Istanbul

Merhaba Most Excellent Blog Fans!

Istanbul (my destination for last week). I have been back a couple of days and am mulling over how to describe it, how I truly felt about this sprawling, ancient city. And I still don't know. So you will have to excuse me if I ramble a little in this post.

Having read numerous guide books before I went (Rick Steves' Istanbul; Time Out travel guide: Istanbul; Lonely Planet: Istanbul; Style Guide: Istanbul; A Hedonist's Guide to Istanbul; Eyewitness Guide to Istanbul) along with blogs, and travel articles I had squirreled away from magazines over the last few months, I thought I was well prepared for Istanbul and all it had to offer (Okay, okay, so maybe I went a teensy bit overboard in the research department but I wanted to be prepared rather than just winging it). Hmmm how wrong I was. I, naively perhaps, expected to fall in love immediately. To have a longing to return again and again to the "World's Hippest City" (not my words*) where tradition, culture and ancient architectural marvels collide with the cosmopolitan, the modern, and the fabulous. Instead, I feel confused. And I wonder if this is because Istanbul is itself confused. Is it that Istanbul is still trying to find its identity following the fall of the Ottoman Empire, is it still trying to reinvent itself in its desire for entry into the EU, is it the effect of gentrification? Or is it simply that I, who came expecting the exotic (fuelled, in part, no doubt by those copious glossy magazine articles), had preconceived notions of what Istanbul should be like, rather than what it actually is like in the modern day? I'm not sure and after only 5 days in Istanbul, I am (obviously) in no position to provide the answer. However, while I was there I did read the beautifully written account of Istanbul by Orhan Pamuk "Istanbul Memories and the City" (which I would highly recommend to anyone, whether you are intending to travel to Istanbul or not) and on a grey, wet day in the very back streets of the Old City, I felt I understood what Orhan meant when he talks about a communal melancholy ("Huzun" in Turkish) which seeps through the city and fills its occupants.

What I did fall in love with almost immediately was the people of Istanbul. Generous, kind, friendly, open. They were, in a word, wonderful. If I was fortunate to go back to Istanbul, it would be the people who I would seek out, spend time talking to, photographing, taking tea with. A number of times, after thanking a local for directions when we were hopelessly lost, I almost burst into tears of happiness when a Turkish man would smile, dip his head and pat his heart - such an endearing, delightful gesture. For me, to be invited into the home of an Turkish family would be an honour. For I strongly suspect that the heart of Istanbul, its true identity, lies behind the locked doors in the back streets of the Old Town and steep, cobbled streets of the New District.

Precious memories: hearing my first call to prayer (ever) while standing in the courtyard of the Blue Mosque. It was an incredible moment: spine tingling and something I will never forget; being "warned off" by a pack of street-wise dogs while off wandering on my own (the Dog Whisperer would not have been impressed by my actions- I squealed and ran! Probably the most foolish thing to do in the circumstances); sitting, drinking Turkish coffee and eating cheese toasties while inhaling the heady, sweet smoke from the narghiles being smoked by a cafe full of locals; crossing the Bosphorus in a private launch from Rumeli Hisarı to Kanlica; drinking sweet, fresh orange and pomegranate juice every morning (and afternoon!); strolling along the waterfront in Bebek (European shore) and Kadikoy (Asian shore); drinking Boza in the exquisite 1930's Vefa Bozacisi cafe (more on this in another post); watching the sun go down while chatting with some local fisherman near-ish the Galata Bridge; witnessing the kindness bestowed on the thousands of meows which inhabit the city (I have never seen so many well fed cats!); eating dinner late on Saturday night in a restaurant crowded with happy Turkish families; scoffing the freshest, most delicious kebabs at a teeny place called Aynen Durum just outside the Grand Bazaar while listening to the boisterous men bellowing frantically down their mobiles at the informal money exchange market; watching grown men take childish delight in throwing pieces of simit (the delicious, chewy, sesame coated bread sold by street vendors everywhere in Istanbul) to the eagle-eyed seagulls following the early morning ferry; getting icing sugar up my nose, all down my clothes and camera bag while trying to eat yogurt in Kanlica (messy Messy!); nibbling freshly made, flaky börek ....

