Now you may think that fashion and the Soviet Union go together like Groucho Marks and Friedrich Engels. However that is to misunderstand the nature of the Commad Economy: if she commands it, you'd better buy it for her.
So there is a rich history of fashion and fun (along with the tractor factories and endless ballet performances) in the old USSR. Let's take a sashay along it...
At the start of the Soviet years women's fashion, let's face it, tended towards the functional. Red was popular, as were headscarves, sensible boots and the ability to field strip a 3-line rifle.
But all that was about to change...
...because Russia had a new fashionista in charge: Stalin! He hated the peasant look of War Communism because it made socialism seem synonymous with poverty. He ordered Soviet Woman to spruce herself up.
And what Stalin wants, Stalin gets. Sort of. Certainly the apparatchiks of the 1930s were given a taste of graceful modernism: tailored jackets in fetching colours etc....
...but for the lumpenproletariat it was still all headscarves and hobnail boots. Uncle Jo's five year plan of fashion was strictly for the aristocracy of labour.
Khrushchev was having none of it. The socialist republic would hold it's head high, and compete on equal terms with the Western divisions of Dior and Chanel. A floaty skirt, a cigarette pant and a working refrigerator would be the inalienable right of every Soviet woman.
But there would be rules: chasing fashion trends was out, timeless classics were in. A well cut dress should last a lifetime, and would probably have to.
So what was the 'Soviet Look'? Well it wasn't headscarves: they were relics of the bad old years, suitable only for children and babushkas. You could wear a headband at a pinch, but only if you had the cheekbones to carry it off.
No, what Soviet Woman really wanted was a beret! French style or Basque style, it didn't matter. What mattered was paring it with a well cut blazer and a knee length skirt.
A good coat was obligatory in the USSR: in patriotic colours or simple herringbone, belted and buttoned to the neck. Hoods were good, but collars were never popped.
The ladies of Leningrad would also need a rollneck sweater or two. It was the quintessential knitwear statement of the modern Soviet woman.
And speaking of knitwear... big funky knits became a Warsaw Pact classic in the 1980s: the brighter the yarn the more fashion forward the wearer.
The Russian cut was generous. Lots of material demonstrated the plentitude that collective planning bestowed upon the people. Plus it can get windy round the Urals so plenty of heavy wool was a godsend.
As the years rolled by, as detente came and went, the practical nature of Soviet womenswear adopted to the times...
...and by the end of the Cold War Soviet fashion had fully collided with its Western counterparts. In its own way.
So here's to the fabulous fashionable ladies of the late CCCP. Whatever the weather - and it was mostly cold - they would strut their collective stuff as boldly as they could!
Today in pulp... Blade Runner! Let's look back at the classic 1982 movie and see how it compares to original novel.
"It's not an easy thing to meet your maker..."
Blade Runner is based on Philip K. Dick's 1968 novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? However 'inspired' may be a better word, as the film is very different to the book.
In the novel Deckard is a bounty hunter for the San Francisco police. The year is 1992; Earth has been ravaged by war and humans are moving to off-world colonies to protect their genetic integrity. They are given organic robots to help them, created by the Rosen Association.
Today in pulp I try to discover what the Bra Of The Future will look like... courtesy of Thrilling Wonder Stories!
Ever since the dawn of time Man has pondered the bra. What will it be like in the future? Will it even be needed?
And one magazine did more pondering than most. Thrilling Wonder Stories not only probed the mysteries of the future, it also tried to guess the evolution of the humble brassiere.
"The gun is GOOD! The Penis is EVIL!" bellows a huge stone head floating over the Irish countryside. It's quite a strange start to any film, but it's about to get even stranger.
This is the story of John Boorman's 1974 sci-fi spectacular Zardoz...
In 1970 director John Boorman began work on a Lord Of The Rings film for United Artists. It would be an unusual adaption; The Beatles would be the Hobbits and Kabuki theatre would open the movie. Alas the studio said 'No', but the idea of making a fantasy film stuck with Boorman.
So in 1972, following the commercial success of Deliverance, John Boorman started work on Zardoz - a fantasy film into which he would cram many unorthodox ideas. Initially Burt Reynolds was to play the lead role of Zed, but pulled out citing other filming commitments.