(CNN) — Turkey may be famous for its kebabs, but the popular dish is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Turkish cuisine.

Plateaus and plains of fertile soil formed by now extinct volcanoes, snow-covered mountains and fast-flowing rivers lend themselves to a rich and varied table.

This includes olive oil based dishes from the Mediterranean Coast, hearty pastries from central Anatolia, subtle spicy flavors from the east and southeast, and that’s just for starters.

Traditional Turkish foods rely less on seasonings and more on tasty fresh ingredients rolled, kneaded, shaped and cooked to perfection with care, dedication and passion.

In fact, the Turks love their food so much they even write songs about it — “Domates, biber, patlican” by Anatolian rock star Baris Manco translates to “Tomatoes, pepper, eggplant.”

Here are 23 of the top Turkish foods beyond the basic kebab:

Piyaz

Antalya’s piyaz salad is one of the Turkish city’s most famous dishes — and its secret ingredient is its beans.

They’re not just any old butter bean, but a small version known as candir, named after the inland province where they’re grown.

Delicate and flavorful, candir are mixed, together with tahini thinned with a little water, lemon juice, vinegar, salt, garlic, flat-leaf parsley and olive oil.

In the very traditional version, a soft boiled egg is roughly chopped up and mixed through just before serving.

Ezogelin corba

Ezogelin soup was supposedly conjured up by a woman who wanted to impress her husband’s mother.

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According to legend, this dish was dreamed up by an unhappily married woman named Ezo who was trying to win over her mother-in-law via her stomach.

She concocted a zesty soup consisting of red lentils, domato salca (tomato paste — sweet or hot), grated fresh tomatoes and onions, served with dried mint and pul biber (chili flakes) sprinkled on top.

There’s no proof it actually worked, but just in case, ezogelin (which literally translates to bride Ezo), originating from a small village near Gaziantep, is still the food of choice for brides-to-be.

Saksuka

A traditional Turkish side dish, saksuka consists of eggplant, zucchinis, garlic, tomatoes and chili.

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Turkish cuisine incorporates a huge range of vegetable dishes known as zeytinyagli yemegi — foods cooked in olive oil. The majority are vegetable-based and include green beans, artichokes and of course, eggplants.

One of the tastiest eggplant offerings is sasuka. Here silky purple skinned cubes of green flesh are cooked with zucchinis, garlic, tomatoes and chilli — how much of the latter depending on where in Turkey it’s made.

Kisir

This simple salad dish is made of fine bulgur wheat, tomatoes, garlic, parsley and mint.

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Kisir is a salad made from fine bulgur wheat, tomatoes, garlic, parsley and mint.

There are numerous versions from all over Turkey, but the Antakya one includes nar eksisi (sour pomegranate molasses) and pul biber (hot red chili flakes). They like it hot down south.

Mercimek kofte

Mercimek kofte is a hugely popular Turkish appetizer or side dish.

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Known to Diyarbakir locals as belluh, mercimek kofte is a vegetarian delight.

Made from red lentils, fine bulgur, salt, finely chopped onion, scallions, tomato and aci biber salca (hot red pepper paste) and crushed cilantro, they come in handy bite-sized servings.

Just pop one of these nuggets of flavor onto a lettuce leaf, add a squeeze of lemon juice, roll it up and munch away.

Yaprak dolma

This traditional dish is essentially vine leaves rolled and filled with either well-seasoned rice or mincemeat.

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In the Isparta version of yaprak dolma, rice is cooked with tomatoes, a bunch of parsley, onion, garlic, tomato paste, olive oil, black pepper, salt and water.

A spoonful of this mixture is placed on a vine leaf, folded in and carefully rolled by hand into neat little cylinders.

While leaves are sold at most street markets, the best ones come from a neighbor’s tree, usually picked at midnight.

Yaprak dolma are part of Turkish Aegean cuisine and sometimes include a pinch of cinnamon in the mix, a nod to the Rum people, Greeks born in Turkey.