This is one of my favourite photographs from Istanbul (yeah, I know I blew the highlights out of the sky on his hands but I still like it!). He was jeweller who had a gorgeous store near Tomtom Kaptan Sokak:

Inside the Blue Mosque:


Treasures for sale in the back streets of Sultanahmet:

The view from Moda, Kadikoy (on the Asian side):

*from Lonely Planet Guide to Istanbul

A Dash of Tangerine and a dashing Oliver

A very quick post before I dash off to somewhere exotic and warm for a few days.....well, it was suppose to be warm but the forecast says rain, rain and, predictably for me, more rain. I am still hopeful of the exotic part!

I love this tangerine smock-ish coat spliced with grey....it reminds me of the colour of the monk's robes I photographed a couple of weeks ago.

And dashing Oliver- what can I say? The man works his tweed-ish jacket so well.

See you next week :)

Running with the Fash Pack....London Fashion Week A/W 09

Sometimes I just shouldn't be allowed out of the house, or at least, my mouth shouldn't be. I don't know what comes over me but I have the ability to stay the daftest, most inappropriate things at times. It is truly a wondrous (unwanted) talent I possess. Like, last week, when I met Scott Schuman (The Sartorialist) I managed to blurt out something about the Dog Whisperer (you know, Cesar Millan, the guy who rehabilitates and rebalances wayward pooches- one of my favourite shows on television).... it wasn't even close to being relevant to our discussion but it popped into my head and before I knew it had bubbled out of my mouth. Being a calm-assertive pack leader has nothing whatsoever to do with fashion or taking photographs....hmmmm, or does it?!

And then today I had to pop into Oxford Street to pick up the new U2 CD* for Mr Messy's birthday (Happy Birthday Mr Messy!). And I may have made a little detour to Selfridges in the process ;-) So I was happily minding my own business (read: spraying myself with liberal amounts of Tom Ford perfume) when a gentleman asked if I would like to try the new Guerlain fragrance. So I did. And then he asked me what I thought of it. And I told him. Um, that it sort of reminded me of a "nana" fragrance, errr, like something my grandma would have worn (lets just say that it had strong notes of violet). This was obviously not the right thing to say as he looked me up and down disdainfully before flouncing off. I felt bad: I just should have said it smelt "different" or "unusual".

And then I bumped into the girl with the purple shoes in the 4th photo (below) in Boots chemist today. And I felt the compulsion to tell her I had photographed her at LFW last week.....And it was all just a bit embarrassing and weird. I kind of just wanted the ground to swallow me up...

And then there are my various attempts at making conversation on the Tube and....



Loving that red hair:

Kate Lanphear, Senior Fashion and Style editor at Elle (US):

The girl with the purple shoes:

Model, off-duty:
Continuing my littlest fashionista series, this wee girl was very sweet. Um, except I think the look on her face says "Listen up here strange lady, back it up and step away with that camera from me and my penguin!"

*anyone else purchased the CD yet???

Running with the Fash Pack...London Fashion Week A/W 09

It is always a challenge when taking Street Style photographs to create interesting images....it is ridiculously easy to fall into the trap of just having the subject strike the "standard pose" (directly facing the camera) which gets the shot but doesn't necessarily make for inspiring viewing. This is particularly so around Fashion Week when everyone is rushing from show to show and/or has been asked to pose for a photograph a zillion times that day. I try and not do the "same old, same old" but inevitably my nerves and lack of courage to, for example, ask the person I am photographing to move to a better location, get the better of me and I end up not getting the photograph I envisaged.

