Taking Fashion to the French

Of the brave first generation of Russian fashion designers, no one is as flamboyant and extravagant as Valentin Yudashkin (photo below). Yekaterina Ignatova finds out what lies behind the success of this eccentric aesthete. Sketches and Yudashkin photo courtesy of Yudashkin House of Fashion. Other photos by Mikhail Bogachov.

In Soviet times, the concept of a fashionable woman always had a negative shade of meaning. Genuine ‘builders of communism’ simply could not be fashionably dressed. While overalls or KGB uniforms might have been considered ideal dress for the Soviet woman, in real life she would normally wear locally-manufactured skirt suits resembling working clothes. If she were very lucky, she could buy clothes produced in socialist bloc countries, but this generally required spending half a day standing in line. Moreover, as the imported clothes often arrived in big batches of identical items, women found themselves dressing in a kind of involuntary uniform, and there was little room for the expression of individuality.

Perestroika opened the way for young Russian fashion designers eager to dress women. Among them was a charming, long-haired youth called Valentin Yudashkin, an ordinary graduate in fashion design from teacher training school.

Yudashkin started his career in the Moscow House of Fashion, at the time the only one of its kind in the city, managed by Vyacheslav Zaitsev, the only couturier in the Soviet Union. But tensions with Zaitsev and the pressure of working on obligatory state orders persuaded Yudashkin to abandon his job and launch his own business.

In 1987 Yudashkin created his first collection. In those days he could not have even imagined that his clothes would one day appear on the same catwalk as those of Christian Dior, Hubert de Givenchy and Christian Lacroix. Nevertheless, just four years later Valentin took his Faberge collection to Paris and staged a presentation... in the Russian embassy.

A few years previous, such a scenario would have been simply impossible. The embassy, never before opened to outsiders, received 600 visitors. The demonstration of the Faberge collection, inspired by the works of art created at the turn of the century by the company of the same name (see Russian Life Practical Traveler section, May issue), was highly successful.

Today, many in the fashion industry accuse Yudashkin of having taken advantage of the tide of interest in the Soviet Union to break through to the French market. However, recalled Yudashkin, “when in 1991 I told my French friends that I was going to organize a presentation, they were genuinely surprised. They tried to convince me that nobody would come, since at that time Gorbachev had just sent tanks to the Baltic states.”

Since 1992, Yudashkin has been creating haute couture collections and presenting them as a guest of high fashion weeks twice a year in Paris. His models always have a ‘Russian flavor,’ — rich in ornaments and bright in an almost theatrical way. Many fashion critics consider this feature specific to Russian design and traditions. Russian designers do not simply clothe, they decorate and dress up their models.

Some, Yudashkin among them, used to have great successes with their theatrical costumes, but this led to difficulties breaking into the ordinary fashion market. Historical and theatrical collections of his like Frescos, Catherine the Great and Ballet, and indeed the majority of his designs, are simply unwearable. While Parisian designers look at practical, dark, simply-cut items for forthcoming collections, Yudashkin still aims to impress his audiences with rich colors and an abundance of hoop-skirts. And while the French thoroughly evaluate the cost of material for their new collections, Yudashkin spares no time or expense in his search for the materials he needs.

“I’m fond of expensive and beautiful clothes,” he said, “like satin, brocade and silk.”

In 1996, the House of Yudashkin became the first Russian (associate) member of the prestigious Chambre Syndicate de la Haute Couture (Syndicate Chamber of High Fashion). His designs are now displayed in the Louvres Museum of Dress, and in the Californian and Olympic museums of fashion.

What is the secret of his success?

“I’ve been working in official fashion for seven years, and that’s a normal period of time in which to achieve success,” ventured Yudashkin. “It’s not that I’m brighter or more talented, but you have to work at things. Our fashion house regularly goes on tour round the country and therefore I have the opportunity to create haute couture collections.”

As well as touring, Yudashkin maintains a high profile domestically by dressing many Russian show business celebrities, as well as several bankers and politicians. Most recently, he designed costumes for the Russian Olympic team.

But even when you consider that the cost of his clothes varies from $500 minimum for his pret-a-porter line to as much as $17,000 and $19,000 for some couture items, such projects are not sufficient to keep a fashion house in the black. In fact, Yudashkin spends about $500,000 per collection. Not all French couturiers, even those with serial production of perfume, cosmetics and accessories, can afford to spend so much money on collections.

Valentin’s secret is simple — he uses sponsors’ money, the sources of which he prefers not to divulge. Nor is this tendency to spend other people’s money peculiar to him. Every successful Russian couturier is helped by sponsors.

Nevertheless, Yudashkin is not bothered about his precarious position, so dependent on the whims of Russia’s ultra-rich. He is sure that, if support from influential friends dries up, he will be able to live off the Saudi Arabian market.

“Of course it’s got nothing to do with creativity, though,” he said. “You never see your customer, you work from a design description and you can’t do anything you want. You have to follow traditions — all parts of the body should be covered, if something has gold on it, it should be real gold, if precious stones then sapphires and diamonds. But the money’s good. You can make a dress like that and live without any problems for a whole year”.

Valentin likes to design for a certain type of lady. “My favorite women’s age is over 30. By this age they are interesting to talk to as well as look at... They’ve lost their aggression but not their sexuality. These are women who’ve found themselves, found their style and raison d’etre — they’re elegant and businesslike.”

In one respect, Valentin Yudashkin is a rare breed among designers — he is married. His wife Marina is a prominent hairdresser, doing hair styles for his presentations at the fashion house. She also replaces him as director when he goes on his trips to Paris.

“We have a strict division of roles,” said Marina. “My husband is responsible for aesthetics. He dictates what should be the color of kitchenware, blinds and furniture. He dresses me and himself but he has no time for his daughter.”

Yudashkin’s only daughter is five years old. She frequently participates in both Moscow and Paris presentations. Once her father impressed the audience by bringing her out at the very end of the show dressed as a bride. Yudashkin is anxious that his child should grow up surrounded by beautiful things and always be able to differentiate between genuine beauty and bad taste. She, at least, along with the more affluent of her generation, will never experience the indignity of identical production-line clothing. As one of the more daring and off-beat of today’s Russian designers, her father has helped to ensure that the country’s stylistic elite does not limit its purchases to Western imports. RL

Yekaterina Ignatova is a reporter at the weekly magazine Ogonyok.