Carpetblogger

Hey, Unaccompanied Lady -- That's Carpetblog Territory!

Someone is moving in on our territory!

The Unaccompanied Lady tells you what to wear.

 

The Unaccompanied Lady Wastes Time in Islamabad

People like to ask the Unaccompanied Lady, "what do you do with your unaccompanied self when you're in Islamabad for two weeks?" Since the answer "fuck-all" rarely satisfies anyone, and the Unaccompanied Lady cannot spend all her non-working hours in sitting in the guesthouse under the AC, we have come up with a few suggestions for time-wasting in a city where there is very little to actually "do."

Shalwar shopping: As you know, to avoid drawing attention to herself or being mistaken for a frumpy missionary, the Unaccompanied Lady "goes native" in Pakistan. Shalwar shopping in Islamabad is fun because the shops are staffed by men yet women are the only customers. Ladies freely give the shop guys the what-for, treating them with the haughty disdain they deserve. Feel extra sloppy as groups of young Pakistani women, draped in the kind colorful, cute shalwar that you can never find, glide in and out of the shops like pretty birds, never dropping their dupatta (the long scarfy thing that covers your shoulders) in the dust or tripping over it. Perhaps next time you can ask them to show you how they wear such an annoying, yet potentially attractive, garment with style and dignity.

The Unaccompanied Lady recommends: the cheap and cheerful shalwar shops in Jinnah Market, near Pizza Hut.

Mango Eating: The Unaccompanied Lady can only handle so much Pakistani BBQ before she breaks out in the greasy ghee meat sweats. Besides Islamic extremists, Pakistan excels most in the production of mangoes. Lucky for us it's June, which means it's the season. Can an Unaccompanied Lady survive on mangoes, and their slimy, but equally delicious little friends, lychees, for two weeks? Stay tuned.

The Unaccompanied Lady recommends getting your mangoes from any old vendor, but get the biggest ones. They're the best.

Food Shopping: Islamabad's small supermarkets serve as another reminder that the globalization of cuisine has completely passed Turkey by. You can buy every imaginable American junk food (pop tarts! doritos! cake mix -- though even we don't buy that shit any more after reading this), sauce, canned good or spice mix, at reasonable prices. Not only that, there must be Chinese and other Asian people in Islamabad (those Chinese are everywhere these days!) because there are things Chinese and other Asian people like to eat: lime leaves, lemon grass, fish sauce, wasabi, seaweed and miso soup mix, none of which are available in Istanbul, a city approximately 14 times the size of Islamabad. We are no longer embarrassed to say, "yes, we import food from Islamabad to Istanbul."

The Unaccompanied Lady recommends the shops in Khosar Market.

The Nirvana Spa: One of the best parts about working in shitty places is there are very often excellent reasonably-priced spas offering innovative treatments you're unlikely to find anywhere else. The Nirvana spa falls into that category. In fact, it is so awesome that we will go multiple times for all kinds of cheap delights like pedicures, massages and sessions with the "vibrating de-fatting apparatus, which utilizes vibration to soften and break-up excessive fat build-up in specific parts of the body." Waxing is so cheap maybe we'll go Muslim and wax our whole body. It's cheaper and less effort than shaving.

The Unaccompanied Lady recommends the Hot Stone Massage at Nirvana.

Culture: The Unaccompanied Lady typically recommends cultural activities because culture is important. Sadly, we visited the Lak Virsa Ethnological Museum only to find out that, while technically open, it had no electricity. Because Islamabad enjoys an uninterrupted supply of electricity for about 15 minutes a day, we suspect this is not a state affairs that will have improved if we "come back tomorrow," as suggested. As we poked inside the door to see whether a dark ethnological museum might still be worth the $2 entry fee, the guards described the interior as "like midnight." They were not wrong.

The Unaccompanied Lady recommends going shopping instead of to the Lak Virsa Ethnological Musuem.

Carpet College: There is a wealth of knowledge idly sitting around, waiting for customers in the Jinnah and Super Markets, wasting time, just like you. What are you waiting for? Go bug them! Make them unfold and refold 172 carpets in 105 degree heat! They like it!

The Unaccompanied Lady spends hours talking to Pashtun carpet dealers (most of them are Afghans) about everything related to carpets. They are not predatory jerks like in Istanbul's Grand Bazaar and some of them actually know what they're talking about. Drink tea and talk about patterns, geopolitics, sheep breeds, Pashtun tribes, cotton prices and trade transit routes until the generators kick in and it's time for Unaccompanied Ladies to go home. Have them show you their most expensive pieces and, after you have a heart attack because they are so beautiful and you can't afford them, make the guy tell you why that one is more expensive than this one. Feel your mind get larger and your understanding of the world broader by earning a Masters in Warp and Weft at Carpet College.*

The Unaccompanied Lady recommends Niqash Carpet, near Mr. Books in Super Market, and Herat Shop in Jinnah Market.