Apart from The Sartorialist, the other blog I am completely addicted to is Garance Doré : her street fashion photographs are simply outstanding. Every day I am almost too afraid to look at her blog for fear of being overcome by jealously at her latest offerings and sinking into a deep, dark depression. Her photographs are just THAT good. I work casually at a photographic agency in London and while the work of those photographers fills me with envy (and inspiration!), I know that behind each shot is some serious styling, make up artists, hair stylists, lighting etc. Not so with street style photography. It all comes down to having an eye for the stylish and beautiful, thinking quickly and shooting fast. Which is what Garance does so exquisitely.

I think one of the most important things in street fashion photography is background. Take a look at The Sartorialist's latest photograph (a girl with a red coat, beige skirt and jaunty feathered hat). What makes the photograph so likable (apart from the clothes, the gorgeous girl, the wind kicking up her skirt that is!!)? The blue background. If this photograph had been taken on a busy street with street signs, posts, a rubbish bin, whatever, cluttering up the background I don't think it would have looked half as good. The same goes for Garance- her backgrounds are simple, uncluttered, balanced. I have so much to learn (sigh)!

X marks the (fashion) spot:

So this is how you do pale and beautiful (Jade Parfitt, model):

This gentleman's outfit makes me happy AND I love his smile:

He reminds me of a young Yves Saint Laurent:

Love that splash of shocking pink:

And that splash of red:

I couldn't resist a photograph of this little fellow in his flat cap:

Running with the Fash Pack....London Fashion Week A/W 09

Best facial hair moment of the week (above): The Raj Moustache. Love.

This woman was fabulous. She had THE most amazing figure, looked completely stunning and was lovely to chat to as well:

A little bit broody, a little bit preppy and a whole lot handsome:

My absolute favourite photograph of LFW, little Iris (below). I love her gorgeous little tunic, stripey tights, bobbed hair and that tongue!!!:

Beauty powered by Red Bull (below):

Another favourite look (below). The hat just makes the look:

Running with the Fash Pack...London Fashion Week A/W 09 (Day?!- I've lost count!)

LFW ended with a bang last night with the House of Holland show in Mayfair. Kanye, Pixie, Peaches, Nicola Roberts, Jamie Winstone, Erin O'Connor (who arrived in the LFW Maserati which positively Grrrr-owls) all turned out for Henry Holland's show complete with model and muse, Agyness Deyn (fresh in from NYC). It was a crazy, charged atmosphere with the paparazzi everywhere (one almost ran over my foot on his motorbike) and bemused fashion folk looking on at the circus.


One of my favourite looks of LFW (I think she is Lulu Kennedy, Director of Fashion East...apologies if I have got it wrong):

Mr Kanye West, in da Messy house (outside BFC tent):

I'm still catching up with my processing, so stay tuned for more fashion week photographs over the next few days :)

Running with the Fash Pack...London Fashion Week A/W 09 (Day 3)

Today (Monday 23 February 2009) I fulfilled one of my dreams. I got to meet THE most influential fashion and street style blogger in the world. The Master of Street Fashion photography himself: Mr Scott Schuman.....THE SARTORIALIST.

Those of you who follow Scott's blog will know what I mean when I say that I almost wet myself when I spotted him outside the Marios Schwab show: my understanding is that Scott rarely (if ever) comes to London Fashion Week. After double checking that it was indeed Scott (with a another photographer who assured me that it was indeed the great man himself), I mustered enough courage to introduce myself and squeak out a few words. And he was lovely, like REALLY lovely. And friendly. And handsome (those eyes!). I asked if I could take his photograph and he graciously allowed me to. And... no, I am not going to publish it :)

Special moment: when The Sartorialist and Face Hunter greeted each other warmly. We like that :)

So tonight as I process my photos sipping a (large) glass of red, I am feeling rather chuffed and a wee bit giddy ;-) And revived. And refreshed. Despite my musings on Saturday that perhaps LFW had lost its lustre, the arrival of The Sartorialist has laid those fears to rest. LFW is back (if it ever went away in the first place!)

Outside Christopher Kane:

Model Tottie Greer:

Yvonne McKee:

Rockin' those heels and bag (it's almost ALWAYS about great shoes and a great handbag):

These are THE highest, thinnest heels I have spied all week. FIERCE:

Another little fashionista: