Souks, Silk, Saffron: A Return to Self
Istanbul was my factory reset this last summer. I was creatively and emotionally burned out, drained from Olive’s leg surgery and everything that followed, and honestly, I had been avoiding healing for far too long. I’d broken up with someone and carried heavy guilt for it as he dealt with loss and grief in glamorous destinations, plastered on social media while I was unhappy and trying to navigate so much of my own life. Grief is complex, but I had hit a breaking point in yet another dead-end relationship and was like, well, screw all of this!! I need to get my mojo back. Olive was safe and happy rehabbing with my mom in Idaho, but I couldn’t sit on the couch with her for another month. My mental health was declining as I was working nonstop and tending to her. I needed an escape, something to shake off the weight I’d been carrying for me and everybody else—so I booked the flight. Total Eat, Pray, Love moment. Cliché. I know. But honestly, I wasn’t there to sightsee and find love. Full transparency: I was initially drawn to the city because I saw a health tourism TikTok that intrigued me. I also wanted to check my heartbreak into a hammam and go wild at a med spa. Also, I live for Turkish food, so what’s more healing than a total rejuvenation and plates of Turkish delicacies? What I didn’t expect was that Istanbul would become more than a mere getaway—it would be the place where I found not just healing, but inspiration, clarity, and a new wave of creativity.
I stayed in various neighborhoods in both hotels and B&Bs. My favorite was a charming Airbnb in Bebek that overlooked the Bosphorus—a neighborhood that was upscale and elegant, with beautiful little shops and restaurants near the water. The area felt like a creative haven, yet with the understated elegance that’s typical of Istanbul. I spent my days wandering through cobblestone streets, finding hidden cafes, and listening to the call to prayer as I sipped Turkish tea. I went to souks, bought saffron and loose-leaf teas, and was scrubbed and soaked in the oldest hammam in the city. The hammam was one of my favorite travel experiences of all time. Top 3.
Ugh, there’s just really nothing better than solo travel—being on your own allows you to truly connect with yourself, learn how to be comfortable in your own company, figure out how you really like to travel, and embrace the freedom to explore at your own pace. With no one rushing you. No agenda but your own. I’ve found that I love productive travel. I live on a beach in a bikini year-round, so when I travel, I’d much rather find an old ceramic studio and take a class or wander through bookstores and trinket treasure shops vs. boat or lay on a beach. My friend Kat and I tried guided tours in Rome one summer, and that wasn’t for me (or her) either. We ended up shotguning a beer outside of a cathedral day two at 9 AM. Jackass behavior story for another time. Can’t always be classy and still THIS fun.
After some time spent solo in Istanbul, I got a message from my best friend, Julia, who was randomly going to be in Istanbul for a wedding: “Just checked into our B&B!” I checked her location, and in the vastness of Istanbul, she was a block away from me. Completely unplanned. This is the kind of deep, spiritual connection Julia and I have—always in sync, even when we’re miles apart.
We ended up having the kind of time you can’t fully describe. We were thriving and dipping headfirst into a seriously delicious culture. There was something about being together in Istanbul—our two little old souls completely in tune, reconnecting over beautiful meals in a city that felt like magic itself.
One Istanbul afternoon, I found myself getting lost in the textile district—away from the touristy streets, yet exactly where I needed to be. As I wandered through the bustling alleys lined with fabrics in every imaginable color and sheen, I could feel creativity seeping back in. I was ready to create in that moment, though I didn’t even know how or where it would happen.
That’s when I met him—a young, cute fabric dealer with a knowing smile and an easy charm. He could tell I was looking for something. Sis, when I tell you I started burning UP Google Translate, with questions and big flirts... I dished the charm right back, knowing he would know who the good manufacturers were. I had my fabrics picked and told him my goals. I didn’t really know what my goal was though. I thought, well, if I can find someone to make a small lot of dresses, I’d totally do it. He made a few calls and asked if I wanted to meet with manufacturers right then and there. Without hesitation, he led me through the entire district like a maze—up narrow staircases and into the backrooms of a few different manufacturers’ factories, with my little fabric samples stapled to a sheet covered in Turkish and Arabic writing. Sounds sketchy, and it kinda was, sorry, Dad, if you’re reading this—I hope you took your blood pressure medication today. The first two stops were insightful, but I hadn’t found the right fit. The first showroom was beautiful and smelled like heaven. You already know I was burning up Google Translate again to source this smell immediately. Forget the clothes—FORGET ANY CLOTHES I WANTED TO BE NAKED SOAKING MY BODY IN THIS SMELL. She wrote down the brand of the diffuser that sat in her glossy, perfectly curated showroom, and we were off. The fabric dealer ended up actually taking me to THE perfumery between manufacturer appointments. I bought the scent in every form—perfume, hair perfume, body lotion, candle, etc. On a daily basis, I still get stopped by strangers who probably think I’m a gatekeeping brat when I say, “YoU cAn onLy gEt it in IstAnbul.” At the next manufacturer, I was surrounded by bolts of rich silks, linens, and cottons that felt like they had their own stories to tell, but I wasn’t convinced and didn’t want to get taken $$$ wise, so I was just present in the experience, just to see and for the plot.
