A City on Earth

Life is short and full of terrible surprises. I will always remember you with your smile, Nursel.

Bread&Butter is so many things. A contemporary fashion/textile fair held in some cities that begin with a “B”, for instance. A traditional pudding that is very British (very British that there’s even beer in it), is another example for what it stands for. And Bread&Butter is a nice, small, cute, yummy cafe in Istanbul. We were there last Saturday, adding some more fat to our already fat bodies and not caring about it.

For more calories: Bread&Butter, Mim Kemal Öke Cad. No: 1C Nişantaşı

The wait is ova! Can we go home now? Oh, yes, yeah, hurray! As of yesterday, finally and totally we’ve been Vouged. The premiere Turkish issue is out. Go and grab it. That’s it! That’s our edition! But again, can we go home now?

I have a few friends (actually only two) and a few acquaintances, who have dedicatedly locked themselves up in an ugly building for months to make Vogue Turkey come to life, so I’ll stop being stupid and be nice instead. Nicer than nice…

To start with, Vogue Turkey issue numero uno is heavy. I’m having trouble carrying it around despite the Pilates arms. Jessica Stam is on the cover. My least favorite model but still… (I’ll be grateful that it’s her on the cover later.) The layout is good, though not very Vogue, and close to being clean. Some pages look overcrowded but I’m sure they will sort it out soon. I haven’t read any of the written stuff yet, therefore “no comment” on the tone of voice or whatsoever for the time being. I like some of the fashion shoots. Some of them, I don’t like. And what else?

OK, for the rest, I now have to go through the magazine’s pages once again because I had only a very quick look in my first round. Here I go…

As I’m writing this, I turn over one page and see this girl. I know her from somewhere(s). She’s a model. A Turkish one. I turn over another page and hey, that’s her again. No, no, no, she is not a model but a fashion editor. Yes, she used to style fashion shoots for a bunch of magazines in the past. Here’s another “another” page and what a coincidence, that’s who else but her again. Isn’t she the owner of this vintage boutique? Yes, that’s definitely her. She’s not a model or stylist. I’m almost reaching the final but wait! I spot the same girl again on a totally “another” page. I suddenly remember who she really is. She is this all-of-the-above-cum-over-acting-actress who once stared in a TV series with a male co-star who will surely (well, hopefully) never make it in Vogue.

Then I locate her name on the magazine’s id page under some title with air suspension. And all of a sudden, the reason why I had some doubts about Vogue Turkey long before it made its debut, makes itself very clear. 

Must indeed go home now. And must write an e-mail to French Vogue. I want to see Emmanuelle Alt making personal appearances on at least 15 different pages in their next issue.

Thanks to whoever for having Jessica Stam on the cover. Now, you know why.

But I don’t know why I can’t see a certain Serif Can Özcan’s name mentioned for his contributions to the magazine. 

Did you know that swearing at cops on duty seriously takes you to the court. I thought it was a myth. And I still don’t know whether swearing at cops-off-duty takes you to the same legal place or not. I must be more in the know about that. I’ll ask authorities. Anyway, it was my court day today, and guess what? The cop who on a reassuringly dull Sunday months ago got on my nerves and in return received bad language from me that involved close family members, didn’t show up. So there I was wearing my black blazer jacket and defensive manners with no one to defend myself against to, apart from the judge who was this nice lady patiently listening and later repeating my words in her own kind words and in slow motion for the typing guy to type them down. She then let me go. To be honest, I was expecting more action and adrenalin. No. The court was piece of cake, baked by the judge herself who should indeed be baking cakes at home instead of dispensing justice.

The courtroom was a small room with formica tables and wooden benches (nothing like the ones we see in the movies). I can’t say I liked their deco style. But who am I to judge.

Ulaş made this logo for my other blog. My other blog is a Porsche blog. No, I was just being silly. Anyway, two birds with one stone… I’m both advertising my other blog (which is no way a Porsche blog) and my dear friend Ulaş, who is a gifted graphic designer who can make great logos with one arm.