 *The Carpetblog Carpetbuying Manifesto is coming. It's not ripe yet. Please stand by.

 

A Conversation About Buying a Suit in the FSU

It only took a short visit to Tbilisi -- our first trip back to the FSU in a year -- to make us realize that the FSU is our creative homeland. We have DOZENS (well, ok, four or five) posts ready to go in our head that were inspired by actual events over a long Thanksgiving weekend.

Maybe Turkey isn't as hilarious or maybe long-term Turkey expats aren't as entertaining as those who have been wintering in Kyiv for a half dozen years or more, but holy crap, we have a rich vein of ridiculousness.

Anyway! Let's get down to it.

We sat down with Borko of Nenand's Murse, an up-and-coming blog that explains things about Europe that Americans don't understand. And to be clear, Borko uses the Eurovision definition of "Europe," which pretty much includes Kazakhstan. Eurovision, of which Borko is a world-reknown expert, sets the gold standard, other than soccer, for things about Europe that Americans don't understand (American seven year-olds understand soccer, though. No one understands Eurovision).

Borko has been living in the FSU almost since it was the regular kind of SU, and believe you me, you can tell.  Here's a transcript of a conversation, which took place at an outside table at a bar in Tbilisi's Old City. Alcohol *may* have been a factor, but it was after 11am, so no flag on the play.

Borko (B):  "I bought two Hugo Boss suits in Kyiv, but I noticed a tag on the sleeve that said "Made in Bulgaria." I had to rip it off right away. I can't believe I bought a suit made in Bulgaria."

Carpetblogger (CB): "Did you notice anything else wrong with the suit?"

B: "No, why?"

CB:  "How shiny was it?"

B: "It wasn't shiny at all! It's Hugo Boss."

CB: "Right. My bad. Hugo Boss became the favored brand of oligarchs from Donetsk, taxi drivers from Batumi and gangsters from Varna by skimping on the shine."

B: "You're wrong, CB! Hugo Boss is a very stylish brand for suits."

We mulled the statement for a moment, thinking of recent insecurity experienced while shopping for skirts to wear to Paris. "Is this stylish or retarded?" went through our head, after it occurred to us that we have no idea what 40+ year old consultants whose "work" wardrobe consists primarily of yoga pants wear in "business situations" in normal countries.

But maybe we have more self-awareness than Borko. We think that making a bad shopping choice in Crapistan could be like, in 1985, wearing the JC Penny's galloping horse on your Catholic school uniform polo shirt -- rather than the real polo player -- only you wouldn't be painfully, horribly aware that what you're wearing wasn't quite right in subtle but important ways. Borko trotting around in a suit with a bit too much shine not only would not know that people were silently mocking him ("Where's he from? Kharkiv?") he would think they were admiring him and walk about with the confidence of someone who is tres a la mode.

Sure, tres a la mode in Minsk. (Do you not remember the principles of FSU fashion?)

CB: "Has anyone who doesn't live in the FSU examined that suit for shine?"

B: "No! It doesn't make any difference! Besides, I paid $600 for two suits. They're not shiny."

CB: "Oh, I think it makes a difference. Did you buy shoes to go with it?"

B (getting increasingly agitated at the direction the conversation): "NOT SHINY."

CB: "OK, I believe you. They wouldn't make anything shiny in Bulgaria."

We decided that Borko was in too deep and wasn't going to arrive at the correct conclusion without some assistance.  If we didn't take action, he was going to wear that Bulgarian Hugo Boss on K Street in Washington DC. While we would find that personally entertaining, we decided to graphically present his choices using a tool we knew he'd understand.

A scatter graph!

Even after this, Borko fought and fought, and even revisited the topic later in the weekend ("Brown suits can't be shiny!" ORILY?) but we knew the battle had been won.

We received an SMS tonight: "OK, there might be the slightest sheen on my Bulgarian "Hugo Boss" suit."

Carpetblogger offers fashion consultations for long-term FSU residents. Hourly rates apply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ask Carpetblogger: What are you wearing?

It seems like everyone these days is asking, “Hey Carpetblogger, what are you wearing?” We attribute this sudden surge of interest in our wardrobe not to a switch in careers but to recent preparations for our Ramadan trip to Yemen and Saudi Arabia. 

Our recent foray into online shopping for modest yet fashionable clothing at the desertstore.com was an epic fail. Instead of admiring the contrast between the photos of the all –male Saudi management and all-male south Asian tailors on its website, we should have been asking “on what women are they fitting these clothes to make sure components such as breasts, shoulders and hips are accounted for in their designs?” The sizes we bought were so far off the mark that it made us wonder if the designers and tailors had ever actually seen a live woman. Memo to self:  even if it sounds like fun, don’t buy clothes online from Saudi Arabia.

