Carpetblogger

Airline Passengers as Explained by their Pants: Istanbul Edition

One thousand apologies to McSweeny's for ripping off its post, Airline Passengers as Explained by Their Pants, but it was too America-centric for our taste. As the primary hub serving Crapistan, Istanbul's Ataturk airport (IST) deserves its own list.

Red tracksuit: Will vomit in the aisle.

White hiphuggers with gold pinstripes, matching sport coat, jheri curls: THY 365 to Tripoli is now boarding.

Pleated shiny slacks, with Hugoe Bose label, pointy toed shoes: Will applaud upon touchdown in Erbil.

Cargo pants and a polo shirt with a corporate logo: Checked a stun grenade, two tasers and steroid powder.

Nothing but a white towel: Checked six liters of Zamzam in Jeddah. At carousel, retrieves two litres and two empty plastic jugs. :(

Low rise jeans, muffintop: Fell in love with her waiter, sobs the whole flight back to Manchester.

Dirty white shalwar: Will leave footprints on the toilet seat.

Clean, light blue shalwar: Asks flight attendant which direction is Mecca, does ablutions in the toilet.

Leopard skin capris with rhinestone seams, stiletto heels: Did not pay for her own ticket.

Stonewashed jeans with matching jacket: Passport has “stan” somewhere on the front cover.

Quik-dry travelpants with 7+ zippered pockets, white running shoes: Loved the food, is no longer afraid of Muslims.

Pleather jeans with a camel toe: Checked 75 kilos of red Chinese-made bras.

Baggy cotton trousers, floral: Put a lamb in the overhead bin.

Baggy cotton trousers, striped: Aspriational busker, put a juggling kit in the bin (Thanks to @AJKhn.)

Any we missed? Do add in the comments, or send via twitter @carpetblogger1

 

Ask Carpetblogger: How Can Ukraine Increase its Appeal to Futbol Hooligans? NSFW, BTW

Dear Carpetblogger,

The Eurocup 2012 soccer tournament in Ukraine this year is finding that they have sold only half the tickets they should have by now. European soccer hooligan wannabes are blanching at the 500 Euro per night for three star crapotels. My question for you...don't Ukrainians realize that if they don't charge reasonable prices, nobody will come?

Yours truly,

Kpic

Dear Kpic:

Thanks for the question! We know that you, like us, care about both Ukraine and futbol so we're going to answer this question with more than the usual care and seriousness.

As you probably know, Carpetblogger devoted much of her youth to selling things no one wants, namely, Democrats. Therefore, we are uniquely positioned to help Ukraine address its issues.

Ukraine's government is run by a breathtakingly corrupt cabal of thugs, its economy is near collapse and its sullenly incompetent service sector is woefully unprepared to meet the high standards in cuisine and accommodation demanded by sophisticated world futbol fans. These negatives are hard to overcome, it's true. But Ukraine is not without natural advantages. As a market research professional, we encourage Ukraine to play to its strengths.

Carpetblog Weighs in: Georgian Food in Istanbul at Cafe Euro

You've heard the old saying about dining in Istanbul -- "There's all kinds of cuisine here as long as it's Turkish." Perhaps you've argued that Istanbul is the biggest city in the world without a real Pakistani restaurant. People come to Istanbul for a lot of reasons -- many of them good -- but not for its selection of international food.

So, when we read a FB post by the writer of the lovely Delicious Istanbul blog about Cafe Euro's Georgian food, we got our hopes up, just a little. She appears to be of some FSU provenance -- not sure which, don't want to offend! -- so we viewed her as credible. And, that the restaurant is located in Aksaray -- which is known locally as Devushkastan --suggested that there is a built-in clientele who knows their satsivi from their tkemali.

Georgians are sort of like Soviet Mexicans. They moved around and set up restaurants all over the Soviet Union to serve their hungry workers needing a taste of home. Every FSU resident we've ever met craves the occasional Georgian meal, even if they've never been to Tbilisi. Georgian food, like Georgia, is unlike anything found anywhere else in the world. We have long moaned about the lack of the real thing in Istanbul. Georgia is so close! Why can't you get a Borjomi and a decent khingali here?

After reading DI's post, we put on our devushka boots and gathered up the famous but also charming Rutherford/Tomasetti Partners and plotted a route into the dark heart of Aksaray. Did you know there is a giant bus station right there in the middle of it that serves exclusively the Caucasus, Russia, Romania and Moldova? We had no idea. There must be a lot of workers coming to Turkey from those countries! What sort of work they do here do you think? Globalization is awesome.

And there it was, Cafe Euro, with Georgia's UFO-script and photos of khingali on the outside walls, conferring a legitimacy that could not be faked. We were so excited. We stepped down into its dark bowels and felt like we had stepped into a bus station in Batumi. Cheap cafe decor in Turkey is white molded plastic chairs. In Georgia, and Cafe Euro, it's rickety metal-backed chairs with pleather seats. It's also bleached hair, cigarettes and drunken dancing to Russian pop at 7 pm. We were home.

