Family Traditions

“We come from a long line of powerful women,” says Basak Kocabiyikoglu, standing in the showroom that she co-founded with her sister Defne, sporting a camel-coloured pair of mid-waisted flared trousers and a feather-cuffed black top. “We knew that our brand needed to be named after one them.”

The sisters got to know her as children during family visits. “We saw her softer, more nurturing side,” says Defne, an industrial-design graduate. “We always had a yearning to create a product,” she says. “Launching our brand wasn't the result of a eureka moment. It was brewing on the backburner.”

The Kocabiyikoglus' goal was to capture Nackiyé's essence and venerate their ancestors' traditions. Their collections redefine the kinds of forms, patterns and structures found in their great-grandmother's wardrobe; for example, they have transformed the shalwar kameez (consisting of a tunic and trousers) into a more modern ensemble with a bustier made from soft cotton or felt wool. The brand's patterns often feature adaptations of ebru sanatı (the art of paper marbling) or Anatolian floral prints too. “She had a closet full of neatly layered fabrics with knitting equipment, pages to cut patterns from and moulds,” says Defne. “What a delight it was to rummage through those boxes of threads, buttons and pins.”

Nackiyé's bestseller, the Grand Bazaar Dress, is an update of an entari, a type of robe dress that women in Anatolia have worn for several centuries. “I love its cut and model,” says Defne, who wears a lemonade-coloured version adorned with a motif of pink roses. “Though it has a bold character with big, balloon-like arms, there is a lot of room to personalise it.”

To find out more about the history that Nackiyé has stitched into its clothes, Konfekt takes a four-hour drive southeast of Istanbul to the city of Kutahya, Turkey's biggest ceramics producer. From government offices to pedestrian bridges, almost every structure seems to be adorned with tiles. We're greeted by Halim Karaagaoglu, a cousin of the Kocabiyikoglus' mother, who was born and raised in Kutahya. As we tour the city he tells us that it was an anchor for the extended family, which would come together here for joyous gatherings. “It was also a breeding ground for artists, musicians, craftsmen and thinkers, such as [17th-century explorer] Evliya Celebi,” he says.

Our first stop is the Donenler Camii, a mosque for Mevlevi dervishes. The Mevlevi order is a Sufi sect of Sunni Islam whose central beliefs are based on the teachings of poet and mystic Mevlana, also known as Rumi. It was founded by his followers after his death in the Anatolian city of Konya in 1273. The order is best known for the sema, in which dervishes in ceremonial dress whirl around a place of worship in a synchronised dance to reach a meditative state. “This is considered a form of prayer,” explains Karaagaoglu.

Nackiyé Ispartalilig used to come here. This 14th-century stone building was the dervish lodge to which the family belonged before the founding of the republic in 1923, when such places were closed down. Karaagaoglu shows Konfekt a photo of Ispartalilig, aged between 10 and 12, in its circular worship space. Stretching her hands towards the sky, she stands in front of a group of whirling dervishes who wear a black kaftan and sikke – a long, cone-shaped hat made from felt and worn as a symbol of death. Until girls reached puberty, they were allowed to learn the order's codes of behaviour and spiritual teachings, and partake in the whirling ritual. “Girls who participated in the ceremony were given the middle name Seyyare [Celestial],” says Basak, explaining that their maternal grandmother carried the name but neither of the sisters does. “If I had a daughter, I would have liked to continue the tradition.”

The under-acknowledged participation of Sufi women in the whirling ceremony is a narrative that the sisters are keen to weave into the identity of their brand. “This mysticism – what we refer to as l'orient – is part of our brand's philosophy of grace and elegance,” says Basak. “It made a strong impression on us that Nackiyé was a whirling dervish. It is a testament to her strong-willed character.”

Sufism has also inspired their designs. “We fell in love with the aesthetic of the Sufi dressing code, especially its floor-length cloaks and billowing full skirts,” says Defne. “We aspired to capture a soaring feeling similar to that of the whirling dervishes but with our own take on the silhouette and using lighter materials.”

Like most cities across Turkey, Kutahya has been a casualty of the unquenchable thirst to modernise. Wooden houses have made way for concrete apartment blocks. Trees grow out of the ruins of abandoned churches. Cobblestoned streets have been replaced by asphalt. Germiyan Street, where İspartaligil grew up, is an exception. It is among the few places where 19th-century wooden-framed konak houses still exist and some have been renovated. Today they house some of the city's cultural heritage organisations, such as the Kutahya Maturation Institute, as well as several ateliers of artists.

After a brief stop for a lunch of tirit – rolled filo topped with shredded chicken and garlic-infused yoghurt sauce – we are invited by the director of the Kutahya Maturation Institute to visit its historical clothing museum and weaving workshops. Upstairs on the second floor, spread across a weaving table, is a half-finished, olive-coloured waistcoat. It is entirely handsewn and took four or five months to make. “These are the sort of items that we are inspired by,” says Basak, explaining how such clothing defines the Anatolian look that her brand is trying to preserve. “I remember my grandfather wearing a similar one.”

Under glass in the middle of the corridor is a centuries-old turquoise dress with intricate detailing of fine silk embroidery. The garments on show are examples of the various styles of Kutahya's igne oyasi, the Turkish lace technique. One of the brand's permanent “it” pieces, a handsewn lace collar, is a tribute to this kind of fine detailing.

Shortly after our return from Kutahya, major earthquakes hit Turkey and Syria. The Kocabiyikoglu sisters, who were in Paris at the time, were devastated by the destruction. “How can one be present and function in a global arena amid such a tragedy?” says Basak over the phone, explaining how the brand swung into action to provide aid for the survivors.

“This is personal for us,” says Basak, who tells Konfekt that the brand's chief seamster, Bayram Algil, is from Malatya and the company driver, Huseyin Ciledag, is from Antep. Both left for the earthquake zone the day after the disaster, hoping to rescue loved ones, with car boots full of food and supplies that the brand was able to collect.

For Nackiyé, the long-term plan is to support education and celebrate the beauty of Turkish history and craft. The focus of that mission has grown sharper as the nation grieves and rebuilds. “There is a lot to do,” says Basak, noting that earthquake-devastated cities such as Antakya have rich cultural histories. “It is heartening to witness ordinary citizens coming together and mobilising to help. To heal our wounds, we need to take responsibility for one another.” As the country emerges from disaster, brands such as Nackiyé will be part of the quest to rebuild a sense of the past out of the memories of those who are left behind.