The First Subculture of the Soviet Union

[00:00:00]Greetings, comrades! What comes to mind when you  hear the word “subculture”? Something vibrant, non-mainstream, and incomprehensible  to the general public. Typically, members of subcultures want to express some  form of protest, to show that they are unhappy with widely accepted values and norms.  In their desire for self-determination, they’re ready to do the craziest things—for  example, wear skinny pants and bright socks, take good care of their hair, listen to jazz,  and walk with a relaxed, easy stride. What, that doesn’t sound all that crazy? Now here’s a small  detail: This subculture emerged in Stalin’s USSR, when wearing a plain Hawaiian shirt was enough  to get groups of activists to chase you down the street and have you denounced at Komsomol  meetings. They could ruin your clothes or even cut off your slicked-back hair. You could  be forcibly taken to the police station on charges of hooliganism and photographed for  exposé articles. Such was the life of the “stilyagi”—the “Soviet hipsters” of the 1950s—who  simply wanted to live like those in the West.

[00:01:20]How do subcultures actually emerge? In 1950,  American sociologist David Riesman defined the concept of a subculture as a group of people  who deliberately choose a lifestyle and values favored by a minority. In other words, people  who want to be different from everyone else, who don’t want to be part of the gray mass.  Incidentally, it was precisely in the 1940s and 1950s that the first three groups of young people  emerged in three big countries, groups that would later be called the first subcultures in history.  In the U.S., these were the Beatniks. America was experiencing a political shift to the right and  a capitalist boom, so young people drifted to the left—rejecting consumerism and conformism,  devouring the works of Eastern philosophers, and experimenting with their sexuality. In the United  Kingdom, the Teddy Boys emerged—working-class youth who adopted Edwardian-era styles from  the early 20th century and emulated the pre-war “golden youth” as a symbol of their desire  to rebel against rigid class structures and asceticism.. The Stilyagi were the children of the  postwar Soviet Union. What values and lifestyle could Soviet youth, who disliked the idealized  image of Soviet life that the authorities were earnestly trying to create, have chosen for  themselves? The capitalist ones, of course—Western and materialistic. Actually, all three subcultures  emerged because the postwar period was a difficult time. The reasons were different: the USSR was  catastrophically devastated, while the U.S.

[00:02:55]did not face such problems (the issues were more  ideological). And young people everywhere are the same—they simply wanted to live normal lives,  free from boring adult culture and political mobilization. So, they chose the forms of symbolic  protest available to them. In a sense, the "Stilyagi" were the mirror image of the Beatniks,  but with a Teddy Boy aesthetic. They didn't actively protest against the authorities; they  simply chose to live "their own" way, parallel to the mainstream. While progressive young people  across the ocean were criticizing bourgeois society and reading Marx, here in the USSR, they  dreamed of America and wore American clothes.

[00:03:37]The funny thing is that there never really was a  "stilyagi" movement per se. But we know exactly where the word came from—1949, the satirical  magazine *Krokodil*, and a column of the same name, which describes a young man whom the  author calls a “stilyaga” (claiming that they call themselves that). At that time, a "stilyaga"  was a fashionista who danced the lindy hop and was extremely ignorant—unable to distinguish  Tchaikovsky from Mussorgsky yet knowledgeable about 45 types of pants and able to explain which  ones were in style that season. Even the word “stilyaga” itself didn’t seem derogatory.  "A stylish person," "style hunter." No, of course, in the Soviet Union, where everyone  was supposed to look, think, and act the same, it sounded like an insult. But in fact, Soviet  critics simply invented the term “stilyaga” to describe various “deviant” forms of behavior.  For example, in the 1959 issue of the journal Questions of Speech Culture, the author of one of  the articles wrote that there was a "bad" segment of Soviet youth and that the word "stilyagi,"  coined by our intelligent people, was used to "put them in their place." However, there is  not a single piece of evidence that any of these hipsters actually said, "I am a stilyaga!"  Rather, there were quite diverse groups of young people who loved music, dancing, and fashionable  clothes, were interested in Western culture, and all of them were called “stilyagi” at  different times and with varying frequency. So, who were they? The vibrant, free-spirited young  people featured in so many nostalgic films? Or the spoiled "golden youth" who were easily swayed  by trinkets from the West? Both, actually.