Inegol kofte

Inegol Kofte — grilled meatballs made using ground beef or lamb, breadcrumbs and onions.

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Meatballs are so much more than just balls of meat in Turkish cuisine. Each style brings its own unique serve of history.

One of the best known is Inegol kofte, invented by one Mustafa Efendi. Originally from Bulgaria, he migrated to Inegol in northwest Turkey in the 19th century.

Unlike other Turkish kofte his mix uses only ground beef or lamb and breadcrumbs, seasoned with onions.

Iskender kebab

Iskender kebab is named after İskender Efendi, the man who invented the dish.

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Located in northwest Turkey, Bursa is famous for three things — silk, the ski fields of Uludag and a type of kebab called Iskender.

Apparently a gentleman of the same name first cooked this dish for workers in the city’s Kayhan Bazaar back in 1867.

Thin slices of doner meat are reverently laid over pieces of plump pide bread, smothered in freshly made tomato sauce, baptized with a dash of sizzling melted butter and served with a portion of tangy yoghurt, grilled tomato and green peppers.

Cag kebab

To prepare this dish, marinated lamb meat is roasted on a horizontal rotating spit and cooked over a wood fire.

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The people of Erzurum take their meat very seriously. So much so, they’re prepared to wait more than 12 hours for a sliver of hot and tasty lamb cag kebab.

First the meat is smeared with a mix of onions, salt and black pepper and left to marinate for half a day. Then it’s fed onto a long skewer and cooked horizontally over a wood fire.

Divine on its own, cag kebab is also served wrapped in flat lavas bread with slices of tomato, white onion and long thin green peppers called sivri.

Hamsili pilav

Hamsili pilav — an oven baked rice dish with a layer of fresh anchovies on top.

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Hamsi, aka European anchovy, is a staple in Turkish Black Sea kitchen. In the city of Rize, the slender fishes are prepared with rice to make Hamsili Pilav.

This dish is cooked in a stock made from fried onions, butter, peanuts, Turkish allspice and raisins, which is mixed with fresh parsley and dill. Then filleted anchovies are arranged over the rice and the whole lot is cooked in the oven.

Perde pilav

Perde pilav — a buttery dough filled with rice, chicken, currants, almonds, pine nuts and butter.

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The town of Siirt is home to perde pilav, or curtain rice, a rice-based dish wrapped in a lush buttery dough, baked in an oven and served up hot.

Usually served at weddings, perde pilav is cooked with chicken, currants, almonds, pine nuts and butter, and seasoned with salt, oregano and pepper.

The shape of the dish is thought to represent the creation of a new home — the rice symbolizes fertility and the currants are for future children.

Manti

The most coveted version of these tasty Turkish dumplings are made in Kayseri, Central Anatolia.

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The most popular type of manti, small squares of dough with various fillings, are those made in Kayseri.

This central Anatolian version contains a spoonful of mince sealed into a small parcel, but they use cheese elsewhere. The manti are dropped into boiling water and topped with yoghurt and pul biber (chili flakes).

Legend has it, a good Turkish housewife can make them so small that 40 fit onto one spoon.

Testi kebab

Testi kebab — a meat and vegetable dish that needs to be broken open before it’s eaten.

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This specialty of the Nevsehir region features pottery made in Avanos, using red clay from the famous Kizilirmak River.

First the clay jug is filled with beef, tomatoes, bell pepper, garlic and a knob of butter. Its opening is then sealed with a peeled slice of potato and covered in alfoil, before the jug is placed in a wood-burning oven.

Once the contents are ready, the cook must hold the alfoil covered top in one hand and a small hammer in the other to break open the meal.

The trick is to aim for the thin line circling the body of the vessel three quarters of the way up.

Gozleme

This traditional Turkish pastry is often stuffed with salty white cheese, minced beef or spinach.

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Alternatively known as sac boregi, pastry cooked on a sac, a hot convex metal plate, gozleme are flat savory pockets usually filled with salty white cheese, spinach or minced beef.

Although often considered village food, it takes expert handling to roll out the paper-thin dough without tearing it.