We have found that the only time we can speak Turkish is when we want to speak another language in which we know 50 words, like Russian. The waitress, who was Georgian, got excited by our efforts and, in violation of traditional food service norms in her homeland, became super friendly and helpful. Sadly, 7 pm is not the hour to go if you want lobio or khinghali. The only things available were khachapuri (yay!) and kebab (less yay). We speculate that if you want access to the full menu (keeping in mind there is no menu), you need to come when the buses are arriving or departing.

We ordered up some Adjarian (the kind with an egg, and not our favorite, but it will do if a Minghrelian is not available). It was fine but we really wanted khingali, particularly since we had talked it up to the RT Partners, who had never had Georgian before. And there was Efes, not Kazbegi. A real Russian speaker might have been able to rustle up some homemade wine or even some chacha, according to Istanbul Eats (which, consume at your own risk).

Our review: Hopes still high, we're going to go back at a different time. Georgian in Istanbul deserves all the support we can give it.

Cafe Euro is at the entrance to the heretofore unknown to Carpetblog giant bus station in Aksaray, on Kucuk Langa Cad.

 

 

Ask Carpetblogger: Where Are the Ukrainian Cougars?

It's a fact that, many years ago, Carpetblog established itself as the go-to internet source for devushka fashion, to the point where we became known as the Wikipedia of Slutty Dressing. Those were the salad days of Carpetblog. They represented the height of our influence.

Since then, we left Ukraine and, to the detriment of this blog's SEO, delved into topics such as Turknology and importing booze and pork. Like the Ottoman Empire, Carpetblog went into a long, sloppy decline. Furthermore, on the aging lady scale, we inched away from Devushkastan and slid closer to, some have (uncharitably) argued, Cougartown.

Do you not know what a Cougar is? Do you live under a rock? Have you heard of Google?

Some have speculated that there's a precipitous drop in the physical fortunes of Ukrainian women post-age 35 (more accurately, we less genetically-gifted sisters -- ROWR! -- speculate). Surely there must be an intermediate stage between devushka and babushka! So we set out to answer the question "Where are all the Ukrainian cougars?"

We recently found ourselves in Cherkassy, which is the dead center of Ukraine, about two and a half hours south of Kyiv. It is a provincial, very Ukrainian city -- and we mean that not in the way Ukie nationalists mean it (a model European Ukraine that looks westward) but in the way Ukraine is now. It sits in the black-earth prairies, frozen for the winter, alongside one of the Soviet Union's largest hydroelectric reservoirs. Russian-leaning eastern Ukraine is just over the next snowy hillock and European western Ukraine seems pretty far away from here. Its slushy downtown is a grey post-war Soviet time capsule. Pulling out the Ukraine cliche handbook (shelved next to the Istanbul cliche handbook) it is the borderland where Russia and Ukraine melt, and residents speak a mix of both languages.

Also, there be Cougars!

Not only were we lucky enough to find ourselves in Cherkassy in the middle of winter, it happened to be "Old New Years Eve," or the Orthodox New Years. This meant that the town was decked out as if Christmas was just last week (it was) and everyone was looking forward New Years Eve celebrations instead of a cold Thursday night in the Dnipro Hotel, like we were.

Most restaurants that serve Ukrainian food are decked out like rural cottages, with fake thatched roofs, farm implements on the walls and lots of red and white embroidered schwag  draped across flat surfaces. This would be kitschy if it wasn't how every traditional Ukrainian restuarant -- even Ukie fast food places  -- is decorated. They also usually have a series of intimate dining rooms and small alcoves for private parties or uh, other activities. We had an early reservation at Taras Bulbas, a model specimen of the type, expecting a quick meal of salo (pure pork fat, pictured), swine shashlyk and a bit of vodka with colleagues.

If you seek Felis Concolor Ukrainis, head to Taras Bulbas in Cherkassy on Old New Years Eve. There were several tables of them, well-lubricated by sweet Ukie shampansky (which they freely shared) and ready to burn the place down. By 7:30pm. Taras Bulbas' house band consists of a young, crewcut, acned Ukrainian accordion player and an African tambourine player (welcome to heaven, here's your tambourine. Welcome to hell, here's your accordion) who whipped the place into a frenzy of anticipation for Dede Moroz (father Christmas, the Orthodox Santa Claus) and his trusty...wait for it...Rabbit of Good Luck.

The Cougars, dressed to kill in too-short skirts and tight shirts, writhed and wriggled to 70's western and eastern Ukrainian pop songs (our colleagues taught us how to tell the difference) and Russian  favorites (different still), just like Cougars in Americastan would to Donna Summer. Later, at least one of them was caught in a sex act in one of the private alcoves (memo to self: don't go exploring other dining areas at 9:00 pm in Taras Bulbas on Old New Years Eve. Also, be careful of the cougar sitting behind you.)

