My Little Turkish Man

Salvar, a traditional pant worn by men and women throughout rural Turkey and by rural migrants in the cities, are admittedly funny-looking until you get used to them. Characterized by their low and baggy crotch, they are cousins of the better-known Pakistani Shalwar. I remember my first reaction to them, visiting my now-husband in Turkey for the first time; I'd found them just plain odd, and not at all attractive, especially since men often wear them with a dress shirt, a waistcoat and leather dress shoes.

But şalvar are seen everywhere in our little city, and they've somehow grown on me. I'd been planning to get a pair made for my son before we move to Istanbul this summer, a nod to his birthplace, but hadn't had time to visit one of the tailors in our local çarşı, or market. They wait in their three-metre-square shops, dark and cool despite the intense sun outside. Several pairs of şalvar hang ready made out front, or you can choose your fabric and wait while the tailor quickly stitches you a pair.

But last week, an old friend of my husband's visited us from Urfa, one of eastern Turkey's most historically fascinating cities, and one I'm dying to visit. And with him, he brought a pair of toddler-sized şalvar with beautiful pocket stitching and a matching waistcoat, or vest. I cannot wait for Baby to grow into them; in fact, I may just have to have a smaller pair made after all, so that I can see him in a pair of şalvar sooner!

Decorating the Nursery with ''Adult Art''

Over a year ago, when my current pregnant state was still just a distant prospect, I fell in love with and bought an Iranian folk art rug that I knew would make a perfect wall hanging in a baby's bedroom. The oddly-shaped and disproportionate animals, people, trees and buildings, the mountains, stream and green fields would provide hours of stimulating imaginative play for my child.

Earlier this week I made my second non-baby purchase for baby, and realized I much prefer ''adult art'' to purpose-specific nursery decor. In Istanbul for a few days over the Ramadan holiday earlier this week, we stumbled across an arts and crafts fair sponsored by the Beyoğlu municipal government. A stand of brightly painted two-dimensional marionette-type figures caught my eye. Painted in intricate detail on animal hide, these were true works of art.

The artist had hung several of them from the ceiling by a thread, and their transluscent nature allowed light to shine through, bringing the colours to life. I immediately thought two or three of them hung at different heights would make an excellent alternative to the traditional mobile. Other figures had been framed between two panes of glass, which I thought I'd have done once this and babies to follow outgrow their mobile.

Overwhelmed by the selection, I thought the two main characters, Karagöz and Hacivat, would be a good start. I did a little research and learned that these shadow play characters had been popular during Ottoman times. Karagöz was an illiterate but intelligent man, while Hacivat represented the educated class. Much to the delight of audiences, the latter was usually outwitted by the former.

I think that's probably enough ''adult art'' for the nursery, but will certainly balance the cute teddy bear bedding I've bought.