Vyacheslav Terentev has no get-rich tale to tell in "Confessions of a Clothing Maker," his manifesto just published in Put k Uspekhu, or Path to Success, a new magazine for Russian entrepreneurs. He just wants the world to know "Why I'm Not Broke."


Terentev -- who took a branch of the bloated state consumer goods network Mosbyt and turned it into Apis, a profitable producer and marketer of work-wear that employs 200 people and boasts clients like LogoVAZ and Coca-Cola -- is the magazine's first Entrepreneur of the Issue.


Terentev doesn't wear a purple suit, carry a cellular phone or even look excessively rich, at least in the portrait printed alongside his advice to would-be imitators. And that is just fine with Vladislav Ksionzhek, who founded the bimonthly magazine.


Put k Uspekhu is aimed at Russians trying to start their own businesses or turn old-style Soviet companies into market competitors, Ksionzhek said. The concept is based on American magazines like Inc. and Success that profile entrepreneurs and offer helpful hints -- but with a few twists.


"We have to start from scratch," he said. That means telling readers how to get an export contract, which fax machine is the best value, how to act at a reception.


And, says Ksionzhek, Put k Uspekhu has to survive in the same tough conditions as Russia's new businesses.


"We don't have to imagine what they're going through," he said. "We are in the same position."


Ksionzhek founded the magazine with financing from 10 banks and companies and several government organizations, including the Industrial Policy Committee. USAID has provided free consulting. But no more funds are forthcoming, so to survive, the magazine plans to act as an entrepreneur itself, facilitating business deals among its readers and participating in some of them.


The first such deal is already under way, he said. To promote Russian applied art -- jewelry, linen, porcelain and other traditional crafts -- the magazine and an American partner are founding stateside a Russian crafts museum with an attached store, to teach American collectors to recognize valuable Russian craftsmanship.


The idea, Ksionzhek said, is to cultivate a public of connoisseurs, so that top artists can sell them exquisite works at corresponding prices and stop churning out cheap fakes to sell to unwitting tourists at inflated prices. Several craftspeople and exporters have already called, asking to join in after reading about the deal in the magazine, he said.


Ksionzhek received his degree in theoretical physics. But the fantasy stories he wrote on the side got him called into the local branch of the Young Communist League, which ordered him to become fiction editor of the local newspaper, Komsomolets Kuzbassa.


One fateful day in 1982, he was put on the jury of a competition of disco acts. A troupe which he felt was head and shoulders above the rest in technique and "spirituality" was passed over for a group of Komsomol favorites whose act criticized America's role in Vietnam. Ksionshek put his outrage in print -- "and my career at that newspaper came to an end."


Ksionzhek became interested in business during perestroika, when he worked at the magazine "Youth Technology," trying to hook up young scientists with American investors. Watching those young scientists become young entrepreneurs, Ksionzhek dreamed up Put k Uspekhu.


The magazine is evidently tailored toward what one article calls "the young and disorderly Russian market." Sandwiched between basic explanatory articles about bank insurance and export licenses are hints on how to fortify one's apartment against intruders, "avoid excessive taxes" and install secret video surveillance systems.


There are also tips on the trappings of business life. Five consultants, including "an employee of the House of Fashion on the Arbat," share the secrets of "How to Choose a Tie." A survey makes the surprising claim that the majority of bank presidents do not smoke (those who do, it seems, prefer Marlboro). And the Success in Love section offers "Advice for Men Without Serious Intentions," reprinted from Penthouse.


Some revenue will also come from magazine sales. Of the 20,000 copies of the first two issues, about half were sold in kiosks and by subscription, and half were given away as a promotion. Eventually, Ksionzhek hopes, about half the circulation will be sold to small business support committees being formed by local administrations around the country and handed out to business people seeking advice.


Orders have come in from committees as far away as the Far East city of Chukhotka, since the magazine was endorsed by State Duma deputies, Ksionzhek said.