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If you suspect that a close relative, like your father, is involved with a gold digger, then you have to be careful about stating your suspicions.You could always approach your relative directly with your concerns.Back on the street with her nervous little dog and a dozen sequined dresses. Private eyes.”Oliona’s playing fields are a constellation of clubs and restaurants designed almost exclusively for the purpose of sponsors looking for girls and girls looking for sponsors. So Oliona’s looking for a new sugar daddy (they’re not called “sugar daddies” here but “sponsors”). ”“Oh yeah, I have to be careful; he has one of his bodyguards check up on me. The guys are known as “Forbeses” (as in Forbes rich list); the girls as “tiolki,” cattle. I left town.”As we pack up Oliona is as thoughtful as I’ve ever seen her: “Actually could you avoid what happened in that room in your program?

Well, fuck them: that just makes me proud.”“Could you ever go back there? And the minute the sugar daddy gets bored with her, she’s out. ”Excerpted from Peter Pomerantsev's new book, Nothing Is True And Everything Is Possible: The Surreal Heart Of The New Russia (Public Affairs, November 11).The show is going to be called How to Marry a Millionaire.I had thought it would be tough to get Oliona to talk, that she would be shy about her life.She danced well, which is how she met her sugar daddy. And their sweet, simple glances seem to say how amusing this whole masquerade is, that yesterday we were all living in communal flats and singing Soviet anthems and thinking Levis and powdered milk were the height of luxury, and now we’re surrounded by luxury cars and jets and sticky Prosecco.Now she earns the basic Moscow mistress rate: the apartment, ,000 a month, a car, and a weeklong holi- day in Turkey or Egypt twice a year. And though many westerners tell me they think Russians are obsessed with money, I think they’re wrong: the cash has come so fast, like glitter shaken in a snow globe, that it feels totally unreal, not something to hoard and save but to twirl and dance in like feathers in a pillow fight and cut like papier-mâché into different, quickly changing masks. the music goes faster and faster, and in the throbbing, snowing night the cattle become Forbeses and the Forbeses cattle, moving so fast now they can see the traces of themselves caught in the strobe across the dance floor.

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