Let’s knock a few points from the Ticket List:

Salvador Dali-themed trolleybus, captured with my Smena 35. (The colors are gorgeous! I think I love this little camera)

And the Gustav Klimt-themed trolleybus, captured with my Nikon FG (with black and white film, oops).

Here’s a better photo of it taken by my friend Miles (of Plov for Two fame).

Here’s an article in Russian about the art-themed trolleys, if you’re interested. I’ve heard there’s now a third one roaming around the city, possibly Picasso? I haven’t seen it yet though. A new mission!

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I went to the Spring/Summer show of Bishkek Fashion Week last year. It was awesome. The agency that organizes it (for some reason) granted me a press pass just for asking for one. (Is that how these things work? I’m inexperienced at being “press”.) I got to creep around backstage and take some of my favorite photos of Kyrgyzstan ever. I missed last year’s Fall/Winter show because I was hugely pregnant and already back in the states, but I swore to myself that I’d go again. So when I started getting email updates about preparations for BFW 2013, I was stoked.

(most of the photos in this post are from last year’s show, fyi)

But then, things went a bit pear-shaped. Some would call it a SNAFU.

Let’s walk through the timeline of my understanding of the week’s events.

Sunday, March 24: Cat show at the Russian Drama Theater! Near the end of the show, it was clear that there is a high ratio of high-heeled, willowy, attractive females in the building, leading me to believe there was a dress rehearsal for BFW going on at the same time. Or, maybe models just love cats.

Tuesday, April 2: Fashion Week kicks off at the Russian Drama Theater with “well-known” fashion designers that I’ve never heard of.

Wednesday, April 3: Supposedly, the recently fired director of the theater, believing his termination to be unfair, steals all of the lighting and sound equipment. The fashion show that night is cancelled. All of this is unknown to me at the time.

Thursday, April 4: Kirstin and a friend show up at the theater. Things that are strange: All of the banners on the outside of the theater are gone, there is no one selling tickets and very few people in the lobby other than vendors selling handicrafts (that was the same as last year, so that seemed like a familiar sign). We were a bit late, so I figured the show had started and we could sneak in. We open the door to the main hall, expecting to run into a scolding, ticket-collecting babushka, and were met with… nothing. Pitch black, no people, no fashion.

This is the part where I have a mini-meltdown. I know there’s a fashion show scheduled for tonight, I know that it’s supposed to be here. If I have the wrong day or the wrong location, then why is the craft fair still in the lobby, like last year? I’m positive. I received emails that said it would be this week, at this location. We spoke to a few vendors in the lobby who had no idea what Fashion Week was. Where did I go wrong!?

We wandered aimlessly outside the theater while I texted Farrell and tried to make sure I hadn’t made a huge error. He called back and said an article he found explained the now ex-director’s plundering exit. Apparently the show for that night had been moved to Atmosphere, a restaurant/bar. Considering how late it already was and our collective fear about trying to weasel our way into a swanky bar with sub-par Russian skills, we cut our losses and spent the night having a much needed girl-talk session at an Italian restaurant.

Friday, April 5: I get an email from the BFW organizers (I must have been stuck on a mailing list at some point) about a newly scheduled “Best of BFW” night in a few days that will happen to feature mostly designers from the cancelled Wednesday night show, at a different restaurant/club that I’ve never heard of. I later found out that the Friday show was also held at Atmosphere.

Saturday, April 6: I’m assuming that the Saturday night show happened, but I haven’t found any news about it. I received another email that the super exclusive black-tie, invite-only gala that typically follows BFW (scheduled for Sunday) has decided to be super inclusive. The email was essentially begging everybody and anybody to attend (at yet another restaurant, a different one) because they could really use the 500 som (~$10) entrance fee from as many people as possible.

Sunday and Monday: I had other plans already, so I skipped the gala and the “best of” show, despite how obvious it was that the organizers needed people to attend.

It’s disappointing that Bishkek Fashion Week became so chaotic and hard to follow just because one guy was upset about getting fired. I think the organizers could have done a much much better job at trying to keep the public up to speed on what was happening; the Fashion Week website wasn’t even updated with any evidence of this Spring’s show until after it had already started, and the emails they sent out for rescheduled events usually did not include information like when the show would start or the address of the place it was being held at. Also, examining some photos from the first night, the absence of a big-name sponsor that was on the main banner last year makes me think that maybe the organizers have lost a vital source of funding. Bad news for Bishkek Fashion Week, but I hope they can pull through.

Some of my friends (especially some in the fashion industry here) have complained about how meaningless they believe BFW is, but these things need to start small, they need to have some bumps, they need to feature shitty designers and eventually (if the event can survive) it’ll become better. Or, at least that’s what this clueless foreigner thinks.

