This article first appeared in The eXile on June 1, 2007

For months now, our overseas readers have been asking us, “What’s a gopnik?” They have a vague idea of what a gopnik looks like, thanks to our Face Control page: tough Russian dudes with bad skin and blank fuck-if-I-care expressions. They’re the guys who look more comfortable squatting than standing. But more than anything else, they’re the last males on planet earth who can get away with wearing those 20s-style leather gangster caps without looking like drama school fags rehearsing for a musical. (more…)

Today, we sifted through a buttloads of your fan letters and picked the first ones that floated to the top, including three letters from Iranian terrorists, a knee-scraping nightlife tool from Moscow, another cheap-ass reader, and much, much less… (more…)

Some time ago I was having lunch on the veranda at Moscow’s fancy Simachev Bar with my friend Alexei. He recently became the editor-in-chief of a high-end glossy magazine. We were having lunch and discussing my career options when I realized Alexei didn’t think I had any.

“I think you should just marry an oligarch,” he said. (more…)