The word goz means “eye”, and the name gozleme is believed to come from the dark spots that form as the pastry cooks and absorbs the oil on the sac, forming “eyes.”

Pide

A type of flatbread made from stretched out dough balls stretched and inserted with a range of fillings.

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Pide are a firm favorite among Turks, with some of the tastiest originating in the Black Sea region. Here dough balls are stretched out into an elongated base and loaded with a choice of fillings.

The most popular is sucuklu yumurta, spicy Turkish sausage and egg mixed with kasar (yellow sheep cheese) but ispanakli kasar, spinach with cheese, is equally good.

It’s the crust that makes pide a winner. Cooked in a wood-fired oven, the high temperature produces a crisp crunchy base ideal for all types of ingredients.

Su boregi

This savory pastry is made by layering sheets of a dough named “yufka” and adding a filling of white cheese.

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Borek, a savory pastry made from layering sheets of a fine filo-like dough called yufka, is a staple of the high plateaus of central Anatolia.

It was brought to Turkey by nomadic herders hundreds of years ago, and different varieties can be found all over the country and throughout Central and Eastern Europe.

Su boregi, meaning “water borek” is the most commonly available, relying on white cheese, butter, olive oil and salt for flavor.

Simit

If a country can be said to run on its stomach, simit is the fuel that keeps Turkey going. They’re sold everywhere, by street vendors carrying baskets or pushing carts, in bakeries and cafes, at tram, train and metro stations and even on ferries.

It’s believed simit were created in the palace kitchens of Suleyman the Magnificent in the 1500s, but no official records exist.

In October 2019, the word simit was officially recognized by the Oxford English Dictionary and the rest, as they say, is history.

Lahmacun

Lahmacun is commonly referred to as Turkish Pizza.

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According to Ottoman explorer Evliya Celebi, who roamed far and wide in the 17th century, lahmacun takes its name from the Arabic word lahm-i acinli.

It’s a type of pastry made from lahm, meat in Arabic and ajin, paste. The paste consists of low fat mince mixed with tomato paste, garlic and spices smeared on a thin round of pita dough and can be made spicier on request.

Served with fresh parsley and a squeeze of lemon juice, Turks have been eating this dish for more than 300 years.

Cig kofte

Cig kofte — a raw meatball dish in which the meat is usually substituted with bulgur and/or ground walnuts.

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Cig kofte originates from Sanliurfa, taking its name from the original recipe using raw (cig) ground beef, combined with bulgur, tomato paste, onions garlic, pepper and Turkish spices.

The mix was kneaded until it was declared ready, determined by throwing a piece up to the ceiling. When it stuck there it was done.

These days the meat has been wholly replaced by bulgur and sometimes ground walnuts, making for a healthier, but equally tasty choice.

Baklava

The people of Gaziantep, also known as Antep, in Turkey’s Southeastern Anatolia Region, know the best baklava is made in a darkened room with a controlled temperature perfect for stacking the 40 sheets of tissue-like pastry that go into this Turkish culinary icon.

First each sheet is brushed with butter, and ground pistachios are sprinkled over every few layers. Then a honeyed syrup is poured over the contents, and the pastry is baked until golden.

Different versions have enticing names such as twisted turban, nightingale’s nest, saray or palace baklava, and are all equally irresistible. Baklava can be enjoyed plain or with a dollop of kaymak, Turkey’s answer to clotted cream.

Dondurma

Dondurma is made from milk and sahlep, a flour made from the tubers of orchids, and mastic.

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Where can you find ice cream you can eat with a knife and fork?

In Kahramanmaras, home of traditional Turkish dondurma, of course. Traditional dondurma (which means freezing in Turkish) is made from milk and two special ingredients, sahlep and mastic.

Sahlep is a type of flour produced from orchids that provides a smooth velvety finish to the ice cream, while the mastic, a natural gum, adds a unique chewiness.

Lokum

Also known as Turkish Delight, Lokum dates back centuries.