My not-going-out-and-not-consuming-alcohol regime continues. As much as it can. Last night was Ulaş’s birthday therefore I had a big excuse to wave goodbye to the regime and say hello to a night out after almost a month. The celebrations kicked off with a few beers at Babylon Lounge, a few more at Babylon (”the concert hall next door” as Tunç kept saying all night in case we might have forgotten the multi-space structure of Babylon while on a diet) and a few more at… well, Little Otto, of course. The above images are from the Little Otto period. And what we are doing with Ulaş in the last two is a different story.

Happy birthday, Ulaş! Have a healthy and sexy year.

Tell me, who did this? OK. We are still in Istanbul, in the very centre indeed. This is the old Taksim Gezi Park. And this is the old fountain. Probably work of a foreign artist or urban objects designer or whatever you call people with such skills and profession. I’ve been trying to find the name of the person behind this beauty and googled it a couple of times without any successful results. And I must say, I’m a pro at googling. Instead of a name, I came across some people’s brilliant ideas and comments that this old fountain should better be replaced by a playground!!! Stop there. First of all there’s already a playground within the borders of the park. Plus, the world is overpopulated enough so we can stop thinking about children, their happiness and particularly, making new ones.  This planet doesn’t need your kid. And that’s a fact no matter what your sinister minister says about having a set of 3. Anyway, back to the main subject. I’m planning to promote the fountain on an international level. A feature in Wallpaper magazine, wide spread coverage in every single Istanbul tourist guide book, small size fountain key rings to be sold at souvenir shops etc. And then I have plans to have it included in the Seven Wonders of the World list. They are updating the list once in a while with votes, don’t they? If they do not agree to replace the fountain with the Great Wall of China or the Stonehenge, then they can change their title to Eight Wonders of the World. And I’m still wondering about the fountain’s designer.

This was pretty much what I saw from where I was sitting at home and translating an interview with a certain band manager this Sunday. Istanbul is covered with snow and looks very clean. I think, white suits her.

Can somebody, anyone who is reading this blog and residing elsewhere (other than Turkish soil), go out and check their local Alexander Wang-stocking store out to see if they still have a pair left of these leather shoes? They are called Ines Oxford. Otherwise I’ll keep this print out sticked on my shoes and pretend to be walking in his shoes. It will be quite impossible to walk that way but I’ll do my best. My shoe size is 40 in Europe, 10 in the US and 7 in the UK btw.

Since friends and family started openly complaining about me rarely updating this particular blog (actually, there’s only one person to bring the subject up, but still a complaint is a complaint and should be taken into consideration) tonight I made an attempt to add a brand new entry. However, due to lack of any note-worthy happenings recently in my life (I’ve become a victim of the home-office-home routine. Without any alcohol within my blood cells for more than 10 days. And (my) life can be very boring at such times), I couldn’t go any further than making an attempt. Then suddenly, I decided to write about curtains. My curtain-less life, to be more precise… I’ll be celebrating its 3rd anniversary this month. Life without curtains, which can be very similar to playing the leading role in a soap opera… Don’t think that I had the opportunity or any desire to star in one. One knows how it feels like to be in a soap opera through one’s watching experience.

The problem with my curtains, or rather the unbearable absence of them, is that I have a small house with big windows, an architectural fact that puts the curtain in a position to be the most dominant thing inside the four walls of my dwelling. Thus, I couldn’t make up my mind about which type, colour or any other aspect of fabric to go and here I am, right where I started 3 years ago, when I had the apartment repainted and redecorated with a totally new taste and threw away the blinds then covering the windows.

BUT… I have plans to visit a few drapery stores this weekend. So that finally my neighbours living in the opposite building can go back to their mediocre lives instead of keeping their eyes wide open to the soap opera called “me”. Not that my life is any superior than theirs… I just used the word “mediocre” to make it sound superior than theirs. Plus, I like the word “mediocre” in a sentence. As long as it is not used to define things about/related to me.

I’ll keep you posted about my curtain shopping experience. I’m sure, it will be fun. So, watch this space.