ABSTRACT
Since we first met, Fırlama has rearranged his shop three times. He is the only trader in this small Istanbulite bazaar who has allowed this anthropologist, interested in fake brands, to drop by any time she wants and to poke her nose into his business and his life. At first, the goods he is dealing in, that is fake branded underwear and, in a smaller quantity, fake branded perfumes and socks, were crammed into the attic of a glassware shop. Then, the glassware disappeared and the fakes took its place. A few months later, the shop was refurbished and a large selection of t-shirts, shirts, coats, sweaters, jackets and scarves, all fake branded, were displayed. When Fırlama and his neighbour became partners in a new business, he moved into a smaller place, further down the same alley, and has kept on selling fake brands ever since. ‘I love this business. I have given it 25 years of my life,’ he said one day, while playing absent-mindedly with a pair of bright orange boxer shorts, stretching them, checking the seams and stitches.