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Lokum, known in English as Turkish Delight, dates back centuries. However, it wasn’t until the mid-19th century that it became a hit with the Ottoman sultans.

That’s when corn starch was invented and Istanbul confectioner Haci Bekir added it to the list of ingredients.

This simple combination of water, starch and sugar, boiled together to produce delicate cubes flavored with rose water, pistachio and other flavors continues to delight.

Ekmek kadayifi

This Afyonkarahisar dessert is made from a special type of dehydrated bread with a consistency similar to crumpets.

The bread is placed on a large tray and steeped in water to make it expand. Then it’s covered in a syrup made of sugar, water and lemon and simmered on the stove.

The syrup is constantly spooned back over the bread to infuse it with a sweet sticky texture. When read, it’s turned upside down onto a serving dish and eaten with kaymak, thick Turkish cream.

This article was first published in April 2020 and republished in February 2021.

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But they’re not completely alone — the museum is making the most of the closures by carrying out long-planned renovations.

“(The Louvre) is still living, even though it seems really asleep from the outside,” says project manager Gautier Moysset, standing in front of a set of 19th-century doors that once opened onto the bedchamber of French kings.

Behind him, Gaëlle Dulac is carefully bringing the doors back to life, switching between paintbrushes made from hog bristle and badger hair as she recreates the grain of the wood with layers of paint.

The “Mona Lisa” alone in the Louvre without visitors.

The curator says the quiet period has helped him reconsider how the Louvre displays its vast collection.

“All of a sudden a painting seems too big (or) too small, or the frame doesn’t fit with the ones nearby,” he explains. “You have to listen to what the works have to say. Sometimes they don’t like each other and you have to separate them.”

Curator Julien Cuny is also using the opportunity to reflect on the Persian collections he oversees.

“There needs to be a coherence in the museum. What is the work doing here? How is it speaking to the other works?” he says, guiding a forklift carrying a 400-kilogram (882-pound) stele through a passageway lined with Roman marble sculptures.

“It’s sad because from a logistical point of view, we can do a lot,” Cuny says. “But the artworks, they were made to be seen.”

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Ella Emhoff has made her official runway debut for American label Proenza Schouler at New York Fashion Week.

Like many other brands, Proenza Schouler is presenting its Fall-Winter 2021 womenswear collection digitally this year due to ongoing health and safety concerns due to the pandemic.

Ella Emhoff in Proenza Schouler Credit: Daniel Shea/Proenza Schouler

Their campaign video sees the concrete perimeter of the Parrish Art Museum in New York turn into a makeshift runway. According to the show notes, the range aims to “comfort, inspire, and empower the modern-day woman.”

The collection blends sharp, structured tailoring with cocooning knitwear and an array of playful statement features from long fringed sleeves and soft padded slippers to leather socks under structured stilettos.

Proenza Schouler

Plans for creating a brand of her own seemed to be on the horizon, too. “For a really long time when i was younger I wanted to be a designer,” she said. “Then I took it a little more seriously, I started taking courses at Central Saint Martins over two summers…It definitely exposed me to the intensity of design school.”

Emhoff has been knitting for thirteen years and envisions her designs as unisex. “I want to see guys, girls, people, everyone wearing striped colorful pants or my dresses,” she said. “I think that’d be great.”

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Following a wave of anti-Asian hate crimes taking place in the US in recent weeks, prominent figures from across the fashion industry are coming together to voice their concern and condemn the violence.

“A lot of this (violence) has been caused by misplaced hate and anger and frustration over the pandemic, to the point where our elderly have been attacked randomly,” Lee said in an Instagram video. “It’s not just the harassment and name calling with the “kung flu,” it really has now moved to people being attacked and killed.”

“We’ve been shouting it for months now and people don’t seem to care,” she continued.

In his own powerful post, Lim said watching viral videos of attacks and crimes targeting Asian businesses had been emotionally difficult. And that it wasn’t until he reached out to Asian American friends and colleagues that he started hearing accounts of them being “bullied, harassed, attacked” in their own neighborhoods, over the past month.

