchs are trying to overthrow the government. Viktor Vekselberg, once ranked Russia's third richest man, is paying his debt to society by repatriating Russian art, including $90 million worth of Faberge eggs in 2004. I'll tell you when I've had enough!


The eggs were briefly displayed at the Kremlin Armory for all to remember the fruity indulgences of Imperial Russia. Vekselberg is reportedly leasing a palace in St. Petersburg to permanently house them. It's a poetic bookend to the 20th century, bringing home useless toys of the aristocracy now that Russia's rolling in it.


But, the billionaire is more than a patriotc philanthropist. Today, The Moscow Times reported that his Renova group has become the biggest shareholder in Pallinghurst, which owns the rights to the Faberge brand. Together with Russia's largest diamond producer Alrosa, they'll produce "the world's most exclusive luxury goods brand," which is no idle threat. What, diamond omlettes?


Above all, its a smart physical investment. If Vekselberg falls out with Putin's Russia, he can grab the eggs and hightail it to Acapulco for quevos nuevos russos.

Photos: Getty Images

Treating Objects Like Women

Proof that New Russian chicks are hatched in a lab! Mooqla, the design partnership of Polina Voloshina and Artem Lebedev, makes silicone dyevushki that retail for $400-$450 apiece.


As we always suspected, the Barbies are unwell. The company's website supplies the dolls with a chilling back story, which is that they're disturbed teenagers, ages 14 to 16, held prisoner at a mysterious elite boarding school. One girl slits her veins to show there's blue blood running through, one lops off a bird's head with cuticle scissors and yet another, in a "Mean Girls" reprisal of the famous Tatiana Tolstaya story, goes batshit after friends send her letters from a fake admirer. That's crazy Sonya below. Great acessories, though.


Photos: mooqla.com, fashiontime.ru

It's Me, Arkady!

In the Second World, you can go far with a little gumption, and a lot of PR. There’s only one name most Muscovites can attach to food, the name of a man with his finger in every pie of the restaurant industry: Arkady Novikov. At a Novikov restaurant, the food is, well, it’s not about the food. He knows that restaurant-goers are only in it for the spectacle. Just make sure the place has meat, potatoes, sushi and vodka, then spend the rest of the money on design.

G’damn, he’s prolific! Probably 25% of the restaurants in the city have the Novikov name attached to them. He caters to the entire spectrum of the Moscow social hierarchy, starting with Yolki-Polki for the absolute bottom feeders to places like Tsarskaya Okhota and Veranda u Dachi, which are out of the reach of the plebes. (No, really! The Metro doesn’t run out to Rublevo-Uspenskoye Shosse.) But, the man is best known for in-town haunts that serve rabbit food to glamorous society bitches -- Vesna, Aist, Galereya, Vogue Café and Next Door. Last month, he coughed up another one of its ilk: GQ Bar, a terribly expensive restaurant-bar linked conceptually (and, to a lesser degree, financially) to the men’s style magazine.


The March 29 opening party saw a couple intriguing individuals from the world of serious things: Pavel Astakhov (Moscow defence lawyer, represented accused spy Edward Pope) and dapper Edward Limonov, founder of the National Bolshevik Party. Even dissidents get thirsty for fashion.



These people are saggy. Let’s go back to the golden youth. Ah…

Photos: elite.ru, room.su

Spring Breeeeak!

"Bleep you, world! No one gets down like Russians get down!" Compared to the fanny-packed, opinionated "Ugly American," the travelling Russian is loads more fun, yet just as scary for the uninitiated. Wherever he goes, he brings the whole tusovka with him. He will break your rib hugging too hard.

Here's 44100's photos from the Club Paradise Tour, a Russian-run music festival that drew clubbers and DJs from the brown muck of springtime Moscow for fun under the Egyptian sun at the beginning of March. After Turkey, Egypt is the most popular destination for Russian tourists on account of being close by, cheap and full of other Russians at play. Vice nailed the phenomenon:

If you want to meet Russians where they really party, your best bet is to see them on vacation in Egypt.

Since Russians are openly prejudiced against both dark-skinned people and each other, and since they view vacations as a time to drink and fuck at levels that make even their wildest weekends at home seem like Christian retreats, we recommend Egypt as the ideal way to mainline concentrated Russianness.

Photos: 44100.com

How to be a Brash, Young Russian Designer

1. Use your Natural Resources
Ironic distance from the past is brash. Communism is a bottomless well of fashion ideas, which only former Commies can tap into without seeming incredibly insensitive. Get to it before the Chinese!

Alena Akhmadullina. "Stremleniye k Sovershenstvu" (Aspiring to Perfection), 2007.

Igor Chapurin, Pret-a-porter, 2007.

