It was around this time, a little over a decade ago, that something was happening in fashion as rare and unexpected as the sight of Kate Moss in a tutu.
The front row of couture shows, that rare arrangement that often seems preserved in amber, underwent a kind of metamorphosis seemingly overnight. A group of young women emerged en masse, with a magnetic combination of beauty, charm, wealth and wardrobes that excited the fashion world. That they happened to be from Russia, once considered a fashionable wasteland and then a flashy comer, made them irresistible.
“The Czarinas Are Back,” crowed a headline in The New York Times, not long after a Style.com story dubbed them the new “Russian Federation.”
“They broke the stereotype of Russia,” said Robert Burke, founder of a luxury consultancy of the same name.
Also known as the Russian Fashion Mafia, the Russian Fashion Pack and the Russian Fashion Kings, they were a rotating group that included designer Vika Gazinskaya and model and charity founder Natalia Vodianova, but with a core of Miroslava Duma, a fashion editor and entrepreneur; Elena Perminova, a model with a Cinderella backstory; and Ulyana Sergeenko, a designer.
All were linked by their unconventional personal tastes, a tendency to change clothes several times a day, and their photographer friendliness and wealth. And they followed in the footsteps of Dasha Zhukova, the personality of society and an entrepreneur of the art and magazine world.
Her profile soared with the rise of street style and Instagram and the rise of Russia as a thriving post-glasnost market. They later built fiefdoms and brands of their own based on their early fashion fame. They were conspicuous bridges between Russia and the world.
As Karin Winroth, Associate Professor of Business Studies at Södertörn University in Sweden, wrote in the journal Baltic Worlds: “They were seen not only as role models and inspirations for fashion, but also as ambassadors of a new Russia. Her popularity has established Russia as a country of fashion inspiration.”
At least until this February, when Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine and those bridges looked very shaky — along with the way fashion itself can be a shortcut to acceptance, resonating beyond the individual and affecting perceptions in the world at large .
After all, makeovers aren’t limited to people.
The transitive theory of image formation
“People use fashion and taste to redeem themselves or to strengthen a larger project like a profession or a country,” said Sophia Rosenfeld, professor of history at the University of Pennsylvania and author of “Democracy and Truth: A Short History.” . “To whitewash oneself or a national culture or set of business practices.”
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Think of it as the theory of the transitive properties of taste and connoisseurship—properties that suggest shared value systems that transcend boundaries and connect worldviews—in practice.
It was true, said Ms. Rosenfeld, that it was already Empress Josephine who “helped bring legitimacy to Napoleon and the regime, transforming herself into a patron of French fashion and design, and becoming an icon for countries in made all of Europe. ”
Ditto the robber barons of the Golden Age and women like Caroline Astor and Alva Vanderbilt whose philanthropy, fashion and taste catapulted them into mainstream society. The same goes for the current Qatari royal family, which launched the Fashion Trust Arabia prize in 2018 under the aegis of Sheikha Moza bint Nasser and Sheikha Al-Mayassa bint Hamad Al-Thani, attracting Pierpaolo Piccioli, Olivier Rousteing and Naomi Campbell, among others Golf, to change the region’s image.
While Russians’ arrival on the fashion scene wasn’t necessarily a strategic move – it was probably partly about creating their own identity – there’s no question that the impact of their presence created a halo around their homeland.
They carried out a very specific, fashion-based form of outreach, just like other members of the elite who built museums, bought football and basketball clubs and international media properties, and understood early on that being embedded in the new image economy could lead to “Having doors open,” said Tommy Ton, who met Ms. Perminova through Ms. Duma, whom he met through Vika Gazinskaya, and who, as a street style photographer for Style.com, was like everyone else responsible for building her myth.
“Fashion has social and cultural aspects that are inextricably linked to brands’ livelihoods,” Burke said, citing the fact that fashion brands fund galas and art shows, film premieres and philanthropic events, and in some ways clothe attendees in the virtuoso cycle of access and the Instagram opportunities.
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July 5, 2022 at 4:38 am ET
As their following grew, designers began to see them as potential links to the new Russia, a market described by Goldman Sachs in 2009 as a key driver of “global consumption” and for which, as Ms. Winroth wrote, “it was crucial that the western fashion industry to have the right Russian intermediaries.”
The Russian fashion package, she wrote, is “perfect.” Ms. Perminova and Ms. Duma starred in a Ferragamo advertising campaign. Ms. Duma modeled for Louis Vuitton and Roger Vivier.