Many in the Asian community are calling the seemingly unprovoked attacks hate crimes, spurred by racism and discrimination towards Asians during a year-long battle with the coronavirus in the US, and inflammatory language such as “China virus,” and “kung flu” vocalized by former President Donald Trump.

“To build an equitable world, we have to be actively anti-racist,” Gurung wrote in the accompanying post. “Anti-racism is not a hashtag but a life long commitment.”

“I sit here feeling somewhat helpless, invisible, and semi-defeated because our Asian stories aren’t being reported in mainstream media,” Lim said. “It feels like we do not matter or exist.”

“I’m sure you guys have your own family stories … with varying details of sacrifice, but I believe all with the common goal of searching for a better life,” he continued, after showing photos of his family’s journey immigrating to America to camera. “A safe haven with the promise of infinite possibilities and the freedom to pursue the American dream in a country we all call home.

“So I ask you as a fellow American, a fellow human being. Will you stand with me, will you stand with us, your fellow Americans, Asian Americans, to stop Asian hate?”

Top image: A look from Prabal Gurung’s New York Fashion Week show in September 2019.

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In many parts of the world, cleansing one’s body has become an individual, daily ritual — a quick, steamy shower in the morning or a longer bath to unwind at night. But historically, our bathing habits have been imbued with deeper meanings.

In Ancient Greece, bathhouses were a place for men to wash after sport or swap philosophical discussions (some even contained libraries), while in the Middle Ages, men and women in Europe gave up bathing altogether, for fear it would spread disease. Perfumes and cleansing ointments replaced steam and water, with elaborately adorned bottles and containers linking affluence to health. Fast-forward to the 1960s and ’70s, where bathhouses in New York City became safe havens for gay men to relax, socialize and seek pleasure.

Rembrandt’s intimate and sensual take on the Old Testament subject “Bathsheba at Her Bath,” painted in 1654. Credit: Musée du Louvre

Through objects and artworks, the book “Body. Gaze. Power: A Cultural History of the Bath” charts the evolution of bathtubs and bathing accoutrements across cultures and eras, reflecting each period in their design and purpose.

“The bath can seem like a frivolous or amusing topic, but in fact it turns out to be a very particular place and time for socialization, where one exposes oneself — we literally get naked — where we interact with ourselves, our bodies and our intimacy, but, in the context of public baths, also with others,” writes curator Camille Faucourt in the book. “This space-time has no equivalent in our daily social interactions.”

A place for purity and gender roles

The phrase “cleanliness is next to godliness” originates from an 18th-century sermon, but the connection between good hygiene and religious purity is ancient.

In “Body. Gaze. Power,” curator Florence Hudowicz refers to ancient Greek playwrights who implied a person’s virtuosity or debauchery was based on the temperature of water they preferred to bathe in. In a Greek pottery work from around 425 BC, the god Eros flies above a female bather. She signals that washing oneself “was also practiced before marriage in order to purify the body of the bride and ensure her future fertility,” write Hudowicz and Faucourt.

Though in Ancient Egypt, architectural remains show men and women may have bathed together, Ancient Greeks and Romans were separated by gender. Depictions of their routines in art show athletic, nude men scraping the dirt away after vigorous exercise. Women’s routines were shown as more private — sometimes clothed or nude, surrounding a cauldron of water.

A detail of a pottery work attributed to Athenian vase painter Onesimos circa 500 BC. It shows the routines of Ancient Greek athletes, who applied oils before training in the sun, followed by bathing and vigorous scraping with a strigil tool. Credit: bpk/RMN-Grand Palais/Hervé Lewandowski/Hatje Cantz

Ancient Greeks and Romans were fastidious about hygiene, but early Christians like Saint Augustine in the 4th century “were wary of ‘ephemeral things,'” writes Faucourt, “one of which was most certainly the body.” By the Middle Ages, the church was staunchly against the “loose morals” of bathhouses, which no longer kept men and women separate and often facilitated prostitution.

