Sinanation

It must be a side effect of the mass consumption in America. No matter how many different tailors or barber shops I try, I can’t get the service I have gotten used to in Europe, especially in Turkey.

Hair please stop growing! The cheap barber shops are like slaughter houses where a random person who has been accidentally given a trimmer jumps into your hair without questions asked. No matter how many times you try to explain or show a picture of the style you want, you always end up with the style I like to call the Bird nest head. Really short on the sides and long on top. It doesn’t get any better with the more expensive “full-service” barber shops. Although you get 2 minutes of peace when they kindly wrap your face with a warm towel, now you have to deal with hierarchy. Do you want to pay up and go for a senior stylist or save a little and go for a rookie stylist? Having tried both, I can tell that it still makes no difference. Cheap, expensive, fancy, old-style or luxurious, you still smile, but cry inside when they show your new hair while they surround you with mirrors. You still go home with millions of tiny hair needling their way into your neck, ear and shoulders. You end up asking yourself again why they wouldn’t wash your hair after they are done cutting it. The irresistible moment of truth awaits you at home in front of the mirror before you jump into the shower, thinking a long shampoo might make the bad style go away. You become the Bird nest head and start praying for your hair to grow back by the next morning.

Pants please fit! As if it is not difficult enough to find the comfortable, good-looking pants, the length is always an issue. The tailor comes in. You watch his/her every move as the measurements are taken. With the needles and chalk, the length looks perfect. You give the OK and a few days later you get the pants with the full excitement of wearing them to the next big event. You put them on. Something is not right. Suddenly you look like Charlie Chaplin on the mirror. How the heck can you see your socks when you are standing up? The length is totally wrong.

When it comes to hair and pants, something is really wrong in America. Every episode I have with barbers and tailors makes me go back and analyze the lack of attention and handiwork in the services I get. Hands must have lost their touch and the people who are providing the service must have lost their care in all the speed and mass consumption that surrounds us in America, especially in New York. Maybe it is yet to be perceived in Europe and Turkey, but I hope that when it arrives I will be too old to care about the style of my hair or the length of my pants.

It should be the ultimate example to those distinctive items that eliminate you from the ordinary. It is not the first watch you own nor your first tuxedo. It is the limited edition rose gold watch or the tailored tuxedo. Wallypower is certainly not made for comfort but speed and attention. The full-glass main cabin can not hide you from the sun. There is surely nowhere to put the tender unless you want to ruin the whole incredible look of this sharp knife on water. The fully visible deck puts you right in front of the people watching you with awe, trying to figure out whether you are traveling on a spaceship or a submarine. You on the other hand are pampered with the pleasure of being the center of mystery and luxury. While your 180 ft Benetti quietly waits in Monaco, you choose to prance around with Wally on the Bosporus or any other place where you can be stared at. With USD 25m beneath you and a full tank worth USD 15K you deserve to enjoy the merits of cruising on an engineering wonder where design meets modern in full contrast with nature. Check the weather for a sunny clear day, put all your happy hour music together, invite all your friends, get a case of the best Prosecco you can find, put on your white shirt and loose pants, take off the shoes, put on the sunglasses and take your Wally on the catwalk as it is always a fashion show when it is around.

If you ever have doubts on what you should name your Wallypower 118 (if you ever own one), check out the scenes in The Island. You will get a good idea.