“They knew how to connect with people,” said Mr. Burke. “They represented style, sophistication, were very well traveled and had a lot of purchasing power. You were the new face of what people thought was Russia.”
Their narratives were only complicated by one thing: the fact that Ms. Duma and company were all married to oligarchs, or men close to oligarchs, when they burst onto the scene.
Ms. Duma, who was born in Siberia and whose father was a senator in the Russian Federation from 2004 to 2011 (and was also the head of the Ukrainian diaspora in Russia from 2005 to 2012; the family is of Ukrainian descent), to Aleksey Mikheev, whose father, Alexander Mikheev, is the Director General of Rosoboronexport, the state-controlled Russian arms exporter (currently on the list of those sanctioned by the United States, Britain, the European Union and Canada). Ms Perminova to Alexander Lebedev, a former KGB agent, banker and media mogul (currently on the Canadian sanctions list) whom she met after being arrested aged 16 for drug trafficking, and Mr Lebedev, then 44 and a member of the Duma stepped in after being contacted by her father. And Ms. Sergeenko, who grew up in Kazakhstan when it was part of the USSR and later moved to Moscow, to insurance billionaire Danil Khachaturov, former President of Rosgosstrakh.
Not that most people in Paris thought about those implications, because the husbands were almost never there.
“I met Elena Perminova’s husband once,” said Mr. Ton. “In general, they did not travel with their husbands. Even when I went to Moscow Fashion Week and visited her home, I rarely met the husband.”
The disappearance
They soon expanded their fashion presence in mini-fiefdoms. In 2011, Ms. Duma, who has a master’s degree in International Business from the Moscow State Institute of International Relations but started her career as an editor at Harper’s Bazaar Russia, opened a digital media platform called Buro 24/7, which grew to offices in 12 countries. She later split and positioned herself as a technology and sustainability guru, founded a consulting and investment firm called Future Tech Lab focused on materials science and biotechnology, and co-founded materials science/responsible fashion brand Pangaia. (She was named a Young Global Leader at the World Economic Forum in 2018.)
Ulyana Sergeenko went backstage from the front row, opening her own couture brand focusing on Russian artisanal techniques and qualifying for the official couture schedule under “Membres Invités”. Ms. Perminova opened Len & Gretchka, a bakery offering organic, gluten-free vegan breads, in both Moscow and London (where Mr. Lebedev has hosted the Raisa Gorbachev Foundation’s annual gala at his home in the grounds of Hampton Court Palace, and his elder son is a member of the House of Lords).
There have been issues along the way, including the fashion world’s rejection of Ms. Duma and Ms. Sergeenko following a racial slur Instagram scandal in 2018, and a fake news report that made the rounds later that year full of baseless allegations against Ms Duma (followed by more reports on Ms. Vodianova and Ms. Zuhkova) by a group calling itself the Kiev Fashion Resistance. And Mrs. Dumas surprise Appearance in the Mueller report in 2019, where she was identified as “a fashion industry contact of Ivanka Trump,” who passed “invitations” to Ms. Trump and Donald J. Trump at the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum in 2015.
However, her Instagram followers continued to grow – to 444,000 for Ms. Sergeenko, 1.8 million for Ms. Duma and 2.5 million for Ms. Perminova. While the titles don’t reflect their actual careers, they continued to be labeled “influencers” and “it girls,” which is a reflection of how the still-watching world once viewed them.
Now, even though Ms. Sergeenko and Ms. Duma are divorced, and Ms. Duma and Ms. Perminova both posted black squares in response to the invasion of Ukraine, their story has almost rendered them obscure. Many of the designers who once embraced them are wary of discussing them.
Ms. Duma, who stepped down as Pangaia’s corporate head in 2020 (she continues to make investments through Future Tech Lab), deleted her Instagram feed earlier this year. Ms. Sergeenko is not in the couture program and her brand has not posted anything since February. There are many rumors that they have all been “recalled” to Russia. They do not respond to requests for comments and direct messages.
They are, shall we say, friends who do not want to be named because they are worried about how the Kremlin might react, worried that their previous profiles might attract unwanted attention. They risk being seen as traitors if they speak up, or seen as accomplices in an industry that was quick to pledge allegiance to Ukraine if they remain silent.
Stuck on the bridges they once built as a new Iron Curtain descends, giving everything a new look.
Valeriya Safronova contributed to the coverage.