1998 New Year's–themed, published by SHOW TV Book Publishing; a set of 30 postcards on the theme of Garfield's "Vacation's Over," featuring the grumpy cat created by Jim Davis and his unforgettable group of supporting characters…
This wonderful series that I've kept since childhood, of which I could only mail 2–3 pages…
I'm sharing a few of the ones I have left with you too…
Note: This time it's 75% "me," 25% "fashion."
I love photos shared under the heading "Images from a New Year's enthusiast."
Whether it's a celebrity, an influencer, or an old familiar friend; even if there's an image of me in a colorful wig among them… I look again and again and have so much fun.
A table in disarray, the before-and-after silhouettes of the night, the belly dancing done on the authority granted by the drinks, the dances performed, the tangos danced, the National Anthem, and the closing.
I call this magnificent solitude.
The most beautiful form of solitude. The freest, most carefree, purest solitude—the kind that doesn't make you feel alone at all.
If a person can buy themselves a gift, in my opinion they don't need anyone.
Besides, who doesn't love teddy bears? This gift has no age, nor does it distinguish between man and woman.
I could buy a teddy bear for an 8-year-old child, send it to a teenager, or give it to my mother on her birthday.
If I bought one for my grandmother, for instance, she'd surely place it in that antique-filled display cabinet of hers; still.
Now, to sit crooked but speak straight—I've never received a gift I disliked on any New Year's.
Coffee drunk from mugs decorated with New Year's patterns has always been my favorite; all year round…
Long scarves, pom-pom beanies, tree-green clothes, bright red dresses…
They all have glittery, sequined versions that are never chosen at any time other than New Year's; even flared trousers, padded dresses, and velvet greens can have glitter and sequins, and it's not the least bit odd, never too much.
That's why I can receive any kind of colorful gift on New Year's—and so can you give them to me.
In my opinion, disliked gifts are also given by people who truly don't love or aren't loved.
Sorry.
Many brands have pursued a stockless and recyclable form of commerce—things like rental, collecting textile waste, personal tailor services, and "see it on yourself" AI infrastructures.
This is of course a magnificent step. But you're very late.
On the other hand, some brands continue by creating enormous collections for multiple seasons of the year, slapping tags with lots of zeros on garments that don't have a single wearable centimeter in their designs.
Moreover, to give fast consumption even more speed, they catch daily trends and even release weekly collections. You didn't hear wrong; within one week they determine the trend and put it on the shelves—doing whatever it takes: illustration, pattern, fabric, accessories, production.
Brands trying to manage both sides with equal weight are another matter entirely.
Well, of course, as the zeros on the tags that affect the wallet negatively keep increasing, the most colorful and fun gift-exchanging phase of the year bids farewell to the island with a cream bought from the chain stores of the old perfumeries.
I can't help but mention my grandmother again; this year too she's set aside my New Year's money, and I'll get it when I go to Ayvalık :)
There are certain videos; they feature the reactions of people who are given a puppy on New Year's or on birthdays.
I'm incredibly moved by those videos; old, young, children, and of course me—all of our eyes well up.
But in my opinion, no one can know anyone well enough to gift them a dog.
It's very important that it comes from the right time and the right person. If those two conditions are met, I'd probably go crazy with joy.
I kiss all the puppies.
I end up exactly at this point, especially after trips.
The suitcases are opened, all the dirty laundry is piled in the hallway in heaps to be washed by color, the shower and makeup products line up one by one on the stand to take their places in the bathroom, the jewelry bag has become a tangled mess; they're sorted according to which box they'll go into by category, the shoes are taken out of their bags one by one, wiped, and boxed, the souvenirs bought are carried to the guest room to be wrapped separately according to their recipients, and the indispensable part of travels—travel mementos—are arranged on the table, about to take their places on the shelves of the house.
So, amid all this commotion, once everything is handled regardless of order, I make a coffee and call my mother. I recount aaall the things I did one by one, savoring every detail, with the air of "I've handled everything, but come and ask me about it."
I suppose that no matter how much I do housework grudgingly, this suitcase-unpacking task—which is ultimately the sign that I've returned from a new trip I've traveled and seen, perhaps from a country on the other side of the world I went to for a New Year's party—is, I can say, the most convenient of household chores for me.
Of course, based on the postcard image, you thought I'd be talking about the gift-opening task everyone commonly loves—but never.
If there's one thing I won't grumble about, one thing I won't say "…oh, come and ask me about it" for, it's the moment gifts are opened.
I could probably open hundreds without saying a single word.
This year, at the top of the trends, we'll see the loose clothes that recur every few years, boyfriend-fit trousers and tops, and sweaters and t-shirts one or even two sizes too big.
We're taking a long leap from last year's minimalist line to maximalism.
Especially the plaids, stripes, laces, and polka dots already in our closets; a layered fashion—combined on top of one another, without regard for tone-on-tone or pattern coordination—has rapidly entered our lives.
Even the unused-but-can't-be-thrown-away accessories in our jewelry boxes will be used outside their purpose; necklaces will be wrapped around wrists, brooches will be fastened to sweaters to give them a different backdrop, summer wooden bangles will be worn over sweaters and jackets.
I liked this layering thing; I think I'll be raiding my husband's closet more often.
I suppose when I looked at this postcard in my childhood, I would imagine that one day I'd send it, with my best friend, to two other best friends.
Because at that age, our most precious ones—who could be considered even more important than our toys—were our best friends.
For long years; in fact, to give an exact figure, in these thirty-odd years of my life, for a full 10 years; in the group messages I sent, the gift cards, the letters written, the big-smiling photos sent, I had always been one of two.
For 10 years we were referred to as the fabulous duo, the crazy crew, you globetrotters, the dream team.
Now I look back on those years, and as two wild spirits, oh how we had fun and gave others fun.
If you have your second wild spirit, you're very lucky.
And if you don't, I wish everyone luck in finding their second wild spirit in the new year.
Flz.