Prickly Lovers Club Vol.IV: Meet Gülçin
- 5 hours ago
- 2 min read
On a Tuesday morning in July, Gülçin leaves the main road before the beach signs begin. The path narrows as it reaches the water. By the time she arrives, the only sounds are cicadas, the sea, and the occasional splash of someone who found the place before she did.
She spends much of the year between eye-wear appointments and yoga classes. Summer slows the pace. July begins at the water.
What does summer mean to you?
“Enjoying the heat on a breezy day. Wearing lighter clothes, flip flops, or nothing at all on your feet. Eating a juicy peach at the beach. A cold drink on a hot afternoon. An afternoon nap. Any water sport available. A sweaty yoga practice that makes me feel alive and connected; heat makes the body softer, more open. I find so much joy in that.”
Any daily summer rituals?
“A beach day with a good book, possibly until the sun sets. Keeping breakfasts and dinners simple, quite often: watermelon, cheese, and bread.”
A place you keep returning to?
“The hidden bays of Akyaka. I want to be surrounded by nature — and by people who are respectful of it. The kind of place that asks something of you before it lets you in.”
The hidden bays of Akyaka rarely announce themselves. You leave the main road behind before they begin to appear.
What travels with you?
“Cotton Candy. It has the texture of something that was never trying to be anything other than itself; a little crinkled, a little soft, gentle in the way it holds colour. It suits the kind of summer I want: nothing rigid, nothing loud. Just something that feels right in your hands before you’ve even decided where you’re going.”
Where did you last take it?
“Puerto Escondido, Mexico. February 2026. The Pacific is not a gentle sea. But Cotton Candy doesn’t mind.”
If you had to describe this towel in 3 words?
“Soft. Unhurried. Mine.”
By midday, the sun sits directly overhead and the water goes still; the particular stillness that only arrives once the heat has settled fully into the afternoon. The hours begin to lose their edges. There is nowhere else she needs to be.
Eventually, she gathers her things. Cotton Candy folded once, then again, still faintly warm. The walk back to the road is longer than the walk in, but she is in no particular hurry to arrive anywhere.
Gülçin’s summer companion: Cotton Candy →