[00:05:22]As I’ve already mentioned, the stilyagi adopted  the quiet protest of the beatniks and the shock tactics of the Teddy Boys. But one thing  they certainly weren’t was Anti-Soviet, as they are sometimes portrayed. Yes, they  rejected many norms of Soviet “morality”; they didn’t want to spend their lives toiling  at a workbench for the sake of the country’s bright future or marching in formation at May Day  parades. But at the same time, they were fairly apolitical. They didn’t attend rallies (something  unthinkable in those years), didn’t organize anti-Soviet underground gatherings, and didn’t  shout slogans like “Down with Stalin.” Moreover, a huge segment of the stilyagi consisted of the  Soviet “golden youth”—the children of government officials and Party workers. In other words, these  were people who were direct beneficiaries of the existing Soviet system and were not particularly  interested in its overthrow. Their priviliged positions allowed them to travel abroad and  bring back stories of a happy capitalist life, fashionable clothes, music, and dances. How, then,  did they express their subcultural disapproval of Soviet ideology? Through a distinctive  lifestyle—partly modeled after that of Western youth—and, of course, through their appearance.  Like the Teddy Boys, the Stilyagi were obsessed with fashion and used their flashy, provocative  appearance as a form of social defiance against society. But while the British were aggressive  representatives of the working class, often forming criminal gangs, for the Stilyagi—children  of the intelligentsia—shocking behavior was a form of spiritual liberation, not street violence.  In fact, they posed no real threat to the Soviet state—like, really, if they wanted to dance,  let them dance rock ’n’ roll; that was all they needed. They weren’t interested in political  games; they simply admired the glamour of the Western lifestyle. But… things didn't work that  way in the USSR. To be considered anti-Soviet in the Union, you didn't need to criticize the  system—it was enough simply not to support it. By the very fact of their existence, the  stilyagi defied the Soviet norm. From childhood, the values of collectivism had been imposed  on them, yet they spoke about the freedom of individuality. They were told that the  spiritual was superior to the material, yet they could spend half their lives chasing  after fancy clothes. They were taught that everything foreign was bad—yet they looked to  the West with admiration and eagerly absorbed whatever aspects of the Western lifestyle were  available to them: music, hairstyles, and fashion.

[00:08:06]It’s important to remember that the stilyagi  lived in an environment of limited information and shortages, so their idea of the West was  a sort of “reconstruction of a non-existent dream,” drawn from the music, books, and  films that had made their way through the Iron Curtain. Cinema became the main window to  the “outside world” for the stilyagi. And you won’t believe who their first role model was:  Johnny Weissmuller—specifically, his portrayal of Tarzan. These were the first Tarzan films,  made before the war, in black and white; there was no jazz or bright clothes in them, but there  was the appealing image of a young, athletic man with long hair—a sort of “lion’s mane” swept back.  Then came *Sun Valley Serenade*: it soundtrack’s “Chattanooga Choo Choo” (“Chucha”) became the  anthem of a subculture, and the images of the musicians from the film became the benchmark  for style. And then there were “The Roaring Twenties,” “The Woman of My Dreams,” “Let George  Do It!,” as well as films starring Deanna Durbin.

[00:09:06]Of course, the stilyagi didn’t listen to  Soviet music either. American jazz and boogie-woogie were highly respected. They were  broadcast on “Voice of America” and the BBC, as well as via “music on bones.” That’s what  they called homemade records made using X-rays, onto which trendy Western tunes—Elvis Presley,  Bill Haley, Duke Ellington—were recorded.

[00:09:29]These records were distributed and played  underground, in the hope that law-abiding neighbors wouldn’t call the police to their  apartment. Soviet dances didn’t really go with jazz and boogie-woogie either, so even the  moves were copied from across the ocean. It was not uncommon for stilyagi who performed these  dances to be kicked out of public dance halls.

[00:09:49]But it’s obvious that it was hard to look like  Tarzan and dance jazz while wearing typical Soviet work clothes. And there was hardly any  other option. To emulate real trendsetters from the West, Soviet hipsters had to resort to all  sorts of tricks. For example, after World War II, soldiers returned from Europe with huge quantities  of Western clothing, shoes, and magazines. These items—which had often already gone out of style  in the West—became the foundation of the very first stilyagi’s wardrobes. At flea markets,  one could find German suits, Tyrolean shorts, and Hungarian coats, which the stilyagi altered  to suit their own tastes. The subculture spread mainly in the country’s major cities; it was  rare to encounter a stilyaga from a village or a remote provincial town. He simply wouldn’t have  had the opportunity to have something tailored for himself that would even remotely allow him to  “fit in” among the stilyagi. Although, again, there was no such thing as a typical, standardized  Stilyaga look. I mean I guess there was, there were those who first saw the stilyagi in  caricatures, were impressed by these exaggerated, flashy “rooster-like” outfits, and  began to i mitate them. But most often, these were young people in small towns, where  access to foreign films and magazines was limited. It is precisely from Soviet cartoons  that the classic stilyaga look originated: tapered pants and jackets with exaggeratedly  broad shoulders. And all of this—in bright colors. In reality, things were usually a bit more  subdued—it was simply that while the working class wore loose pants, the fashionable stilyagi guys  wore slim-fit ones. Shirts with broad shoulders, cane umbrellas, and bright ties added a touch of  audacity to the look. Girls from this subculture usually wore form-fitting American-style dresses,  tight short skirts, and pantsuits. The stilyagi sported rather distinctive hairstyles. The  guys wore what was known as a “kock” (yes, you heard that right—a kock)—voluminously lifted  hair—while the girls curled their hair or styled it in high updos. Another important detail in the  style of the female stilyagi was red lipstick, which was bound to provoke a storm of  condemnation among conservative Soviet women.

