Dressing the part In wartime Russia, political elites are literally wearing their patriotism on their sleeves

Since launching its full-scale war against Ukraine, the Kremlin has demanded total loyalty from government officials. In response, many in the country’s political elite have remade their public image accordingly. Beards, traditional headdresses, and Stalin tunics have all become part of a new “patriotic style.” Meduza takes a closer look at the transformation.

Beards

Maxim Oreshkin, the former Russian economy minister and current deputy head of Putin’s administration, has long cultivated a neat and orderly image. He was always clean-shaven at official meetings. But in 2022, the bureaucrat’s style changed abruptly: Oreshkin grew a beard.

“Max is an overachiever. Traditionally, the unspoken dress code in the government and the presidential administration has always implied a clean shave — though, of course, with exceptions. That was more his style anyway,” an acquaintance of Oreshkin’s told Meduza. “But after the [full-scale] war began, he decided to go for more the rugged, frontline look. A beard, after all, means ‘Russian.’”

This new “patriotic style” was first adopted by Kremlin staff and political consultants close to the administration.

Andrey Polosin, a political strategist and close ally of Sergey Kiriyenko — the Kremlin’s domestic policy czar — had long worn a short, neatly trimmed beard paired with a trendy haircut. Two of his colleagues said Polosin always leaned into a laid-back look as part of his personal brand. “Andrey’s into rock music, he plays guitar. The stubble, the blazer with an open-collared shirt, no tie — these are all touches of rebellion,” one of them explained.

Until 2023, Polosin worked at Rosatom, Russia’s state-run nuclear energy corporation, where he headed the department for regional affairs. His appearance began to shift when he took charge of developing a new ideological course called “Fundamentals of Russian Statehood,” which is now mandatory for first-year college students across the country. (The course teaches, among other things, that Russia is a “civilization-state” and a “guarantor of human values and authentic development.”)

Polosin’s acquaintances said he decided to reinvent himself as an “eccentric professor.” The trim haircut gave way to long hair and the stubble grew into a full, bushy beard. These days, the “eccentric professor’s” look recalls the image of 19th-century Russian Slavophiles, who also wore beards and long hair. Polosin’s wardrobe now includes a three-piece suit. “It’s a character: the conservative thinker,” one acquaintance explained.

Not long after, another Kiriyenko ally and friend of Polosin’s, Alexander Kharichev — the head of the Kremlin’s team responsible for “monitoring social trends” — also grew a beard. After the start of the full-scale war, Kharichev began writing ideological articles aligned with Polosin’s college curriculum. (In one piece, the Kremlin — via Kharichev — declared for the first time that power in Russia is “sacred.”) “In their view, an ideologue should project gravitas,” said one acquaintance, commenting on Kharichev’s new facial hair. “Not look like a manager or a strategist.”

Sergey Tsivilev, the former governor of the Kemerovo region and current Russian energy minister, sensed the shift earlier than most of his colleagues: he started growing a beard back in 2021. Alongside Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov, he was one of the few regional heads who didn’t shave daily. At first, Tsivilev sported a short beard, which grew longer and then shorter again after the full-scale war began. According to a former official who worked with him in Kemerovo, the change in appearance came as Tsivilev “leaned more into the Orthodox theme.” (Indeed, the minister does try to visit churches when traveling through the regions.)

Anton Fedorov, the non-public-facing head of the Kremlin’s document management office, also grew a full beard. Sources who spoke with Meduza weren’t sure why, though one suggested he “may have seen other bearded guys and decided to follow suit.” Firdus Aliyev, director of the Kremlin think tank EISI, likewise began sporting a beard.

Two sources close to the presidential administration told Meduza that there are no official rules about facial hair for government officials. “Everyone does what feels right to them, but there’s definitely a growing urge to look more serious, more patriotic. Look who’s got beards: mostly ideologues, advisers, smart men. They’ve traditionally worn beards — even back in Soviet times,” one source said. Another added, “A beard is also a sign of age and calmness.”

At the same time, a former member of Putin’s administration noted that in the past, informal Kremlin etiquette didn’t allow for big, bushy beards: “A neatly trimmed one — sure, that could fly. But a full, heavy beard was a no go, unless you were someone really exceptional. Same goes for those in the Cabinet. But the State Duma or state corporations have always been more relaxed.”

Kokoshniks

After February 24, 2022, patriotic motifs began appearing in the wardrobes of female Russian lawmakers and government officials.

Ksenia Goryacheva, a State Duma deputy from the New People party, now attends every parliamentary session wearing a traditional Russian headdress called a kokoshnik — despite the fact that her party, though created with the Kremlin’s support, positions itself as liberal. According to a party insider, however, Goryacheva isn’t following political fashion but rather acting out of “personal conviction.”

“Ksenia started wearing kokoshniks regularly after Sobchak wrote a post about her. It was kind of a response,” the source said — apparently referring to a post in which Russian media personality Ksenia Sobchak commented on Goryacheva’s look, noting she was wearing a chunky Prada headband priced at around 400 euros (about $470).

Goryacheva’s collection now includes simple triangular kokoshniks as well as those adorned with the Swan Princess, foxes and cranes, mythical birds, children’s drawings, pearls, and even leopard print (though she doesn’t wear this one to the Duma).

