the silk there used to be.

You know, since Berlin I grew interested in old faded strangers' photos. They make me wonder and help me dream. There was life in here and even far far there, long before me, there were hope, and care, and obstinacy, and will, and pride and intimacy and expectations, and there were thoughts, that become unintentionally clear and exposed when their owner is not here anymore to hide them. They look sort of wise, these grey elegant people with Turkish eyebrows, somehow aware and yet bright and patient, as if their soul grew old and experienced while they kept their young prominent figure staring at you.
I found these old pictures from a older rag-and-bone dealer in the Asian half of Istanbul.

1960. there used to be a lot of silk. And twisted glittering doodles, and a fierce and noble gaze.Photobucket Photobucket
Strong sisterhood in spite of injured ankle and kid facing adults' worries.

Photobucket Photobucket
Exemplary Turkish woman with potential concerns and 1949 country mum and babies with joyful clothes.

1961. That's the kind of picture that turn me into a big biology fan. It's astonishing how much of our story, a great part of which we're not even aware of, we carry around written on our very face.Photobucket
Pride and bravey. Are they a couple or just partners? Pale, combed, resolute, polished.Photobucket
1929. Ahh, the twenties! When we still called the place Costantiniye and side-parted our hair!


Anna Piaggi as the Blue Mosque and Tilda Swinton's absent presence.

reflecting in Pera Museum.

I've been in Istanbul recently. That's why you see me drinking rose water and my own tears wrapped in my pashminas while Sufi music lulls me to sleep. There would be so much to say - but I'd have to dress the wound first, and it will take me quite a while.
Meantime, I would like to concentrate on food. Never, never I could have imagined those things before tasting them. Sweets especially. I really think those kind of pleasures should be illegal. Honey, especially. Of whatever you wouldn't ever have thought honey could be taken out from. And pomegranate sweet sauce, and rose flavour. And grapes, pistachios, and walnuts. And those enormous black figs. The nougats and these small pieces of joy cloaked by icing sugar. And just grinded Turkish coffee within you can read future. And apple and cinnamon cakes. And rose sherbet, which tastes as perfume, and whose recipe is a magic secret you have to ask for in old pharmacies, and they will tell you a lie as they did to me.

via kateinthekitchen.com
I'm trying by now to have a tee printed with this very baklava over it. Not kidding.

Speaking now about something more easy to understand even by those of you who eat no more, there happen to be Istanbul Fashion Week when I was there! And the last day I lied to a security guard to get in at the exclusive final party. I'm not sure that's legal. But wasn't this way that made Charles Guislain what he is? Accepted everywhere? Perseverance! Anyway I ended up with the Fashion Week tote bag in my hands, that will make a show as my lunch bag this winter in faculty, which is definitely worth the embarrassment. And this year the city is even European Capital of Culture, and that made almost all Sultanahmet wireless, and music events pretty much everywhere. And there was Ramadan even. Which isn't touristic exactly, but made every sunset a feast. That to say that it was the most perfect planetary combination to go there, and you missed it. Sorry.
Here my favs from the exquisite set of polaroid through which Kristopher Arden-Houser describe his time at the IFW:

Oh! Anna Piaggi looks superbly like the Blue Mosque.

see the whole set on stylecaster

Last picture is about what I still haven't mentioned yet just to make you envious once again at this point when you just started to accept the whole thing. But if you hasten it's still there! And definitely you should! So what are you doing here? Hurry up!
'Hussein Chalayan: 1994-2010' at Istanbul Modern is a very must see.

via bloglovin

They are real you know? Even Actually there. They look so big and imposing. And pretty much near. Not behind a display cabinet or reliquary or stuff like that, most of them are free. Very close you can smell them. And they whisper. They do. They murmur -Touch me silly cupcake-. You need a lot of self control so. But multiplied Tilda Swinton are watching you from all the screens of the place and you will behave well. Here few renowned masterpieces you may have the pleasure to meet there.

Geotropics, ss 1999

Before minus now, ss 2000
pics from 11/13

Silly cupcake

Absent Presence, 2005
pic via

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