After exploring Sultanahmet, many visitors hope to take home something that reflects the craftsmanship of Turkey. Proudly partnering with Kirkit Rugs in 2026, we’re delighted to introduce a rare kind of rug house: one that prices fairly, treats people ethically, and proves you don’t need tourist markups to take home something extraordinary.
Table of Contents
The Building Where I Grew Up
When people ask me why I love Istanbul so much, I often think of a single building: Kutlugün Sokak No. 37.
It stands beside the Four Seasons Hotel in Sultanahmet, just a short walk from the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia. Today, it’s home to Kirkit Rugs, one of the most thoughtful and ethical rug companies I know.
But for me, it’s much more than a beautiful rug shop.
It’s where I grew up.
I first walked into that building when I was fourteen. Back then, it was Istanbul Hostel, and I was just a kid with a summer job. That “summer job” quietly became almost ten years of my life. I met travellers from around the world, learned English through countless conversations, and discovered how much people have in common, no matter where they come from.
I worked there. I slept there. I laughed there. I cried there.
When the hostel closed and the building changed hands, I worried it would become just another tourist trap. Instead, something rare happened.
An honest, intellectually curious rug company moved in, led by Ahmet Diler, a man with a background in French literature, a master’s degree, and a lifelong fascination with Anatolian flatweaves and their symbolism. The more I read his book Kilimin Sembolleri (Symbolism of Kilim), the more I realised that what hangs on Kirkit’s walls isn’t simply beautiful craftsmanship. It’s the latest chapter in a design tradition that stretches back thousands of years.
Who is Ahmet Diler
Ahmet Diler is the kind of rug expert you hope to meet in Sultanahmet: not someone chasing quick sales, but someone who treats textiles as a living archive of Anatolia‘s cultural heritage.
With a background in French literature and graduate-level study, he approaches flatweaves the way a scholar approaches a poem. He pays close attention to structure, repetition, symbolism, and the quiet details that many people overlook. That same philosophy shapes Kirkit’s approach through fair pricing, respectful relationships with weavers, and a genuine commitment to preserving traditional craftsmanship.
As the owner of Kirkit Rugs and an active figure in Turkey‘s weaving community, Ahmet moves comfortably between scholarship and everyday practice. He studies the ancient language of kilim motifs while helping those traditions remain relevant today, so the rugs hanging on Kirkit’s walls feel less like souvenirs and more like living pieces of Anatolian culture.
The 7,000-Year Story of Anatolian Weaving
One of my favorite parts of Ahmet’s book is how it begins with tiny, fragile pieces of cloth rather than large, impressive rugs.
In Central Anatolia, near the ancient settlement of Çatalhöyük, archaeologists discovered small fragments of woven fabric in the same region where some of the world’s oldest wall paintings were found. These fragments, now housed in the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations in Ankara, have been carbon-dated to around 7000 BCE. They are among the oldest known woven textiles in the world.
Over the following millennia, weaving became an established craft across Anatolia. Excavations at Kültepe, near modern Kayseri, uncovered spindle whorls and loom weights, showing that spinning yarn and weaving textiles were already well-developed by the early second millennium BCE. Although textiles rarely survive, these simple tools reveal a thriving weaving tradition.
The earliest surviving knotted carpet is the famous Pazyryk Carpet, woven around the 5th century BCE. Discovered frozen in a Scythian burial mound in the Altai Mountains, its remarkably sophisticated design suggests that carpet weaving had already reached a high level of craftsmanship long before.
Centuries later, the tradition flourished in Anatolia under the Seljuks. The famous Seljuk carpets, dating from the 13th century, are the earliest surviving examples of Anatolian carpets and display many of the bold geometric patterns that would continue to define Turkish weaving for centuries.
So when you step into Kirkit Rugs and see a contemporary flatweave hanging on the wall, you’re not just looking at a rug. You’re looking at the latest chapter of a story that began with the first woven textiles of Neolithic Anatolia, evolved through Bronze Age workshops, and continues in the hands of today’s master weavers.
The Meaning of Anatolian Kilim Motifs
The foreword to Kilimin Sembolleri has a striking title: “Ölüme Karşı Tılsımlar” – Talismans Against Death.
It explains that in one of Anatolia’s oldest cities, archaeologists found wall paintings whose shapes resemble the motifs still woven into kilims today. Over time, those shapes moved from walls to looms, and they weren’t just decoration. They were rituals.
On the loom, the pattern slowly grows and turns into a story:
- hands stretched upward to call down rain,
- symbols meant to calm storms or keep monsters away,
- motifs to protect women, children, and livestock,
- and shapes asking for fertility and abundance—for the womb and for the soil.
