Clothing in the USSR

Many of us today recall our Soviet childhood, youth, or adulthood with genuine warmth. Each of us has our own past. But there’s something we all share—the kind and bright feelings that arise when thinking about that era. My parents were born in the USSR, and so were my sisters and I. The difference is that my parents' youth fell in the 1970s, while my sisters and I grew up in the 1990s and 2000s. Each decade of the Soviet era is characterized by its own clothing style, based on individual circumstances.

We all remember the words "shortages" and "stagnation." These are the terms used to describe the Soviet period. But despite the negative impact of these phenomena, our Russian people, as always in difficult situations, found a way out. Many knew how to sew and knit, alter and re-face ready-made clothes. This could create a new dress or skirt.

Today, we are treated to a vast selection of fabrics, clothing, and shoes—all of which were unavailable in such a wide range during the Soviet era. Finding a good item required considerable effort. I vividly remember how my mother dressed in the 1980s. She was a teacher at a music school back then. I often picture her in a beautiful bright red suit. The quality was astonishing: wrinkle-free fabric, perfect stitching and lining, and the buttons were simply fantastic! She also wore a beautiful white blouse with a delicate bow at the chest. And then there were the Yugoslav gray-and-white combination high-heeled shoes. My mother also had a deep purple dress with a pleated skirt. It was long, with an English collar, very elegant and striking. She always pinned a beautiful brooch to the lapel. Dresses with finely pleated skirts were common among my mother’s friends and colleagues back then. But history hasn’t revealed how much effort each of them had to put into acquiring them.

To get something unusual, and most importantly, the only one in town, you had to travel abroad. This option was available to only a few; most were content to buy such items secondhand or at a consignment store. If someone was planning a trip to Moscow, Leningrad, or the Baltics, they would invariably travel with a long wish list of relatives and friends. This is how children and adults alike ended up with jeans that were exactly the same style. One friend of mine told me that his parents shared the same pair of jeans, taking turns. I vividly remember how my cousin’s jeans were held up with suspenders until he grew to the right size.

When we think of Soviet-era stores, the first thing that comes to mind are neat rows of identical dresses, robes, coats, and blouses. All this opulence was arranged precisely by size on shelves and hangers. Amazingly, the sizes were so precise that even men could easily bring clothes back from business trips for their wives, mothers, and sisters. And they fit perfectly. My grandmother often told me how my grandfather would bring her gifts from Moscow: a new gray gabardine raincoat, a brown formal suit, or a crepe de Chine dress. Trying on these things, I was amazed at the precision and accuracy of Soviet technologists and designers. A universal sizing grid ensured that every dart was in its proper place. Amazingly, in today’s world of computer technology, only a few manufacturers achieve such precision.

As for colors, solid tones often dominated workwear. Housecoats and dresses, on the other hand, tended to feature florals and paisley prints (a very fashionable and popular pattern). The robes were very comfortable and cozy, especially those made of flannel. A full second shift awaited a woman at home after work: laundry, cooking, ironing, and cleaning, without the modern conveniences of washing machines and multi-cookers. Therefore, the practicality and comfort of Soviet home clothes can be given a solid A. Light summer dresses were mostly reminiscent of robes in color, but everyone wore them, so this fact was not surprising in the USSR.

The hardest thing to find in the USSR was good underwear or tights. These items of a woman’s wardrobe were the most cherished, yet elusive, dream of any Soviet woman.

A traditional men’s clothing set consisted of the following items: a tank top, underwear, socks, tights or tracksuit, trousers or a suit, a shirt, and a raincoat. This standard set was complemented by a cap or hat of choice.

The lucky ones also had jeans in addition to trousers, and on special occasions, they wore sweatshirts or polo shirts in addition to shirts. If the jeans and polo shirts were paired with a short zipped jacket and sneakers from Czechoslovakia or the GDR, the fashionable man would immediately attract increased attention and become an eligible bachelor.

When looking through old photos or films from the Soviet era, we naturally notice how people dressed back then. But the simplicity and modesty of their attire is overshadowed by the genuine joy of the people. Surprisingly, today you often hear in conversations that many would gladly trade the current abundance of mass-market stores for the limited selection of a Soviet department store, and a fashionable, expensive dress from some couturier for a simple polka-dot cotton dress.