The fabric dealer and none of the manufacturers spoke English, so there we were—me, the dealer, manufacturers, using Translate all day to communicate every step of the way. It could have felt awkward, but instead, it felt like an adventure, and energy never lies. The universal language of creativity and the tables of Turkish delicacies seemed to bridge the gap. Despite the language barrier, I felt more connected to the fabrics, the people, and the space around me than I had in months.
As we moved on to the third and fourth stops, I could feel the momentum building, but also some creeping doubt. Like… at this point, maybe I just want a dress made for me? Forget manufacturing a small line? I was thinking, “Oh gosh, it’s just a dream. I mean, it’s going to be so expensive anyways to get various silk samples made, minimum orders, etc.” Mind you, I self-fund my life. I am frivolous and worldly and a bit impulsive. So, like, I do well enough to do these things, but to start a brand out of thin air with no experience, it’s a lot. I had just finished my swim and resort line. I’m always about a good deal/right fit too—I wasn’t going to accept some outrageous amount to have samples made or be pressured into making 50+ dresses without going through a proper sample/fitting process. But something I had not lost was my sense of gratefulness, and I feel like that’s what was inviting in these experiences and opening doors I would have never imagined.
At the last stop/meeting, we went up like 20 flights of stairs in this ancient, beautiful building and into this showroom filled with racks upon racks of dresses. I was immediately greeted by all Turkish women. The two in charge were a mother-daughter duo, with the daughter, my age, speaking perfect English. Immediate connection and felt like a divine match. We yapped over Turkish coffee and pastries, sketched the designs I had in mind, and negotiated samples. Mmmm yeah, mommy negotiatedddd. Only had to run one of each dress and paid 500 euro total, including the fabric for 3 samples, one of which was 100% silk. I had to be in Budapest following Istanbul for a week for work, so I agreed to fly back, stop by on my way home to do a fitting and review the samples. We made a beautiful 100% pure silk Turkish event gown in emerald silk, an ultra-soft Turkish cotton jersey blend long knit dress in white, and a black sheer jersey mesh, sexy, floor-length, long-sleeve dress. Each dress felt like a representation of Istanbul—elegant, soft/warm, sexy. I’m now in the final process with these dresses and am learning so much. Import taxes be CRAZY.
In adulthood, we have very few true surprises in life. Like, Christmas morning just doesn’t hit the same. I don’t know if I want to know the sex of my firstborn child because I really want to be SURPRISED. I used to think I hated surprises, but I’m not as much of a control freak as I thought I was. CLEARLY not, here I am in the middle of Istanbul totally winging it by myself. So, I fly back into Istanbul after Budapest for 24 hours, meet with the women one final time, and try on the dresses. I’m almost speechless. The dresses fit like a glove. They were perfect.
Istanbul felt like a return home, and so for that, I totally believe I was a Turkish hammam cat in a previous lifetime. As I prepare to showcase my collection at the Curio in Miami, I feel the quiet hum of gratitude that accompanies all moments of growth. This whole experience—surrendering to the unknown, allowing space for creativity to flow, and finding beauty in unexpected places—has been transformative. It wasn’t just the food or the fabrics, but the energy of the city itself that healed me.
I’m no longer just chasing a creative high or forcing an outcome. I’ve learned to trust the process, to embrace the unknown, and to welcome the magic that comes from simply being—whether in the streets of Istanbul or in the quiet moments of my own life. Every interaction, every sip of Turkish tea, every step through those vibrant souks, brought me closer to the version of myself I’ve been searching for.
So here I am, with new dresses and a clearer heart, ready for the next chapter. The future feels a little less intimidating and a lot more exciting. And, if I’m being honest, I can’t wait to see where this creative venture will take me next.
