This is not the wisest way to start a business, but this is how we started. No, actually this is how I started. Because there wasn’t a “we” by then. There was I and my boredom in Kaikoura. And there was Asiye, Seda and Seden and their agency workload in istanbul. 

And of course there wasn’t the slightest idea of Literally Yours on our minds too. In fact, there was a year old note on one my notebooks highlighting “Literally Yours” as a cool brand name, but that was it. It was one of the funny idea crumbs I used to sprinkle on various papers to find my way back to copywriting one day. 

But there was boredom. Did I say it? Yes. Lots of it. And there was time. Not much but I could always beg for some extra by getting up early or staying up late. But most of all, there were clothes, hangers of them, getting dusty, dangling from the back of the chairs, all hand picked over the years, loved so much that even travelled thousands of miles from Istanbul to this little town, Kaikoura. I was bored of seeing them, and mutually they were bored of seeing me too, in the same plain t-shirts and jeans. I could sense them eyeing me with their judgmental shiny & pricey buttons. Oh dear!

Things were quite the opposite back in istanbul. Since I exactly knew what I would be doing for the rest of the day - writing, re- writing, re-re-re-writing - I would wake up thinking only one thing: What am I gonna wear today? Bu in Kaikoura, I was stuck with the first question: What am I gonna do today? I tell you my friend, if you have this question on your mind and if you can’t find a decent answer, it is okay to end up siting on your pajamas all day long, surfing from one page to another, loosing the track of time and finding it back again only when you hear the engine of your boyfriend’s car coming through the driveway. I know it. I experienced it at first hand. 

So I decided to sell my clothes. Hey, only some of it! Only the ones I wore not even once since I was in New Zealand. I could never take all of them back to Istanbul anyway. The airlines companies would charge me thousands of dollars for that much extra baggage. It took a couple of days to sort them out, kissing each one good bye, whispering this is for their own sake, they deserve to be worn every day. I arranged them nicely on my stall at the Kaikoura School Yard Market held every Saturday. I added a couple of duct tape wallets I made out of, duh, duct tapes. This was what I have been doing on those “What am I gonna do?” moments. Trying to find things I can do with my hands. See, I wouldn’t consider myself as a crafty person. That’s why I had to find highly descriptive instructions. 

So, in one hour, bam! A wallet was sold. Which was cool! But also, one of my favorite skirts was gone too. I watched the lady who bought walking away with my skirt under her arms which was whisking towards me in that windy morning yelling in her silent but aggressive skirt language “What the hell are you doing!” I hushed her immediately! The lady turned back and asked: Did you say something?” I said: “No. I was just thinking… What was once mine, is now literally yours.”

Ayca