Denis Simachev. Fall/Winter 2005-2006

Also, that furry, moving stuff -- kill it and wear it. Go on. You can do that here. Russia's primary natural advantage is expendable abundance: land, people, snow minks to wear on your head, hands and feet. Russia used humans as ammunition in WWII; no one is going to miss a few baby seals. See my loafers, former gophers...

Denis Simachev "Chukotka" Fall/Winter 2006-2007

Ilya Shiyan. Fall/Winter 2007-2008.

2. The Attitude Tee
English banalities are brash. But keep it simple, stupid.

Masha Tsigal "Milky Way" Fall/Winter 2007-2008.

Max Chernitsov. Spring/Summer 2006 "Hip Hop Da Rulz."

Cyrillic is better. Because you're effing proud to be Russian, yo.

Akhmadullina.

Denis Simachev "Bang! Bang!" Fall/Winter 2007-2008

3. Homoeroticism
Being gay in Russia is still edgy as hell. Stuff that'll elicit a beatdown on the street gives your collection the air of danger.

Shiyan.

Max Chernitsov. "Rybak! (The Fisherman!)" Fall/Winter 2007-2008.

Fresh Art. Spring/Summer 2007.

3. What about You?
As in most spheres of Russian society, it doesn't hurt to be a traditionally attractive woman.

Masha Tsigal. Night Life Awards 2006.

Alena Akhmadullina. In Style Russia, Sept. 2006

Even if you're a man.

Fresh Art-isan. Russian Fashion Week Fall 2005.

Make friends with famous people, so they'll go to your shows and/or model your stuff.

Rapper Detsl in Masha Tsigal.

Pop star Dima Bilan for Shiyan.
(Leather codpiece? Bonus points for homoeroticism.)

Hairstylist Sergei Zverev in Ilya Shiyan.
(Double Bonus Points: Famous homo in an attitude tee.)

4. Remember your Audience
Gazes cast serenely, confidently to the future, Misha and Masha are the New Russian prototype consumers. Sixty years ago, they'd have been on a poster. They're cultured, they're adventurous, they eat Thai food. But you just see what sort of hell breaks loose when you try taking his Roberto Cavalli logo tee away.

RFW pre-party at Dyagilev.

Undoing years of slavish devotion to Western brands isn't going to happen overnight. Like a stubborn five-year-old who refuses to eat anything but blue cheese, the fashionable Russian public must have its DSquared jeans and D&G skullcaps slowly coaxed away, and replaced with brash homegrown items.

Fresh Art.

Don't hold back! Moscow does not believe in nuance, and Moscow does not believe in tears.

Photos: alenaakhmadullina.com, elite.ru, fashiontime.ru, denissimachev.com, adensya.ru

The One About Irony

Playboy Olmeca Club, a promotional party series between Playboy Russia and Olmeca tequila, opened at Bon on March 29. It's not exceptional, not blog-worthy, but Bon is. Last spring, the management team behind unironic, unsubtle club Billionaire -- there was such a thing -- convinced French designer Philippe Starck to design its new, next-door restaurant. Starck, known for tasteful minimalism, turned the place into a freak show with Kalashnikov rifle lamps, taxidermy wearing bling, screaming skulls, mismatched cutlery, indecent frescoes, gold paint splattered on the walls. Also, the food sucks and costs a fortune. But, Moscow punk'd? Moscow called out? Nah.

element wrote:

"Moscow’s is done, admittedly, in the aesthetic of 'rich man with no taste.' Essentially, Bon is New Russian camp. But, if Starck meant to indict Moscow, the joke is on him because the line separating the people enjoying Bon ironically and those enjoying it non-ironically is blurred, or maybe nonexistent."

A. A. Gill disagreed. The irony is so deeply ingrained, it's recognized but not even viewed as a novelty anymore:

"Restaurants in Moscow are hysterically, emphatically, purposefully expensive and gaudy. They’re more gaudy, camp and flash than the Bolshoi Christmas Special. I went to [Bon], designed by Philippe Starck, which had gold Kalashnikov lampstands. If you want the Christmas-cracker wisdom of what the difference is between America and Russia, it’s that America is wholly without irony and Russia is wholly without anything that isn’t an irony. "

Here are people at the series opening: anonymous revelers; Masha Tsigal and her homegirl; socialite Ksenia Sobchak; Bosco di Ciliegi buyer Konstantin Andrikopoulos third; and a man with his fly unizipped. Oh dear, I just relaized that's designer Andrei Sharov. Enjoying Bon ironically or non-ironically? We'll never know.

Bon, 4/4 Yakimanskaya Nab., Metro: Polyanka, Tel. 737-8008

Photos: Starck.com, Mainpeople.ru