By now, most of you know that the towels we carry aren’t just any “Turkish towels” — they’re the original, authentic thing. The last of their kind, woven the traditional way on old-style shuttle looms with GOTS certified organic Turkish cotton or the highest quality of linen. But what you may not know is just how close we came — again — to losing the art of making these towels for good.
Let’s rewind to 2020.
At the time, all of our thick-looped towels were being woven in eastern Türkiye, about 17 hours from Istanbul. As COVID hit, that region began experiencing wave after wave of lockdowns. Villages locked down, neighbourhoods quarantined, and we were cut off from visiting in person — something that’s essential when working with artisans in rural communities. Phone calls don’t cut it in this kind of work. You need to sit, sip tea, and talk face to face.
But the biggest challenge wasn’t the pandemic. It was what started to unravel underneath it all.
As lockdowns dragged on, things deteriorated on many levels — supply chain problems for threads, delays in washing, control checking, tassel tying, and, most critically, the collapse of trust and leadership. The man we had relied on to manage production was crumbling. He grew erratic. Evasive. Shipments slowed. And then the calls started coming — not from him, but from the weavers he managed. One by one, they reached out to say: We don’t want to work for him anymore. We want to work directly with you, Miss Jennifer.
It was surreal. When Jennifer had first met him, he was just ten days away from scrapping the last two looms he had left — already bankrupt for the second time. (He’d lost more than 70 looms the first time around.) That encounter had sparked the revival of this entire towel tradition. But now, the foundation was shaking again.
The idea was floated: would they be willing to move west, to Central Anatolia, where most of our flat-weave artisans already were?
We expected resistance.
Instead, a huge landslide of yeses came.
What followed was two years of utter chaos: relocating entire families, finding housing, securing spaces to reassemble looms, and transporting every part of this fragile craft across the country. It was exhausting, expensive, and emotionally charged. These were artisans leaving their hometowns — their extended families — to restart their lives in a region with a different climate, culture, and rhythm.
By January 2022, the new workshops were finally ready to start running our precious thick-looped towels again.
Then came February 2022 — and the devastating earthquakes in eastern Türkiye.
It was a heartbreak for the entire country. And a sobering reminder of how close we’d come — again — to losing this art forever. Our hearts go out to all those who suffered during that terrible time.
So if you ever visit our showroom and climb the stairs to the third floor — the thick-looped towel floor — now you know why our hearts skip two beats (one for 2009 and one for 2022). It’s not just a display room. It’s a miracle.
We almost lost these towels in 2009.
We almost lost them again in 2020.
But somehow, the threads held.
And now, the distance to visit our weavers is 8 hours instead of 17 — a logistical perk that, frankly, feels like a gift after what we’ve been through.
The weavers are thriving again. And the looms? Most made the trip, but there are quite a few that we’re busy repairing and hope to get up and running as soon as possible.
Those that made it without issue?
Click-clacking again.