I love beautifully designed and aesthetically colorful works of art. So, I was really excited about seeing the architectural artistry of the famous Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia, as well as the Chora Church museum with its remarkably preserved mosaics. Little did I know that morning that I'd also find the most thrilling of all, at least to me: wearable art. More on that later.
The Blue Mosque was incredible. Officially named the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, it is a historic mosque known for its gorgeous blue tiles on its interior. It was built from 1609 to 1616, and is still in use today. The colors and patterns were so thoughtfully done in such grand style, and I was reminded again why Islamic architecture always gives me pause.
I confess that the Hagia Sofia was initially disappointing because it was much darker and less elegant than I expected. But the tour guide explained that it was built in 537 and transitioned from a church to a mosque to a museum. I was the world's largest cathedral for nearly a thousand years, so it is indisputably an architectural feat. I decided that I was cerebrally impressed, but aesthetically underwhelmed.
As we exited the Hagia Sofia, I saw one of the many simit sellers with his cheerfully red cart. Simit is a circular bread topped with sesame seeds, which cost only 1 Turkish Lira each (about $0.45). I knew we were headed to the new district for lunch, though, so I didn't want to spoil my appetite. I did get one more look at the Blue Mosque from a slight distance. Gorgeous!
Mohamed and I decided to walk the short distance to Taksim Square before settling on a restaurant, and my eyes bulged when I saw the goodies along the way. Fruit-and-nut encrusted puddings, colorfully bejeweled cakes, glistening tarts -- how was I to choose?
We finally settled on Hafiz Mustafa, a sugar confectionery. Yes, you read that right: the best part about growing up is that you can eat dessert whenever you want, even as a replacement for real food! Everything looked good to me, but we decided to get a nicely browned caramelized rice pudding, a ruby-hued fruit pudding, an airy sponge cake stuffed with cream and fresh fruit, and a rolled kanafeh (Mohamed's favorite because of all the honey-drenched nuts inside). As someone who usually doesn't eat rice, flour, potatoes or added sugar, I found this dessert bonanza to be a fun shock to the system.
After lunch, we headed to the Chora Church museum to see its well-reserved mosaics. I was amazed to see the level of detail, especially the expressions, that the artists were able to create with only tiny pieces of material.
As we got back on the tour bus, our tour guide said that we had several self-directed choices, including the Grand Bazaar. But I had spontaneously decided that I wanted to try and locate Bella Boutique because the designer, Ayesha Evin Buyukaitonay, creates the most sought-after and difficult-to-find couture costumes. I knew she was in Istanbul, but the scant bits of information I found online all lamented how hard her showroom and atelier were to find. But I figured that it was worth a try -- I mean, I was already in Istanbul! Mohamed encouraged me, as he always does, and we got some initial directions by putting the tour guide on the phone with her. We took the metro to the end of the line, switched to the funicular (a term I had never before heard), and connected to the underground tram. As we emerged to a chaotic intersection, I was perplexed. What next? The tour guide said that we could ask anyone for directions once we got to the vicinity, so we first asked some policemen and then a local. They waved in a general direction after squinting at the address I had scratched on a small piece of paper.
As the sun started setting, I turned to Mohamed and said, "this isn't the right way -- we need to ask someone for directions again." A man was sitting by the sidewalk, and Mohamed marched over with his winning smile and asked for help. The man furrowed his eyebrows at the address, and pointed to the phone number. I nodded, and he took out his phone to call the shop. After a conversation that was longer than I expected, he said, "I live in this neighborhood, and the street [written here] is not right. It is the general area. I will walk with you. Sorry my English is not too good." I thought his English was excellent, and more importantly, that he was extremely kind to go out of his way to help some strangers. As we rounded a street corner back towards the metro station where we had exited (sigh), a Bella employee walked us to an unmarked steel door on a side street. Oh my goodness, there was NO WAY I would have found this place on my own! As I took in the frothy, breathy creations carefully ensconced in individual garment bags, I couldn't believe that I was actually there in her shop.
With surprising efficiency, Evin and her assistants helped me get into and out of the costumes I had selected. I ended up with three heart-meltingly beautiful designs. These wearable pieces of art were perfection: with flirtatious ruffled and pleated accents, strategically placed beading, and fabrics that alternated between silky and semi-transparent, I tried to choose my favorite. I looked from the classic burgundy to the coy pink to the elegant cream-colored one, and back again. I asked Mohamed which one he liked best, and he said, "get them all." (And I thought to myself, "and that's why I married you -- I like how you think!") It was true that getting there was a journey and I just couldn't choose which costume I could bear to leave behind. Unfortunately, I had not planned to make such a large purchase in cash, so we had to call the bank and ask them to raise the ATM withdrawal limit. Couture designs come with couture prices (think 4 digits per costume), but I felt that these would be the best mementos of my trip. And she is such a spectacular artist that I'm only too happy to support her endeavors. Here's an in-action picture of the burgundy costume from an unexpected show in Turkey; for more context on that, you'll have to read to the end of the trip. :)
The Blue Mosque was incredible. Officially named the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, it is a historic mosque known for its gorgeous blue tiles on its interior. It was built from 1609 to 1616, and is still in use today. The colors and patterns were so thoughtfully done in such grand style, and I was reminded again why Islamic architecture always gives me pause.
As we exited the Blue Mosque, I spotted an Egyptian obelisk in the Hippodrome, which is usually used for horse racing and chariot racing and, in this case, the sporting and social center of Constantinople (capital of the Byzantine Empire). This is the obelisk of Thutmose III: carved from pink granite, it was originally erected at the Temple of Karnak in Luxor -- which Mohamed and I just visited several months ago in December 2013. Funny how everything eventually connects.
As the sun started setting, I turned to Mohamed and said, "this isn't the right way -- we need to ask someone for directions again." A man was sitting by the sidewalk, and Mohamed marched over with his winning smile and asked for help. The man furrowed his eyebrows at the address, and pointed to the phone number. I nodded, and he took out his phone to call the shop. After a conversation that was longer than I expected, he said, "I live in this neighborhood, and the street [written here] is not right. It is the general area. I will walk with you. Sorry my English is not too good." I thought his English was excellent, and more importantly, that he was extremely kind to go out of his way to help some strangers. As we rounded a street corner back towards the metro station where we had exited (sigh), a Bella employee walked us to an unmarked steel door on a side street. Oh my goodness, there was NO WAY I would have found this place on my own! As I took in the frothy, breathy creations carefully ensconced in individual garment bags, I couldn't believe that I was actually there in her shop.
With surprising efficiency, Evin and her assistants helped me get into and out of the costumes I had selected. I ended up with three heart-meltingly beautiful designs. These wearable pieces of art were perfection: with flirtatious ruffled and pleated accents, strategically placed beading, and fabrics that alternated between silky and semi-transparent, I tried to choose my favorite. I looked from the classic burgundy to the coy pink to the elegant cream-colored one, and back again. I asked Mohamed which one he liked best, and he said, "get them all." (And I thought to myself, "and that's why I married you -- I like how you think!") It was true that getting there was a journey and I just couldn't choose which costume I could bear to leave behind. Unfortunately, I had not planned to make such a large purchase in cash, so we had to call the bank and ask them to raise the ATM withdrawal limit. Couture designs come with couture prices (think 4 digits per costume), but I felt that these would be the best mementos of my trip. And she is such a spectacular artist that I'm only too happy to support her endeavors. Here's an in-action picture of the burgundy costume from an unexpected show in Turkey; for more context on that, you'll have to read to the end of the trip. :)