[00:12:12]Any hipsters, of course, set themselves apart  not only from the “gray masses”—which is understandable—but also from the “posers.” Status  among the “styliags” was determined by how rare and authentic your clothes were. Of course, you  could always just throw on a baggy double-breasted jacket, a wide-brimmed hat, bright socks, and  pointed-toe boots with thick soles, but did that make you “stylish”? No, it made you look like  a clown. That’s why less flashy but brand-name Western items were especially prized… Who could  get their hands on those? Either members of the “golden youth,” who had the opportunity to travel  abroad, or sailors on international trips. They were the ones who supplied the vast black market  with all kinds of Western goods—the phenomenon known as Fartsovka. Thanks to this hierarchy of  rarity among stilyagi, there was also a narrower subculture of “Shtatniks”: they wore only what  was made in the States. And here’s the problem: if you want to be a “Shtatnik,” you can’t just  sew yourself a pair of Levi’s jeans out of a trophy German uniform. There’s no fabric like  that in the Soviet Union, and no one knows how to sew them that way. And even if they did, the  whole point is the brand. So there’s no way you, ordinary Vasya from Saratov, could be a  “Stattnik.” Unless, somehow, you managed to track down some black-market dealers and buy a genuine  pair of Levi’s from them for ten times the price.

[00:13:42]But finding the right clothes wasn’t  enough—you had to know how to wear them.

[00:13:48]The stilyagi had a distinctive way of moving  that was described as “exceptionally brazen.”

[00:13:54]Many believed that their heads held high and  their loose gait indicated their arrogance and contempt for everything Soviet. In reality, their  fashionable, sky-high “manna porridge” boots were simply difficult to walk in, which is why they  moved in such a peculiar way. In the evenings, stilyagi from different cities would stroll  along “Broadway”—usually the city’s main street (Gorky Street in Moscow, Nevsky Prospect in  Leningrad)—to show off their outfits to everyone, and then head to a disco or someone’s place  to sip wine through a straw. The stilyagi’s distinctive slang consisted of English  loanwords adapted to Russian, combined with elements of musician slang—chuvak (person),  khilat’ (to stroll), drinkat’ (to drink), and lukat’ (to look). Stylagi even adopted  foreign names that sounded similar to their real Russian ones. Which, of course,  infuriated the “normies” around them.

[00:14:48]But you have to understand that there was no  legal basis for persecuting the stilyagi—you can’t imprison or execute someone (yes, even in  the Soviet Union of the 1950s) just for dressing flashily and dancing to American jazz. Sure,  if they were caught smuggling goods or getting into a fight on the dance floor, they could be  arrested, but you had to catch them doing that first. So the authorities fought the stilyagi  in other ways—through mockery and condemnation.

[00:15:17]“Today you’re playing jazz, and tomorrow you’ll  sell out your motherland.” The magazine *Krokodil* and wall newspapers regularly published satirical  pieces and caricatures portraying stilyagi as ignorant and vain potential traitors. Stilyagi  were summoned to Komsomol and student meetings, where they were publicly shamed and forced  to “reform” and renounce their lifestyle.

[00:15:40]It was not uncommon for such young people to  be expelled from university; even more often, they were expelled from the Komsomol, which meant  the end of any serious career. It wasn't usually just because of their stylish appearance—they  would typically find another justification (like a fight at a disco), and being a “Stilyaga”  was considered an aggravating factor. And the physical violence I mentioned at the beginning did  happen—but more as an anomaly. “Excesses at the local level.” There were instances of vigilantes  forcibly cutting people’s hair and slitting their pants. But attacking a Soviet citizen with  scissors—well, that really wasn’t nice. Also, contrary to a well-known myth, stilyagi actually  couldn’t be jailed for social parasitism. Yes, many stilyagi didn’t want to “waste their  lives at a machine,” but the law against parasitism—which in the USSR was punishable  by up to imprisonment—didn’t appear until 1961. And formally speaking, most stilyagi  were actually either working or studying.

[00:16:44]Do you know what actually put an end to  this subculture? My favorite Soviet leader, Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev. Legend  has it that one day in the late 1950s, at yet another important Party meeting, Khrushchev  asked, “Why do we wear such wide pants? It’s a waste of fabric! Let’s make them narrower.”  And men’s pants at the turn of the 1950s and 1960s did indeed become narrower—primarily  for economic reasons, but also because it had already become an established fashion trend.  And since everyone was wearing slim-fit pants, it was no longer possible to stand out that way,  so the stilyagi subculture lost all its meaning.

[00:17:26]But seriously, the stilyagi did indeed begin to  gradually disappear altogether as a phenomenon during the “Khrushchev Thaw.” Previously  forbidden elements—jazz, rock ’n’ roll, and Western clothing styles—began to slowly  become more "legalized" and mainstream.

[00:17:42]Dressing fashionably was no longer considered  a sign of bourgeoisie or something undignified; the strict imposition of ideology began  to ease little by little in the country, and people began to treat those who were  “different” with more leniency. Finally, the first generation of stilyagi simply grew up. Many  of them became successful artists, filmmakers, and musicians (such as jazz musician Alexei  Kozlov or writer Vasily Aksyonov), integrating into the official or semi-official culture of  the Sixtiers. The stilyagi faded away, as all subcultures do sooner or later. But they certainly  left a very vivid mark on Soviet history.