MOSCOW -- A defining moment in today's Russia comes shortly after midnight. That's when local programming goes off and television stations begin airing a show called "Armchair Shopping."
It may not be as frantic as American home-shopping programs. But the pitch and merchandise offered are no different.
Welcome to post-Communist Moscow! If the drab Soviet Union was one extreme, today's highly commercialized atmosphere seems to be another one.
Stores are full of necessity items and luxury goods that Russians have long starved for. But except for vodka, hardly anything appears to have been produced in Russia. Instead people with expandable income eat at such temples of American consumerism as McDonald's, KFC and Pizza Hut and read Russian editions of Playboy, Penthouse, Good Housekeeping -- and Soldier of Fortune.
A street vendor even peddled watches that had an outline of the United States on the dial and this legend (in English): "The Land of Promise."
Can this bacchanalia last?
Probably not. Many political experts predict that the new Communist Party of the Russian Federation will benefit from a backlash in December's parliamentary election. They say it may even take the majority of 300 seats in the State Duma, the lower house, with other left-wing parties.
While many young people like the new system's values and hucksterism -- codified in such television programs as "Twin Peaks," "Dynasty" and "Baywatch" -- older people tend to have more reservations, particularly retirees and others on fixed incomes.
The gap between the newly rich and the poor is huge and growing. When Hugo Boss opened its first store in Russia, it featured $3,000 sealskin overcoats and $2,464 sheepskin jackets. More than 400 shoppers crowded the boutique the first day, spending money as if there were no tomorrow.
"If a person has the means, he will certainly dress up," the German store's manager explained. "Maybe he won't have his own apartment or house, but he must have a car and clothes."
It's only money
Many of the newly rich are bribe-takers or on the fringes of organized crime. To this crowd, money seems to have little real value. Cover charges at several Moscow nightclubs exceed $100 (in dollars, please) and the city's top prostitutes are said to demand $3,000 a night. When the Clinton administration recently announced plans for a new design for $100 bills, the biggest concern was voiced by the Russian government, which feared old bills might become worthless.
