My feet are touching down on my $15 fuzzy Ikea carpet, but
are having adulterous thoughts about the Turkish carpets I saw today. My mom
and I visited Sultan Ahmet, a gorgeous neighborhood popular with tourists. My
mom took me to a carpet shop she had visited before called Ottomania. Sitting
in the shop, drinking Turkish coffee and listening to a charming man educate us
about carpets was a nice break from seeing hoards of people brandishing selfie
sticks and hearing the insistent calls of salespeople: “Hello! Hello! You are
my style, lady! Are you Germany? Where are you from? Do you want to change your
life? You have beautiful smile!"
We also went to the Turkish and Islamic Art Museum, which is
worth a visit, even though the woman at the ticket desk was rude and ignored us
when we asked her questions. Still, we walked around and admired all the
exquisite pearl jewelry in one exhibit and the Arabic and Ottoman calligraphy
from some of the first Qurans in another exhibit. My mom asked me what perfume
I was wearing and I said, “24, Faubourg. It’s what Princess Diana used to wear.”
After mentioning Princess Diana, I thought it was a little trippy to be staring
at one of Lady Di’s pearl and diamond tiaras in the museum.
I bought my mom a plush Turkish towel from a shop called Jennifer’s Hamam. This Jennifer has become very successful as a Canadian abroad, opening up three stores and training a staff that is extremely courteous and knowledgeable. I enjoyed browsing the wonderful items in her shops and I think I’ll go back there someday. I have no shortage of towels, but now that I’ve heard the spiel about the superiority of Turkish towels, I want one for myself. A nice towel and a beautiful carpet. I didn’t need these items before today, and now suddenly I do.
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