(Un)necessary souvenir from Istanbul, Turkey.

We all make bad choices…shopping choices, life choices, new-bad haircut choices… or no, wait, I should be more specific: I happen to make bad choices.

So I just switched apartments this month (read: was forced by a huge life change to move out from a lovely apartment into a rat hole). And while I was packing my life into boxes I experienced that strange feeling of shame (of myself) for the first time in my entire life. Well, it hit me so hard that I actually stayed in front of a bathroom mirror and whipped myself with a long leather stick screaming shame on you Natalia, shame on you (no pictures were taken, sorry I know you might’ve liked to see that).
Why would I do that? Well, it all started the very same week while I was starting getting packed before the moving company was going to pick up my boxes. And suddenly I ran out of empty boxes. And I mean it, I emptied only one wardrobe and there were no more free boxes and too many already full ones.

That is bad – I thought and a great idea popped up in my head: I should get rid of clothes and shit I haven’t been using in a year! You should have seen my face of “you are acting like a real adult” and “you rock girl”. And it was kind of fun until I realized I had like 6 huge boxes of shit to throw away and only one lonely sad box of things I have been using this year.

What was in these 6 boxes, you may ask? Everything every twenty-something girl finds extremely necessary to own and store in her huge closet.
I just had to face the fact that a huge part of my money, which I earned working like crazy, was about to go f*** itself. In my defense, it wasn’t entirely my fault. I come from ex-communistic country, and storing absolutely everything and not throwing anything away because worse times might come was inherited in my genetic material.

As Monty Python had taught us, don’t be an ass and try to find something positive in every screwed situation you find yourself in (Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life). So I tried, and tried and the only positive thing I could find in my expensive boxes of shame was a green Turkish lamp made out of stained glass.

I got the lamp following the usual pattern (created by no one else but myself) of getting useless and expensive but pretty things.

Let me explain the story of THE LAMP: I was on a lovely trip to Istanbul ( I will write another post on this subject) and felt so amused by the mix of Byzantine & Ottoman cultures. And by the cosmopolitan but still exotic atmosphere of one of the most amazing cities I have ever visited, that I almost felt obligated (to me and to the great people of Turkey, I guess?) to bring a piece of it to Spain.

But how do I do that? – I thought.

Raki was not a choice as I happened to get sick as a dog the first night after having “some raki shots”. Clothes? Tsss, sure, that’s what I needed…another cheap rag! As the two things that I like most in life were out of choice I thought going with “a stylish piece of Turkish art” might do well.
So just like a normal occidental tourist would do, I went to the most touristic and expensive place in the city – The Grand Bazaar, got into one of those “souvenir stalls” and got myself a lamp (not a cheap one, I am not tacky!).


Sugar coated bar with pistachio nut (Turkey).
And of course I couldn’t resist getting myself a little treat (sugar coated bar with pistachio nut). 


It was about 50 cm tall with a huge shade and metal column. It actually looks nice when it is turned off. Oh wait, it is not why you buy lamps, right? You get them to actually turn them ON and get some light in your room, don’t you. Well, I hadn’t thought about it while buying it. These are the kind of things I used to realize about too late.

So once at home I turned my awesome stylish lamp on, and I couldn’t notice the difference between the lamp being turned off and turned on. Yes, the light was THAT dim. But don’t worry, I easily found her a responsible occupation in the house, staying proudly on the top book shelf and getting tons of dust.


Turkish lamp from Istanbul
My 20 centimeters (and €€ lost) of shame

Now, in my new rat hole in my new apartment, there is a better job for the lamp, staying on a dresser and pretending to be the most design-ish part of my teeny tiny bedroom (also, reminding myself to not spend money on unnecessary shit).



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