Because no one wants to spend money on unattractive, unflattering, poorly designed clothes that suggest medieval attitudes toward women, we delayed this little adventure until a mere hours before our plane was to depart for Sana’a. (it should come as news to no one who reads Carpetblog regularly that, while we appreciate the  institutionalized myths around which people structure their lives, we don’t really respect them.

Lucky for us, we live in a Muslim country! Several of our modest contemporaries suggested our best bet for value, selection and convenience was the IMÇ shopping outlet in Fatıh, one of Istanbul’s most fashionably observant neighborhoods.

In addition to Modest Clothing, you can buy anything at IMÇ as long as it’s floor coverings, upholstery, industrial sewing machines and musical instruments. Our modest contemporaries failed to mention that in order to locate the Modest Clothing section, one must navigate IMÇ’s five grey, multi-story soviet-style blocks. The mosaic art that failed miserably to add any visual interest to the drabness (dated 1965, too) confirmed that whoever designed the place studied at the Krushchev School of Retail Design. Failing to understand its logic, I located the Modest Clothing block tucked amongst musical instruments, last (see how long I’ve been out of the FSU?).

Our original shopping plan included a gay (or gay-wannabe) advisor, but that would have been a disaster in this all-female cocoon. The reaction of the modestly dressed sales girls to us, in shorts and a t-shirt purchasing tunics, ankle-length jackets and pantalons, ranged from bemused curiosity to matronly patience to giggly enthusiasm. Even so, we found the cultural, linguistic and stylistic gap impossible to bridge. Not only did nothing they propose appeal, we lacked the linguistic ability to communicate how to improve their suggestions.

We ended up buying four of the exact same tunics in different colors, a long coat that, while not an abaya, we’re counting on to mitigate potential conflicts with the Saudi religious police and something shiny for the glamorous iftar to which we have not yet been invited.

So with a new wardrobe like this, it’s easy to understand why interest in what Carpetblogger is wearing is running higher than usual among those outside our typical constituency.

Carpetblog Recommends: The Desert Store

Carpetblogger loves to shop and we love a challenge! We are here to announce our discovery of an on-line store we've discovered that has everything for the fashionable AND modest woman!

And, for the woman who is neither but has to go to Saudi Arabia.

Like all business travel, this trip presents wardrobe-related logistical challenges for girls. To start with, it's not just Saudi, but includes Pakistan and Yemen as well. Both have slightly differing standards of female modesty. Second, it's August, which means it will be 150 degrees and humid in seaside Jedd-ah and tail end of monsoon in Islamabad. Sana'a sits at 7500 feet. The only way this trip could suck more is if it fell in September, which is Ramadan, and included a visit to Kabul. (Vigilant ancestors will be pleased to know the Afghanistan portion of the trip has been canceled out of security concerns).

Our current wardrobe, while completely appropriate for "consulting" from the couch in Istanbul, doesn't quite meet Wahabbist standards for female modesty or anyone else's definition of "professional" or "attractive." You'd think that, as a resident of a city that has one or two Muslims, we'd be able to find something suitable without a lot of effort. The Grand Bazaar is a good place to shop if you want to  dress like a housewife from Fatih or like sequins. However, as it is hot, crowded and disorganized, shopping there demands substantially more effort than we wanted to devote to this project.

Our biggest clothes-related question has been "how much can we get away with?" Since Jedd-ah is the Berkeley of Saudi Arabia, an abaya may be optional (it isn't in Riyadh). It's difficult to articulate just how much we don't want to wear such a garment in summer Gulf heat. We understand that women do it all the time -- women who are not us. Last time we were in Pakistan, we purchased a shalwar and wore it all the time, not because we wanted to be respectful but because it deflected the attention of thousands of horny Pakistanis. We have no idea what to wear in Yemen, but assume something long and sack-like is expected.

Surely, the internets would have the answer to our problems.

We found The Desert Store and many problems were solved. The Desert Store is a Saudi-based on-line store offering "Islamic Clothing for the Family." I found their offerings to be both fashionable (well...) and reasonably priced! They provide the uniforms for Saudia flight crews (which I anticipate being able to assess personally), which established them, in my eyes, as a legitimate design house. And the chance to use a credit card to purchase on-line from a store in Saudi Arabia proved irresistible. The site is simple and well-organized and clearly written in a language recognizable as English. They promise delivery via DHL. There are helpful photos of management (all Saudi) and workers (all Southeast Asian). Their common characteristic appears to be a penis.