In other Fashion Week news, Kazakhstan Fashion Week was held this past week in Almaty. Yours truly, feeling like any Fashion Week would be happy to have a random American girl poking around backstage with her camera, requested a press pass and was denied. Another Fashion Week Fail for me.

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No more cameras. I told Farrell and my friends; don’t let me buy any more cameras (for a little while at least, unless I find a really good deal, or a Sputnik).

Last week, I visited a new-to-me antique shop where I had heard there might be a Sputnik for sale. There wasn’t one, but as I browsed some of the other cameras for sale, I realized that I had no idea what I was looking for in an old Soviet-era film camera. I made it a goal to figure out a brand and model that I wanted, what a fair price would be and how to tell if it was in decent working condition. After a few days of ruthless internet research, I decided I wanted either a Fed 2 or a Zorki 4. I planned to visit several shops this past weekend to get an idea of what cameras Bishkek had to offer, in what conditions and at what prices.

Here are my results.

First I went to Tsum, the big, old department store in town. On the fourth floor, there are many vendors selling mostly the same stock of felt slippers, kalpaks, postcards and other souvenirs. Some of the stalls have a small quantity of cameras, or there’s one or two dedicated antique shops. I knew beforehand that souvenirs here are mostly overpriced, but I was under the impression that while the cameras that were available might be expensive, it was because they were better quality than what I might find elsewhere. I took diligent notes and thoroughly annoyed several vendors by spending 15 minutes carefully pulling apart cameras, testing various shutter speeds, looking for defects, and asking very specific, technical questions.

It turns out, Tsum doesn’t sell pristine cameras, they just sell overpriced ones. Massively overpriced. I found a Fed 2 with serious shutter issues for 3800 som (~$80). As I was busy discovering various flaws with the camera, the woman working there called the store’s owner and told me, “She said it’s in great condition!” Oh, really? I guess we have different definitions of what “great condition” means. Other cameras I checked out were all in questionable working condition and a few were downright busted or absolutely disgusting (covered in blue mold). The cheapest one was 2200 som (~$46), which was way too much in my mind.

The next day, I went with a group of friends to the weekend market at Orto Sai bazaar (which you may remember is where I took my dad in January and bought my Smena 35). I was still planning to just look at what was available, open some cameras, ask some questions, take notes and maybe return the following week if I found a particularly fine specimen.

…and then I bought three cameras.

First, I came upon a guy selling a lone Zorki 6 among some old books and clothes. It worked well and the price was 600 som (~$12). Me, being an expert bargainer, talked him down to 500 som (~$10). My thinking was, maybe I’ll use this camera, or maybe I won’t and then I can easily resell it for at least as much as I bought it for.

About 15 minutes later I came to the same guys I bought my Smena 35 from. They had several Fed 2′s and Zorki 4′s and I found a pretty decent one of each. The Zorki 4 was the nicer of the two, so I thought, “Okay, if I were to purchase one of these, then I guess I’d go with the Zorki 4.” Then I asked the price; 600 som each.

Psssssh. Shut up. How about 500 som each? He agreed. Sold!

He threw in a few rolls of expired film for free. Then I convinced one of my friends to drop 1500 som (~$30) on a medium-format camera. I must have been his favorite customer that day.

So despite trying to be pragmatic about my next camera purchase, I impulsively jumped on a good deal. I feel good about my purchases though; I thoroughly examined each one and feel confident that they will probably work once I clean them up a bit and pop in a test roll (I won’t use the old stock until I’m sure that they work).

So now what? I have nine cameras with me here in Bishkek; a Canon 7D that gets tons of use (obviously, it’s my only digital camera), a Kodak rangefinder from the 50s that I bought on Etsy just before moving to Bishkek (I’m fairly certain it doesn’t work), a Lubitel 166B that I bought soon after moving to Bishkek (from Tsum, paid too much and something’s wrong with the film advance), a Nikon FG (gift from my stepmom), a Smena 35 (I broke the film rewind lever, but I’m assuming it’s still functional), a Smena 6 (from Karakol, I’m 99% sure it won’t work), and now my Fed 2, Zorki 4 and Zorki 6. I guess I should start shooting.

Like a proud parent, I’d just like to gush a bit more about my cameras. The Zorki 6 is, surprisingly to me, the oldest of the bunch, having been produced in 1960 (“before the Beatles!” says Farrell). The Fed 2 is from 1962 and the Zorki 4 from 1967 (they’re both fairly late models of their respective brands). The Zorkis both have the same lens, an Industar 50, while the Fed has an Industar 26m. I’m hoping to find a few different lenses while I’m here, maybe a Jupiter 8 or a Fed lens. If any of this makes sense to you, please feel free to comment and gush about your own Soviet cameras too!

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