Do fashion trends come from a cultural void? Are they simply, like a peacock’s plumes, decoration intended to lure a mate, fluttered in the summer months with thick waft of pheromones? Do hemlines and necklines rise and fall with tides?
Of course not. Fashion is modeled with a mind toward practical circumstance, biological predisposition, social context, historical fortunes, gender politics and, of course, flame retardation.
Walking the streets of Kyiv on a summer day, one might assume that the sheer abundance of displayed flesh owes a debt of gratitude to Ukraine’s days of independence. But in reality, some of Ukraine’s most revealing fashion trends can be traced not to the post-Soviet era, but to the now reviled leaders of the nation’s socialist past. For fashion trends, look not to the skies, look not to the West, look not to the latest Madonna video, but look to the annals of history.
Take the “skyscraper” heels, for instance. Very few people know this, but it was V.I. Lenin himself who was the first proponent of the 3-inch stiletto. A professed lover of what he referred to as a “firm, proletarian calf,” he lamented the increased urbanization that followed the Revolution and the attendant atrophy that came from hours of assembly-line standing.
“The fate of the workers’ revolution rests on the heels of our female comrades,” he was fond of saying.
This, of course, was the party line. If we take a closer look, we’ll see a more Freudian motivation. Lenin’s mother was a tall woman. Some reports state that she was 7 feet 3 inches tall in stocking feet. Others claimed she was a mere 5 feet 6 inches tall in bare feet.
“She was enormous and I loved her,” Lenin wrote in his diaries. Rumor has it that the trend began when he forbade his personal secretary from wearing flat shoes. She was also reportedly required to tickle him under the chin and say, “Who’s Mama’s little boy? You are. Yes. Youuuuu are.” This latter part, of course, is mere rumor.
The visible bra phenomenon can be traced to the cloistered confines of Stalin’s chambers. Tales of the leader’s paranoia are legendary, and they extended to the fashions of his closest female advisers. One aide had the misfortune of wearing a particularly thick sweater on a cold day. Upon seeing this, Stalin flew into one of his characteristic rages.
“She could be smuggling anything under there,” he screamed at his chief of staff. “Balloons maybe. Does my safety mean nothing to you?” He was referring, of course, to a fateful incident involving the state circus. Incidentally, this is also the origin of the colloquial term “balloon smuggler.”
It was Stalin’s rage that led to the Soviet development of thong technology. He interpreted the visible panty line as an attempt by others to highlight that they were turning their backs on him. Spotting one particular offender, he grabbed his minister of finance and screamed, “What the hell is that?”
“Underwear, Comrade Stalin,” replied the startled minister.
“Under there!” replied Stalin, pointing at the offending rear.
“Underwear,” replied the minister, afraid to correct the error.
“There! There! Right there! What is that?”
At a loss for how to better explain the situation, the minister again said, “It’s underwear, comrade.”
The minister was terminated, but this little-known scene later became the basis for a much-loved Abbott and Costello sketch. It also inspired the incensed leader to set his people to work creating underwear that would not leave a visible mark, even when worn under tight-fitting slacks.
It took Gorbachev’s perestroika to initiate the great “Underwear Thaw” of the late 1980s. During this time of relaxed tensions, women were permitted and even encouraged to wear beige or off-white thongs under white pants. The visible underwear became a political statement, a symbol of personal and national liberation. It is a trend that continues to this day.
So remember, when you see a young woman marching down Khreshchatyk in stilt-high heels and visible underwear, this outfit owes a debt to Ukraine’s forefathers of fashion. It is both a visible symbol of the past and a harbinger of a free and democratic future. It is a fashion statement that says: “I am woman. Hear me roar – and meet me at midnight at Al Capone.”