Most of these headpieces are made by a small Russian brand called Moya Golova (“My Head”), which is known for its campaign in support of independent female journalists. The day after Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the brand posted a promotion on Instagram for its new collection, timed to coincide with the Maslenitsa holiday. The caption read: “Who’s the scariest in all of Rus’? […] An overseas agent.”

The women featured in the post were investigative journalists who’d been labeled “foreign agents” by the Russian government: Olga Churakova (of the project Hi, You’re a Foreign Agent), Ekaterina Fomina (TV Rain), and Irina Dolinina (iStories). The women appeared in black and hot-pink kokoshniks embroidered with the phrase “overseas agent.” Shortly after the start of the full-scale war, all three were forced to leave Russia as the State Duma enacted strict military censorship laws. In the spring of 2025, Fomina was sentenced in absentia to 8.5 years in prison for allegedly spreading “fake news” about the Russian army.

Twelve of the 15 members of the New People party — including Ksenia Goryacheva — voted in favor of that censorship law during its second reading.

In 2024, Goryacheva wrote on Instagram: “Getting a kokoshnik was a good idea. Now I feel strange without it.” She shared a photo of herself sitting in the Duma chamber, wearing a red kokoshnik headband, a long-sleeved linen dress, and a black apron with a pattern clearly inspired by Mezen folk painting.

Maria Lvova-Belova, the country’s children’s rights commissioner and the wife of Russian Orthodox media tycoon Konstantin Malofeev, also makes use of traditional patterns and the à la russe aesthetic. In June 2025, she appeared at a meeting with Vladimir Putin wearing a kokoshnik painted in the blue-and-white Gzhel style, along with a matching dress in a Slavic courtly style — complete with flowing sleeves, gathered at the wrist.

Lvova-Belova’s predecessor, Anna Kuznetsova, favored button-down shirts and a more conservative, understated style. (Kuznetsova’s devout religious views earned her the nickname Ombudsmatushka — a play on “ombudsman” and “matushka,” the traditional term for a priest’s wife.) In contrast, Lvova-Belova chooses light-colored, emphatically feminine dresses with floral patterns.

In 2023, the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for both Putin and Lvova-Belova, accusing them of unlawfully deporting children from occupied areas of Ukraine to Russian territory.

Military-style tunics

At the outset of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Dmitry Medvedev — the former president and prime minister once considered a liberal — reinvented himself as a Kremlin hardliner. From his Telegram channel, the Security Council deputy chairman now issues nuclear threats to the West, insults Ukrainian and European leaders, and calls for the war to continue until the “Banderite regime” is destroyed.

This transformation also extended to his wardrobe. Previously known for wearing suits, tracksuits, and muted business casual attire, Medvedev began appearing in distinctly different attire. Since 2023, he has been seen in at least three military-style tunics — garments unmistakably reminiscent of 20th-century dictators like Joseph Stalin, Mao Zedong, and Kim Il Sung.

Medvedev wore a black military tunic with burgundy buttons during a meeting in Grozny with Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov, who has long favored similar jackets. At the World Youth Festival in Sochi, Medvedev took the stage in a bright blue version with black buttons. And for a gathering with fellow members of the ruling United Russia party, he chose a navy one.

Before Medvedev’s wardrobe shift, military-style tunics were most closely associated with Russian propagandist Vladimir Solovyov, who once even commented on the resemblance between his style and that of historical dictators. “A lot of people are curious who makes my jackets. They suspect it’s Comrade Stalin’s tailor,” Solovyov said on camera, imitating the dictator’s voice as he took off his jacket to show a label with the name of an Austrian brand. “As far as I know, Comrade Stalin and Comrade Kim Il Sung are nowhere to be found. I’d even go so far as to say its [from] a European country. So let’s be careful with the comments, friends.”

After the full-scale war began, Solovyov switched to fleece jackets in camouflage colors — a style that, ironically, mirrors the wardrobe of Ukrainian rather than Russian officials, including President Volodymyr Zelensky himself.

Anna Tsivileva, Putin’s cousin’s daughter, who was appointed deputy defense minister in June 2024, has also adopted military-inspired fashion. At work meetings with governors and military leaders, she sometimes wears khaki jackets or coveralls with sequined camouflage patterns on the pockets. As head of the state-funded Defenders of the Fatherland Foundation, she’s also been spotted in safari- and military-style dresses.

At more formal events, where the dress code is stricter, Tsivileva often opts for double-breasted jackets with stand collars — reminiscent of a military tunic — paired with floor-length skirts. At the opening of an exhibition at the Victory Museum marking the 80th anniversary of Soviet victory in World War II, she wore a jacket and skirt featuring camouflage paneling. For the finals of an adaptive clothing competition — where designers showcased garments intended to help wounded veterans “adjust to civilian life” — she appeared in a turquoise chiffon dress with decorative braiding like that on a hussar jacket.

This trend toward militarization and overt “Russianness” in clothing has spread beyond the political establishment. In recent years, many Russians — including Instagram influencers and designers of local fashion brands — have embraced these aesthetics. Their collections draw inspiration from folk tales, traditional patterns, Slavonic Vyaz calligraphy, and the styles of early 20th-century St. Petersburg women.

Entrepreneurs with patriotic leanings have also joined the movement. For the 80th anniversary of Victory Day, online marketplaces and stores sold simple khaki-colored kokoshniks with St. George ribbons and red stars.

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