The plague that surged and waned across Europe beginning in the 14th century, eventually became the death knell of bathing for hundreds of years. In the 16th century, the belief took hold that steaming or submerging skin in water opened up pores to disease. Public steam baths closed and people took up waterless cleansing routines, applying ointments to the feet, hands, mouth and genitals. Smells were hidden with perfumes and elaborate bottles became status symbols for the wealthy.

“The delicate materials from which they were made and the exceptional quality of their ornamentation are indicative of the constant care devoted to maintaining one’s appearance and bodily hygiene,” writes Faucourt.

The wealthy commissioned artworks around bathing as well, tapping Rococo artists including Jean-Antoine Watteau and François Boucher to paint teasing nude female figures extensively washing themselves.

The Roman goddess Diana became a popular figure to paint in Rococo art because of myths that include her bathing rituals. Boucher painted “Diana Resting after her Bath” in 1742. Credit: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

By the 19th century bathing began returning to Europe and America, spurred on by new knowledge from microbiologists who identified germs and the hygienic benefits of soap, but it would take until the end of the century before anyone but the wealthy could afford entire rooms dedicated to the practice. It also took generations to shake the idea that submerging oneself in water could enable disease.

However, European attitudes toward bathing were far from universal. In the Middle East, Faucourt notes there have been fewer fluctuations in attitudes surrounding bathing. From the Ottoman Empire until today, the hammam — the Turkish bath — has remained popular, though its practical use has declined with the rise of home bathrooms.

A place for power and vulnerability

Bathhouses have long held political implications, too. In Ancient Rome, they were sprawling complexes for socializing, but also sites of expensive architectural splendor “(that) served to establish and affirm an emperor’s power,” writes curator Hendrik Bündge in “Body. Gaze. Power.”

In a person’s home, however, the bathtub is one of the most vulnerable places. “When you are naked, you are vulnerable; that’s why the shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ is so shocking,” writes Bündge.

“In the eyes of the revolutionaries, Marat immediately became a martyr of freedom after his assassination,” writes Alain Chevalier in “Body. Gaze. Power.” “Rather than hide the circumstances of his death, they chose to glorify them.” Credit: bpk/RMN-Grand Palais/Franck Raux/Hatje Cantz

One of the most famous artworks from the French Revolution shows the aftermath of a scandalous political crime, set in the bathroom. In Jacques-Louis David’s 1793 painting “The Death of Marat,” French revolutionary and journalist Jean-Paul Marat lies murdered in his tub, his hand still holding an inked quill, the bathwater filled with his blood. His assassin, the royalist aristocrat Marie-Anne Charlotte Corday, intended to murder him publicly but instead came into his home and stabbed him while he washed. David, who shared a friendship and political ideologies with Marat, painted the scene just four months later, martyrizing his subject.

A century and a half later, during World War II, photojournalists Lee Miller and David E. Scherman recognized the bathtub as a site where power could be subverted and monopolized through photography. On April 30, 1945, the day Munich was liberated from Nazi rule, Miller and Scherman entered Hitler’s empty apartment and photographed Miller in his bathtub. In one photo, she sits, nude and defiant, gazing past the camera, with a framed photo of Hitler propped on the ledge behind her. Her boots, muddied with the dirt of the newly freed Dachau concentration camp, have tracked all over his bath mat. (The Nazi leader, hiding out in his Berlin bunker, would kill himself that day.)

“The images’ message is clear: the relations of power had changed,” writes curatorial assistant Carolin Potthast in the book. “The US-Americans had advanced into the enemy’s most intimate sphere. They had seized it occupying it with their bodies. Here, the bathtub becomes a stage for a shift in political power.”

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Why? It’s a combination of factors.

First, the economic crisis means that business class travelers will be “trading down” to premium economy — whether that’s people flying for work whose travel policies are being tightened or upmarket leisure travelers who are feeling the pinch on their wallets but don’t fancy feeling it at their knees or elbows.

