I am glad that I was born and raised during the end of one century and the beginning of another. I had an opportunity to witness all the preciousness of the Soviet epoch and transition into adult life already with all the pleasures of established capitalism present. I can still recall the red pioneer tie and a Lenin badge, the curfew, first Snickers with Coca-Cola, and even the first Nike Air Max (do you remember that those were launched in 1987?) On the “baby”, as Malaya Dorogomilovskaya Street was called, I was known as a great fashionista.
The first trips to Berlin and Paris dispelled all the juvenile illusions. Back then, I had no idea who Karin Roitfeld was, and moreover, I had never
heard about her daughter, Julia — she was probably just born. And now this stylish family forms the consciousness of the entire generation: what an incredible mom & daughter pair.
In my childhood, this bright image was supported by the sex symbols of the Soviet stage, Edita Piekha and the unprepossessing Ilona Bronevitskaya. In the same row — the unfading Alla Pugacheva with Kristina Orbakaite, who back then was utterly in love with Vladimir Presnyakov. Nevertheless, the insipid Bee Shaffer is unlikely to ever reach the success level of her legendary business mother, Anna Wintour; Bee lacks charisma.
In the new Russia, mothers and daughters have no one to look up to — no strong pairs have appeared yet. Well, with rare exceptions. As a rule, the relationship between the older and younger generations is complex. Either according to Freud, or according to the ideology of the Soviet Union, but Russian mothers are more attached to their sons.
Moreover, their love is so powerful — and therefore destructive — that it makes young men “crippled”. Mother and son are a different story altogether. Perhaps, I will talk about this next time.
What Russian woman did not have to do just to fight for a man? This “product” has always been in a terrible shortage — it would be easier to find the perfect leather boots. The battle for one’s man is our national sport. As a result, women secretly (and some very obviously) dislike each other, and even, God forgive me, their own daughters. By being deprived of the daily portion of male attention, these ladies are inclined to elevate sons into a cult, and treat daughters condescendingly or, worse, with a sense of irony.
It’s horrifying to say, but many mothers can tell immediately that they are loners: callous, angry, ugly. At times, it happens that I encounter our Russian professional models in New York — true beauties, accomplished stars. Although when I see their parents, my heart bleeds: unkempt hands, dull eyes, and a pale face. Some even have a mole the size of a cheek. Why would a model-daughter doesn’t help
her mother change her appearance for the better? For the very least — remove the mole!
Lack of love, not unconditional childlike, but masculine love, makes a woman inferior. Motherhood may make a woman happy, yet not always beautiful.
Life is easier for families that are complete, however, terrible things happen there too: when the mother suppresses the father and takes all the matter into her own hands, a senseless and merciless matriarchy begins.
Adolescence is a challenging period for both mothers and daughters. Psychologists have an explanation for this: young people enter into an unspoken competition with their elders, and the latter do not really know how to react to it. It is difficult for an adult woman to admit that her baby girl may present her own opinion (in fact, it is difficult for some women to even admit that their husband has his own opinion too). And not merely an opinion on life, but also about the woman herself.
Furthermore, such an opinion might not always be the pleasant one. Adolescent girls might even build up contempt over the years for their mothers. Some girls start to feel irritated and act out, while others remain in silence — after all, no one can choose who their parents are. It is time to confess — how many times have you condemned your mother either out loud or in your head? Exactly.
Multiple of Russian celebrities admitted that they had a difficult relationship with their influential, domineering mothers. Some of my friends felt love and hate for their mama at the same time. Even a Hollywood prodigy, Jennifer Aniston, has not communicated with her mother for twenty years.
One might wonder, what can separate the two closest people on Earth?
A common complaint of the younger generation is the lack of attention, love and warmth in childhood. Adult daughters, who are my age,
cannot forgive their mothers for coldness and distance. The elders are accused: the offspring claims, “you didn’t provide any affection, so I couldn’t learn how to love.” Although their parents did love them!