Having had three shots of "rye and honey" Ukrainian vodka before the first plate of pickles arrived, the evening was destined to be a short one for us. Since we're no longer in FSU championship fighting form, we stumbled into a taxi to return to the Dnipro hotel, relieved that Ukraine is big enough for both devushkas and cougars after all.

 

Ask Carpetblogger: What Should I Wear With My Devushka Boots?

Just this evening, Carpetblog received the following query from Suze, college roommate and well-known gossip columnist:

"The real reason I write is to seek your advice in an area in which you are an expert.  My husband gave me Devushka boots for Christmas.  What should I wear with them?"

R u for serious? Regular Carpetblog readers should be able to predict our response to this question. Those are MAN BOOTS!  Those are what you wear to go hiking. Call us when those heels are increased by a factor of three or four and we'll recommend some rabbit fur accessories and a couple of those skirts you wore sophomore year.

And then it occurred to us. Suze WAS a devushka in college --a Scottish/Irish/Catholic devushka. We feel comfortable living among devushkas as an adult because we spent so much of our formative years observing a devushka and her curling iron in her native habitat.

Unfortunately, since it was the late 80's, there are no digital photos of my devushka college roommate in my vast library, but I would happily replace this facsimile with the real thing, should a helpful reader scan and email one.

I think Suze had boots just like this freshman year. Of course, now she's a respected corporate lawyer/environmental activist and has matured, as 40 year olds with two kids tend to do.

What Would Happen if Ukraine Invaded Rostov

Here's a recruitment ad for the Ukrainian army.

Though seriously, I don't know where they found those good looking army recruits. The devushkas look like they were imported from Kherson or Mikolayev in 1994.

Thanks to Josh for the heads up!

It's September in Kyiv

And it's getting cooler. That means the skirts don't get longer but the boots get taller. If you're not familiar with the principles of devushka fashion, you'd better read up first.

We're in a shoulder season here in Kyiv. It's still too warm for cropped puffy jackets and pink fake rabbit fur, and black wool coats trimmed with dog fur are still a month or two away. Stiletto sandals are out, but stiletto boots are in, in, in. Tampon-string skirts are never out of fashion, nor are camel toe jeans.  Be sure to accessorize liberally -- winter, spring, summer or fall -- with sequins, crystals, rhinestones, fishnets, brass studs and superfluous buckles!

Let's take a look at what's hot on the streets of Kyiv this season.

While her tampon string was not visible, the tops of her stockings were.

Admire the whole devushka package here: Mobilichka in use, black fake handbag, lots of ruches and boots that serve as both hosiery and footwear!

Those heels are pretty low.

As an experienced Devuska photographer, I never produce quality work when I position myself in prime territory and wait for them. I do my most creative work when I rip my camera out of my bag, dropping pens and receipts on the ground, in order to capture an iconic devushka as she clacks by, supported by the arm of a much less attractive friend. A smart devushka knows that when promenading on Khryshatik on Friday evening, an accessory more valuable than an animal print catsuit is a less attractive friend.

Alas, sometimes quality suffers for spontaneity

If knee-high white boots are wrong, I don't want to be right!

Alas nothing is more fleeting than youth.

Watch Out, Devushkas!

Carpetblogger is coming back to Kyiv for a stay of moderate length (three weeks!).

Shall I pack my ice-pick sandals or is it stiletto boot season yet? I bet pink cropped rabbit fur is already visible on Kryshatik on Saturday nights! Don't try talk me out of it.

On the agenda: Pork.

Watch out for the long-overdue post on Crazy Menus.

If Southwest Airlines Had Flights to Kyiv

They would all be flying with empty planes if they started playing fashion police, like they did in San Diego this week.

Would you kick this woman off your dirty 737? We didn't think so

This woman is dressed modestly by Devushka standards. Those are MEN'S shoes, for crying out loud.

If that airline hopes to compete against Aeroflot, AeroSvit or even AeroDon (which btw, given Southwest's service standards, is a pretty fair match in the marketplace), they might want to dump the passenger dress code.

Southwest may not know it yet, but they are totally the official Devushka airline.

Carpetblog suggests: Southwest Airlines! Embrace your inner devushka. Is there that big of a difference between the LAX-LAS and KBP-IST commuter flights? No, there is not. Do a little market research. Don't fight it and stop trying to be something you are not.

Back on the Devushka Beat!

The only Russian outrage I can imagine being sparked by the Moscow TsUM running ads that suggest six year olds will be social outcasts if they don't wear Prada is that they waited until the kids were six to start targeting them.

In a series of cartoons, a girl of about six is shown sneering at the childish pleasures of life.

One shows her turning her back on her teddy bear and toy bunny, saying: "I don't need you two any more. Now all I'm interested in is clothes."

In another she tells the unhappy bear: "You are unfashionable! Farewell!"

Everyone knows devushka training needs to start a lot earlier than six to be effective.

via Jezebel