Second, frequent fliers will have miles to burn after a year of reduced traveling, and with those straitened travel policies that land business travelers in economy, we’ll likely see some of them upgrading themselves to the slightly better seats with their points. That’s alongside pent-up leisure travelers looking for a bit of a splurge, even in hard times.

Third comes the fact that, after more than a year of Covid-19, we’re just not psychologically used to being cheek-by-jowl with other people anymore. It’s going to feel very strange to think about doing that on a plane, so the extra space in premium economy will be welcome.

Emirates recently debuted its latest A380 with luxurious premium economy seats.

Courtesy Emirates

What is it?

But what is premium economy? Fundamentally, it’s a bigger seat, says Ben Orson, a designer responsible for many of the most successful seats of the past decade, and now managing director of Orson Associates.

“The most important part of what a premium economy seat offers the passenger is a significant upgrade in terms of comfort when compared to economy. Premium economy seating typically provides around 5 to 10 inches of additional leg room, a more generous recline with a leg rest and an enhanced entertainment experience with a much larger screen.”

Seats are also around two to three inches wider, and there are usually one to two seats fewer in each row: eight in a Boeing 777 or Airbus A380, for example, compared with 10 seats in most economy classes.

“This approach has paid off for airlines,” Orson says, “with both British Airways and Virgin Atlantic saying that, per square foot, premium economy is the most profitable part of the plane.”

Premium economy often comes with upgraded meal service.

Courtesy British Airways

Premium economy is found, metaphorically and on the actual aircraft, between the increasingly spacious and luxurious business classes and the increasingly less spacious and less luxurious economy classes.

Airbus calls this widening gap the “comfort canyon.”

Matt Round, chief creative officer at design studio Tangerine, explains that for airlines, it helps to fill this gap and that along with that larger seat comes some additional perks.

“Airlines tend to offer premium economy passengers access to more priority services such as free seat reservations, priority boarding and increased luggage allowance. The services that are offered vary according to the airline.”

Who flies it?

Passengers usually first approach premium economy from one of two directions: either upgrading from economy or downgrading from business.

“Pre-Covid-19, premium economy performed well for leisure passengers who wanted a slight treat or for cost-conscious large and small businesses,” Round explains. “On some routes, there was a tendency for passengers traveling on business to fly premium economy during the day and return on a fully flat bed in business class on the night flights.”

EVA Air’s premium economy cabins were among the world’s first.

EVA Air

But, where business class seats have become more spacious and economy class seats have shrunk both in legroom and elbow room, how have premium economy seats changed since their introduction nearly 30 years ago aboard Virgin Atlantic and EVA Air?

“They haven’t, not really,” says Peter Tennent, director of design house Factorydesign.

“When we designed the first British Airways’ World Traveller Plus seat in 2000, the basis for the seat customization was an aging business class platform. These conventional, yet larger recliner seats were beginning to be superseded by enhanced business class offers, so there was a fairly obvious option to downgrade them from business to a reduced offer to sit between business and economy.”

Despite many advances in inflight entertainment and connectivity features such as on-demand inflight touchscreen entertainment, power sockets, WiFi internet and more, the basic seat hasn’t changed much, Tennent says.

“There have been many new premium economy seats, some bespoke, others derivatives of existing platforms, but all still following the same principle.”

What about the future?

Premium economy, says Martin Darbyshire, chief executive officer of Tangerine, is “a life saver for me as a business traveler who runs a privately owned company, and therefore cannot justify flying business class whenever I want.

“For a day flight, especially, premium economy is a comfortable way of flying with a reasonable quality of service. The smaller cabin is also a benefit, as it creates a more private space.”

Premium economy is also very popular with senior citizens on vacation, particularly because they can usually book early for lower fares.

More legroom is a key benefit of premium economy seats.

Chris Rank/Delta Air Lines

Business travelers, on the other hand, can find it expensive at the last minute, Darbyshire notes. That said, these passengers — especially if they’re also frequent fliers — are among the first to be upgraded into business class if the premium economy cabin is getting full.

Overall, says Orson, “premium economy will continue to be attractive to the very tall, the elderly, and anybody else for whom economy class presents too much of a physical challenge.”