Nonetheless, many people remember the image of the tough Soviet mother-heroine. To take care of a child tenderly was simply not acceptable. However, to point out a child’s flaws has always been a part of the culture. Not necessarily out of spite, but rather out of fatigue — life was harsh. The mean remarks from not the most sensitive mothers, caused various insecurities in their daughters. Yes, we were fat, sloppy, and stupid. However, is it really necessary to constantly remind us of this? At eight years old, the last thing I wanted to hear was reproaches: I dreamed of eating candies like “Bear in the North” or “Bird’s Milk”. But no: “You will become fat!”
Mom’s daughters were also given such a perspective: “If you behave this way, no one would ever marry you!” It sounds like a serious threat, doesn’t it? To be urgently called down the aisle, I had to take up kitchen knives, an iron, a thread with a needle, and a mop for only these skills that measured the “goodness” of a wife. Is it so important now, in our adult life, to be able to hem pants? Nope. Our mom also used to say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I have not met a single businessman who would love his woman only for impeccably cooked pilaf.
Eh, mothers, mothers… It would be better to drum into our heads three foreign languages, the rules of good manners, a sense of tact, and elementary laws of style. Probably though, our moms did not have such an opportunity. Yet, there was hope: for mothers — for their daughters to marry successfully, for daughters — to escape, but quickly.
Thank God, this is in the past. A new generation has grown up in the prosperous 2000s during a free market and the period of prosperity. I observe some celebrity-mothers with particular pleasure. It’s great that they had children early, because it’s pure joy to be young and have grown-up daughters.
At times though, the Soviet moms — with all their Soviet vestiges and the terrible nomenclature luggage — get invited on board to a yacht, which the daughter, husband and offspring like to drive from the pier in Monte Carlo to Cannes and back. Longing for the hippie Koktebel-78 and cork platforms, mamas, without any sense of excitement, pick physalis and sweetly ask the steward for some cottage cheese.
However, there is no cottage cheese. Or kefir. And how to explain that at her age, kefir is not only not useful, but even harmful? Just how?
In an attempt to cheer up the disappointed mother, the daughter orders a tender to get to Cote d’Azur. Lo and behold, the parent has cheered up and returned aboard with rustling bags. No one is forgotten, nothing is forgotten: gifts are provided for both poor relatives, and slightly less fortunate daughters, and a son, and their offspring. The wallet for Ninochka — a neighbor, with whom mama spent the long winter evenings in a two-bedroom apartment in the south-west of Moscow, over a Lipton cup with a nut cake — glistens with patent crocodile skin from one of the purchased boxes.
What a nightmare — a son-in-law does not let go of a cigar, and this is so unhealthy for the whole family! Yet, the children run around the decks and talk to each other in English. Ah, how nice would it be right now to tune the satellite and listen to the “New Wave”? However, the signal does not go through — all that’s left is to watch the battle between Chelsea and Tottenham. And what kind of people came to visit the yacht? Why feed them such an immense amount of food? It’s expensive! Why couldn’t they stay on their boats and eat dinner there, while watching their beloved Chelsea play soccer.
Of course, something needs to be done urgently. The food on the boat is too spicy — children shouldn’t eat it. Why not go to the galley while everyone is watching soccer, or teach a Filipino chef how to cook delicious borscht? Now, at the Mediterranean Sea, homemade soup
would be marvelous — everyone must have missed healthy eating. By the way, is there any buckwheat on board?
I once brought up the “mother-daughter” topic on Instagram. And when I did, I decided to praise my mother. Not because I love her endlessly. But because she causes sincere admiration, and not only for me. She does not resemble a typical Soviet parent, either externally or internally. I specifically focus on the word “Soviet” to indicate the type of women who were born and developed under Soviet conditions. At the end of the epochs, my mother could “ossify” too, but this, fortunately, did not happen — she quickly switched over and adjusted to the new regime. She has gone far ahead. In fact, many of her peers continue using curlers for their short hair, eat sandwiches with kolbasa at night, and dress “according to age” — in gray and shapeless.
Love is the only thing that can make a person better. Moms, love yourselves! There is nothing more magnificent and healthier than the latter approach for this is the mere way for everyone in the household to be happy and prosperous. Even without any buckwheat.
© Masha Lopatova