What's in a tie?

The Nobel laureate IVAN BUNIN, the revered “last classic” writer of Russian literature, was also an indisputably classic dresser epitomising Russian elegance. According to his contemporaries, he never tired of boasting about his green Shanks tie (which was immortalised in Vladimir Rossinski’s portrait of the writer). His very short story The Love Affair of a Hunchback (1930) is an ode to elegance in which “a new tie (gray with glints of red to match his suit)” is one of the main characters.

After the Crimean War, LEO TOLSTOY gladly exchanged his artilleryman’s uniform for tails and a white tie but during his long life, the tie and tails would give way to the peasant shirt and boots (which this count would wear with no less showiness) He lived to see certain of his admirers worship him as their idol, while others, who were more enterprising, began producing “Leo Tolstoy” cologne, candy, cigarettes, and, neckties with his portrait. // Content for this slideshow was provided by ZEWIN. For more interesting stories of famous Russians and their neckwear, visit Zewin.ru

The creator of the classic fictional dandy Eugene Onegin, was possibly a dandy himself. But unlike his creation, a dandy of the Beau Brummell type, ALEXANDER PUSHKIN's dandyism was closer to that of the athletic knights of the Tattersall. A lover of horse riding, a good shot, and an able “English boxer”, he often appeared oddly, if not vulgarly dressed, bandying coarse language about, berating his fellow poets for using foreign words in their Russian. At the same time, Pushkin was perfectly capable of making a refined entrance dressed to the envy of other Petersburg fops.

ANDREI MIRONOV, the most charming actor in Russian films of the 1970s and ‘80s, is impossible to imagine without a necktie. In the comedy Unbelievable Adventures of Italians in Russia , few viewers noticed how many different ties the hero managed to wear in the course of a mere two hours.

In any sphere of activity, the ability to dress in conformity with the time and place is a sign of professionalism but, for a spy, such professionalism can be a matter of life and death. Illustrious Soviet agent Gordon Lonsdale, known in real life as KONON MOLODY, devoted many pages of his memoir about work in London to clothes. Molody wrote: “The clothes of a spy do not always represent his real self… I never liked bright or loud clothes, but that did not mean that I didn’t keep up with the latest fashions or did not devote proper attention to my clothes.”

Winner of the Nobel Prize in Physics, Fellow of the Royal Society in London, student and friend of Ernest Rutherford (who won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry), PYOTR KAPITSA was in every way an unusual man. His contemporaries often recalled his trademark style — a tie and a checked shirt (known in Russia as a cowboy shirt).

For centuries London has been a city of seething passions where secret agents from the world over carry on a secret competition to the delight of the tabloids and Savile Row. In the mid-twentieth century the stakes in this game were high, and the players were required to be exceedingly well prepared. The ability to wear a smoking jacket and a bow tie correctly was valued almost more than good marksmanship. Naval attaché and military spy EVGENY IVANOV said won fame as a successful agent, in London as a man-about-town.

“We deem it essential that the Soviet government present Major YURI GAGARIN with… 12 handkerchiefs… and 6 neckties.” From a secret directive of the Soviet Council of Ministers, April 18, 1961.

In his youth, FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY was a fan of Balzac and probably dreamed of having, as Balzac did, “as many waistcoats as there were days in the year”. However, his arrest, sham trial, hard labour, exile and grey military greatcoat left their mark. A friend and keeper of many of Dostoyevsky’s secrets, Baron Wrangel described the writer’s return after many years to civilian clothes: “…a top-notch fop. For the first time he took off his military greatcoat and arrayed himself in a frockcoat… grey trousers of mine, a waistcoat and a high, starched stand-up collar.

PYOTR CHAADAYEV was a philosopher and social critic, a hero of the Napoleonic wars and a friend of Pushkin. But more than that, Chaadayev was also 19th Century Russia’s Number One dandy, a man who, in the words of his friend and biographer Mikhail Zhikharev, “raised the art of dressing… almost to the level of historical significance.”

Vladimir Mayakovsky described the transformation of his fellow poet SERGEI ESENIN's art through the transformation of his image: “The first time I met him, he was wearing bast shoes and a peasant shirt embroidered in cross-stitch….I didn’t meet him again properly until after the revolution. With all my innate tactlessness I immediately began shouting: ‘Esenin! You’re wearing a jacket and tie!’

Symbols of taste and style are not only the preserve of real people – sometimes they are part of the personality of literary characters, heroes of movies and even cartoons. CAPTAIN BOLDYREV in the cartoon “The Adventures of Vasya Kurolesov,” a 1981 adaptation of Yury Koval’s children’s book by the same name, is the most elegant detective in the entire history of the Soviet police.

MSTISLAV ROSTROPOVICH was described by contemporaries as being a very unpretentious man in everyday life. To him the best present, according to his daughter Olga Rostropovich, was a new tie, especially one given to him by his beloved wife Galina Vishnevskaya. According to family legend, when they were first courting, the young musician changed ties three times a day in the hope of making an impression. Over time, Rostropovich amassed a large collection of halstuch – a type of cravat.

Poet JOSEPH BRODSKY looked natural and elegant wearing both a tailcoat as a Nobel laureate and an old padded jacket as an exile. Brodsky’s attitude toward ties changed over the years. In some periods of his life he wore a tie nearly every day, while in other periods, he ignored ties altogether. One of the key characters in his poem “Zofya,” written in the spring of 1962, is a necktie.

Russian poet and Nobel laureate BORIS PASTERNAK was a master of the art of tying a tie. It is no accident that one of the relics of Russian literature is the tie that Pasternak wore when he attended a banquet at the Swedish Embassy in Moscow in honor of his winning the Nobel Prize. After his death, Pasternak’s tie was saved by a friend. Nearly 30 years later, on the eve of the Nobel Prize awards ceremony in Stockholm, it was presented to the newest laureate, Joseph Brodsky.

The numerous portraits and photographs of VLADIMIR MAYAKOVSKY are testament to his love of neckpieces, showing him wearing ties of every possible pattern and color. Mayakovsky’s tie collection was famous while he was still alive. As one would expect from a poet, Mayakovsky could describe his dress style much better than anyone else: “The most noticeable and beautiful thing about a person is his tie. And, obviously, the bigger the tie, the greater the effect.”

In VLADIMIR LENIN, Russia can claim a man whose favorite type of tie is known to millions of people the world over. Judging by the many photographs of him, he was always in tune with fashion trends. The button-down shirt may have been invented by Brooks Brothers, but the fashion for wearing it began with Lenin. From 1918 onwards, he was regularly photographed in a button-down shirt. And although he died in 1924, the state of his necktie and haircut is still monitored by the very best masters of their craft.

In their reminiscences of the great Russian bass player FYODOR CHALIAPIN, his contemporaries often mention his passion for the company of women, an excellent dinner and elegant clothes – a passion that may have begun when he was a young man in Tbilisi and several of his students banded together and bought him a new tie and a gold pin.

The great Russian playwright and short-story writer ANTON CHEKHOV took enormous care with his appearance. His sense of style attracted many comments. Journalist Vyacheslav Fausek recalled Chekhov “with a shoestring in place of a tie;” scholar Grigory Rossolimo remembered him “in a tie tied like a bow.” His doctor, I.N. Altshuller, said, “He was always very simply, but neatly dressed. I never found him, either morning or late at night, casually dressed, without a collar and tie.”