Every repeated motif is like a repeated prayer: a fixed gesture addressing old fears and old hopes.
That’s why so many traditional designs are dominated by:
- hooks and horns (strength, protection),
- eyes (warding off the evil eye),
- ram horns and bull heads (masculine power, fertility),
- elibelinde figures (stylized female shapes with hands on hips, symbolizing motherhood and life).
Next time you look at a kilim, imagine it as a ritual frozen in geometric form—a personal spell woven into wool.
Ikili Dokuma: Double Weave, Double World
One spread in Ahmet’s book is dedicated to “İkili dokuma,” or double weave. It includes a photograph of a weaver sitting at the loom alongside a striking red-and-earth-toned prayer kilim from Central Anatolia.
In simple terms, double weave means that:
- the weft, or horizontal yarn, travels through the loom in a way that allows two layers of cloth to interlock or exchange sides,
- motifs can appear reversible or create a sense of depth,
- and contrasting colors can remain clearly separated, forming bold, stepped geometric shapes.
In the book, the technique is explained through diagrams and an example from Obruk, Konya: a traditional prayer kilim whose central mihrab appears to rise from the background like a doorway. Repeated hooked motifs and diamond shapes form vertical and horizontal steps, creating the impression of a spiritual staircase woven into the fabric.
When you encounter similar pieces at Kirkit Rugs, you are seeing the same traditional weaving logic: two layers of yarn working together to create mirrored worlds on either side of the rug.
Kenetleme: Interlocking the Colors
On the facing page is another key term: “Kenetleme,” or interlocking.
Where double weave plays with layers, kenetleme is about how differently colored areas lock into each other along their borders. Instead of leaving gaps or visible slits between color fields, the weaver joins the colors together stitch by stitch, creating a stronger and more continuous surface.
This traditional weaving technique:
- keeps the fabric strong and durable,
- builds curves and inclines from a series of tiny stepped transitions,
- and allows complex motifs, including flowers, animals, and decorative borders, to flow smoothly across the textile.
The sample shown in the book is a floral, almost tapestry-like piece in which vines and blossoms float over a dark ground. It is a useful reminder that not all textiles from Anatolia are purely geometric. With techniques such as kenetleme, weavers can achieve surprisingly painterly results using the disciplined structure of a traditional loom.
From Ancient Symbols to Modern Rugs
- Maybe its calm, open field is a modern echo of an ancient prayer niche.
- The thin, repeated border might be a simplified protective motif, a subtle 21st-century interpretation of traditional talismans against danger and the evil eye.
- A row of diamonds could still represent eyes, seeds, or wombs, even if the designer now describes them simply as graphic elements.
taking 7,000 years of symbols and weaving them into something a person in Tokyo or Berlin can live with every day.
Custom Designs: Choosing Your Own Talismans
One of the most exciting things about Kirkit Rugs is that they accept custom orders.
That means you’re not limited to what’s hanging in the shop. You can sit down with the team and:
- choose the weaving structure (flatweave, pile, or double weave),
- play with color palettes, from earthy neutrals and monochrome tones to bold, vibrant combinations,
- and even discuss which Anatolian motifs resonate with you, whether they symbolize protection, growth, love, or life’s journey.
In a way, commissioning a custom rug here is like creating your own modern talisman, inspired by the symbolism explored in Kilimin Sembolleri, yet designed for your own home, whether that’s an apartment in Brooklyn, London, Seoul, or just across the Bosphorus in Kadıköy.
Why This Matters for The Other Tour
For The Other Tour, Kirkit Rugs isn’t just a place to shop. It’s a living classroom of Anatolian weaving.
In one building, the same building where I spent my youth, you can:
- trace a line from 7,000-year-old textile fragments to today’s Anatolian kilims,
- discover how traditional techniques such as ikili dokuma (double weave) and kenetleme (interlocking) shape the appearance of handmade rugs,
- and learn to read Anatolian rugs not simply as décor, but as stories and symbols woven from fear, hope, protection, and everyday life.
If you join us on The Other Tour and visit Kirkit Rugs, you’ll discover that these textiles are more than beautiful objects. They are living traditions, carrying the craftsmanship and stories of Anatolia, and if you take one home, you’ll own a small piece of Anatolia’s oldest visual language.
FAQ- Frequently Asked Questions
Explore the Kirkit Rugs with The Other Tour
If you’d like to explore Kirkit Rugs during your time in Istanbul, we’d be happy to include a visit in one of our private tours. Whether you’re searching for a meaningful piece to take home or simply want to understand the stories woven into Anatolia‘s textile traditions, we’ll make sure you experience Kirkit Rugs the way we do.
