|
From Soviet
leaders to high society icons, a Russian fur coat was once seen
as a desirable status symbol. But as Russians increasingly favor
foreign imports, the Pushkino fur farm near Moscow is barely
surviving.
From
Soviet leaders to high society icons, a Russian fur coat was
once seen as a desirable status symbol. But as Russians
increasingly favor foreign imports, the Pushkino fur farm near
Moscow is barely surviving.
The
problems of Russia's fur industry are unrelated to ethical
scruples of the kind that have put the industry under pressure
in the West. It is the sector's inability to keep up with
Western brands since the collapse of communism that is the real
problem, observers say.
The farm
at Pushkino was once the most celebrated in the Soviet Union.
But a glance at its run-down buildings shows how far things have
slipped.
"When I
came here a year-and-a-half ago I was shocked," said Nikolai
Yumanshev, a former space industry official recently installed
as chief executive.
Yumanshev was brought in when the farm was bought by an
energetic young millionaire, Denis Lavrov. It had already
declared bankruptcy.
Even
now, dealing with a legacy of neglect left by the previous state
management is proving an uphill task.
The
animals at the farm
were |
underfed, the mothers were giving birth to fewer and fewer
offspring and the quality of the pelts had suffered.
"The
water supply system, the electricity, the buildings, the heating
system were all rotten," he said.
The
picture is similar or worse throughout what remains of Russia's
fur industry.
Of the
300 Russian fur farms that once provided 30 percent of world
output, around 20 remain. Pushkino is one of just four left in
the Moscow region.
"All the
fur farms are closing, one after the other. We can't compete
with China and Denmark," Pushkino's technical director, Vladimir
Kudryavtsev, complained.
"China
has taken over the fur market as far west as the Urals and Greek
producers sell us poor quality items made from pelts that they
buy here," the head of Pushkino's sewing workshop, Alexander
Isayev, said.
Officials at Pushkino say they are gradually getting their farm
back on track.
It now
produces 100,000 pelts per year, including blue and silver fox,
mink and sable -- the latter a Russian speciality. Pushkino
claims to produce half of all sable -- sable coats fetching as
much as 150,000 dollars (130,000 euros). |
Nonetheless, the
buildings remain in disarray and the company appears reluctant to copy
Western fashion techniques, such as stretching pelts by machine to create a
lighter fabric.
Yumanshev says there
is still a market for more traditional heavier coats in a harsh climate like
Russia's.
"In Europe, women
wear furs like jewellery. They are beautiful of course, but in Russia the
fur has to be thick and warm -- it's essential," he said. "We work by
traditional methods here."
The problems of the
company have more to do with the specifics of the Russian business
environment, he insists.
These include the
enormous size of the country it sells its products in and the farm's
distance from the sea. The latter raises the cost of bringing in fish -- an
important part of the animals' diet.
There are also
difficulties intrinsic to the business, such as the fact that vixen are
fertile for just three days per year.
But the biggest
problem is the inefficient state bureaucracy.
Yumanshev says he
spends much of his time battling local officials in order to obtain licenses
and avoid fines for imaginary offenses. "We get the impression the state is
trying to destroy this profession," Kudryavtsev said. |