  After scouring the site and resisting the temptation to purchase Miswak (alert readers will recall it was -- and still is -- our favorite flavor of toothpaste), we settled on two tunic blouses and a skirt that we are certain will keep the religious police off our infidel ass. We already own 5000 head-scarves so didn't purchase the Saudi-style chador, which, at $7.50 seemed like a real bargain.

So, should you find yourself in the position of having to find yourself some modest clothing for your next trip to the Gulf, we highly recommend The Desert Store.

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.

The Anti-Devushka Goes to the Beach

Fun T-Shirts

Our friend Wu Wei posts about the woes of a British store that didn't check the online translator before buying a bunch of T-shirts that said "We Will Cleanse Russia of All Non-Russians," a more typical yet less benign slogan than "Be Proud of Russia," which is what they thought the shirts said.

I have acquired some fun t-shirts too. For the most part I know what they say.

I got this one from our local Ukrainian nationalist bookstore in Kyiv. The faces are Leonid Kravchuk (1991-1994), Leonid Kuchma (1994-2005) and Viktor Yushchenko (2005- present). It says "All Presidents Are The Same."

In many ways this is true. A lot of presidents, it turns out, are complete retards. However, only one President was poisoned with dioxin.

This is one of the world's most recognizable brands: Hezbollah. Not sure exactly what it says, but I can't wait to wear it on my next flight to the U.S.

Prudently, I had my Ukrainian friend translate the shirts before I bought them at the nationalist bookstore. He described this one as the Ukrainian nationalist and anarchist Nestor Makhno. Because Ukrainian Nationalists are known for many things, one of which is killing Jews and Poles, I suggested that the Producer might want to run a quick wikipedia search on Nestor before wearing this shirt around town. Turns out that ol' Nestor and the Makhnovists (that might be my new band name) criticized the Bolsheviks for their moderation but were less pogrom-prone than others.  In some circles, he was dismissed as a "drunken bandit." Wear with confidence!

Ask Carpetblogger: How Can I Tell if The Seasons Are Changing in Kyiv?

If you want objective, clinical data, you can rely, like everyone one else, on the calendar. Alternatively, if you place no faith in such tools of oppression employed by The Man, the changing of the leaves and snow flurries can also give you broad outline of the path the earth is taking around the sun.

But Ukraine is a complicated place. There's a lot going on beneath the surface, undetectable to the untrained eye.

Monkeys in Kyiv could identify its four seasons without a problem: the day ice starts to melt and the sound of moving water  enters urban soundscape; the first outdoor beer and shashlyk at Kafe Bogatir; the first time you get pinged in the head by a falling kashtan (chestnut); the first time a carpetdog's pee freezes into a yellow icicle when he lifts his leg.

But, as with most questions in Kyiv, one must consult the Devushka oracle to get a complete answer.

Kyiv has micro-seasons. If you fail to pay careful attention to the wardrobe selections made by its young female residents, you may not notice them.

For example, anyone with eyes can see it's over-the-knee, black stiletto boot season. It arrived about a month ago, pushing late summer's open-toed sandal-style stilettos to dark closet recesses. Its arrival coincided with the season of fading Antalya package tour tans and fraying of madcap summer holiday cornrows.

Away went the cropped, tramp-stamp revealing tops and out came the cropped, puffy, rabbit-fur jackets, in a rainbow of colors that do not appear in nature.

This lasted about a month. Now it's starting to get seriously cold, yet skirts still reveal far more than many people want to see. Won't these girls make the slightest concession to personal comfort and insulate their labia?

Of course not.

The coats simply get longer. Heavy black, ankle-length wool (sometimes dog fur purchased at mink prices) makes it possible for Devushkas to keep their femininity intact even if it's 25 degrees below. Those heavy-duty nude extra-shiny support nylons, the kind you were told to wear as a teenager because they would "make your legs look tan," if by tan one means "glowing like radioactive nougat," serve as extra insulation.

So, when do over-the-knee, black stiletto boots go out of season? Surely when Kyiv's sidewalks are coated with a layer of ice? That's where you're wrong. Stiletto heels NEVER go out of fashion in Ukraine. In fact, some Devushkas might argue that the spikes may provide increased traction when walking down icy streets.

If you learn nothing else from this blog, remember that whatever the question, Devushkas hold the answer,

The Wikipedia of Slutty Dressing

I've been searching for a niche, and I think Mr. Copydude has generously suggested a winner.

"Fat cat suits are quite a study. Recently the Carpetblogger - fast becoming the Wikipedia of  Slutty Dressing - promised to enlighten us about male fashions. I’m hoping there will be a section on Elitny Dress Code. (I’d also like to know whether ‘Fat Catsuit’ should be written as two or three words. Short of a Style Guide here.)"

You have definitely tossed down the gauntlet, CD. With all the Donestski moving to town, I'd better giddyup and start mining this rich vein.