Th e Be y o ğ l ua r e ao f Is t a n b u li sr i d d l e dw i t h OLD PASSAGES, EACH ONE VERY MUCH T H EIR OWN
world, with walls that echo with intrigue worthy of an Ambler novel, or ring with raucous bellows of a beer house. Many of these passages have fallen prey to the bland hand of restoration while a lucky few cling precariously to colourful pasts, waiting for the good old days to return.
At first, Hacıpulo Pasan. with its brightly- lit, carnival-coloured trimming and notions stalls, hardly w arrants a second glance. Yet, looking closer, past the rusted scrolls of the main gate to the centre courtyard paved with fat, smooth cobblestones, you can almost imagine the legendary “spies” of the Forties, stumbling out of the nearby Rejans restaurant after a night filled with lemon vodka and secrets, to m eet a rendezvous at the passage’s aptly named “Danışman Geçidi” (Gate of
Information). Those were the days when Eva Kiracı, known as Madame Katia, reigned as Istanbul’s premiere milliner, having learned the craft from Pierrette Cartier, a Frenchwoman living in Istanbul during the 1930s. During the first half of the century, the ladies of prominent Greek, Jewish and Armenian families, along with the wives of diplomats from the elegant embassies of Pera, would flock to Madame Katia’s for the latest in Parisian head coverings. On Sundays, the crowd at the Church of Panaghia Eisodion, the Greek Orthodox church whose eastern gate leads to the passage’s courtyard, bobbed with colourful hats from across the square. Madame Katia’s proclamation, “one is not dressed until the hat goes on”, was strictly abided.
Madame Katia’s boutique still thrives and is now under the guidance of her daughter Katia, who at 12 learned the art of millinery from her mother. The
shop’s walls are cluttered with yellowed news
clippings of famous Turkish stars such as Fatma Girik and Türkan Şoray, bedecked in Madame Katia originals. Hats of every shape, fabric and style imaginable cascade off shelves or wait behind dusty glass vitrines for liberation.In the lean years following The Second World War, Madame Katia supplemented her income by renting her hats. Today, the fashion-fickle of Istanbul can still wear a different hat each night of the week, choosing between spun net picture hats, fedoras or kalpak — Ataturk’s favourite.
Nowadays, “revamping is the main trade of Hacıpulo
Pasajı as vendors do a brisk business in notions, trimmings and accessories — not exactly the stuff of spy novels, but as colourful at times.
Entering from istiklal Caddesi you reach shop No.l on the left, which deals in all things worthy of a harem outfit: gold fringe, silken tassles, sequined appliques and glitzy brocaded trim. The madame working the counter looks as if
she might be a good reference on how to design an authentic costume. Across the way is Müjdat Bijuteri, a glittering mecca of faux rhinestone accessories, most of which blan ket the entire back wall and counter in dazzling light. Strong is the person who can make a quick decision in this shop.
Shop No.3, Bizim Düğmeci (Our Button Man), is just that — a button-seller — with samples of his stock of thousands neatly displayed in rows against the wall. And if buttons won’t do the job, there is a flowing rainbow of coloured zippers for sale. Mehmet Acar, the taciturn proprietor at No. 50, specialises in imported buttons and has a nice range of Italian designs as well as a good knock-off of Yves St Laurent closures.
Recep Bey, the antiquarian proprietor of No. 18, looks as if he might own his own courtyard bench by now. When not dozing, he keeps alive the craft of button-covering. Giving
his Samsun cigarette a hearty inhale he silently
demonstrates how to make a fabric button using his old press. As insurance against a slow button trade, he also deals in neon-coloured sequins which are poured out for display in individual glass saucers.Next door at Camellia, two ladies deftly create silk flowers which they copy from catalogues and apply to dresses or hats. And those who wage a constant war with the dry cleaners over lost shoulder pads, can order their own personal back-up stock from shop No. 9.
On an average day, the passage is crowded with serious shoppers — women with a mission — and it is a good idea to
steer clear of their elbows
andbargaining
manoeuvres. Casual browsers will be scuttled out of the way, eventually relegated to the bright sunshine of the courtyard. If you are lucky, a wooden bench will be free, giving you the chance to watch the goings-on: stout, chattering women clomping to Madame Katia’s; worried bride-to-be’s leaving Gülsün’s wedding shop; and the shady vignettes played out in the upper windows of the decaying courtyard buildings. □T U R Q U O I S E 117
Kişisel Arşivlerde İstanbul Belleği Taha Toros Arşivi