But, looking forward, he muses, “could it be that the approach which launched premium economy in the first instance — a considered selection of those aspects of business class that really matter to passengers today, such as a more technologically informed approach to comfort, greater privacy, enhanced connectivity or a more distanced boarding experience — might be applied again to create a new way of traveling, perfectly tailored to the ever-evolving needs of our passengers of the future?”

Whatever the future looks like, Tennent from Factorydesign notes, “Aviation is a battleground for differentiation. If one airline can offer — or claim to — something better, different or novel compared to their competitors, it provides a commercial advantage.”

Top photo from Philippine Airlines. John Walton is an international transportation and aviation journalist based in France, specializing in airlines, commercial aircraft and the passenger experience.

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Though Jordana Bermúdez isn’t a skateboarder, she found a sense of community at a skate park on Manhattan’s Lower East Side.

The photographer, who relocated from Mexico City to New York City in 2019, grew up roller skating and biking. And it was in Coleman Playground, a stretch of concrete near the waterfront populated with ledges and grind rails, that she felt familiarity amid the unknowns of her new city.

“I grew up going to parks, and surrounded by these people,” Bermúdez said over video. “And I felt safer there.”

She was particularly intrigued by the number of women and non-binary skaters testing tricks and sharing laughs. Since watching Bing Liu’s “Minding the Gap,” a 2018 documentary about male friendships strengthened by skateboarding, Bermúdez had been interested in the skate culture and identity among those who don’t identify as male.

Skateboarder Sarah Seafoss at LES Coleman Playground skate park in Manhattan, New York. Credit: Jordana Bermúdez, @jbtph

Bermúdez, who moved to New York to study at the International Center of Photography, began attending meet-ups organized by two groups: GRLSWIRL, a skate community that began in Venice Beach, California, and Quell, a female-founded media, magazine and podcast brand aiming to “increase visibility for nontraditional skateboarders.” These groups both formed with the intention of providing a safe space for women and gender-nonconforming riders in a sport that is still dominated by men. Bermúdez was quickly pulled into their orbit.

“I couldn’t stop (photographing),” Bermúdez said. “I followed my intuition, and I started going four times a week.”

Her ensuing multimedia project, “Girls Can’t Skate,” was shot over the course of nearly a year and comprises still portraits, GIFs and, during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic in New York, video interviews and virtual photo shoots. By shifting from in-person photographs to Zoom shoots, she could visit people’s homes in an instant, taking pictures of skaters in Arizona and California, in Brazil and Norway.

Though not a skater herself, Bermúdez has become a fixture in the scene, and is even roommates with one of her subjects.

“It’s just so natural to be part of the community,” she said. “They’re very welcoming and inclusive.”

Strength through diversity

GRLSWIRL NYC chapter leader Kristen Noelle skating in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Credit: Jordana Bermúdez, @jbtph

Though women have long been a part of skateboarding, they are not afforded the same visibility or professional opportunities as men — and the gap is even more glaring for gender-nonconforming riders.

The rosters of professional skate teams are still nearly all male, but recent years have seen a handful of firsts for professional female and non-binary skaters. In 2015, Leticia Bufoni became the first female skater to sign for the Nike SB team, and she was joined two years later by non-binary skater Leo Baker. In 2016, Nora Vasconcellos became the first woman to join the Adidas skateboarding team, and in 2017, Samarria Brevard became the first Black woman to sign with skate brand Enjoi.

Adrian Koenigsberg, director of Quell, said that she has witnessed a significant change in attitudes — even in the short time since she founded the brand in 2017.

“When I started Quell, the conversation around gender was nowhere near what it is now,” she said over email. “We were focused on women in skateboarding but now our language has shifted to focus on marginalized genders. When we support others, we make a stronger community.”

Female skateboarders have seen increased presence on screen as well, with a 2019 documentary about young Afghan skaters, “Learning to Skateboard in a Warzone (If You’re a Girl),” winning an Oscar last year, and HBO’s teen comedy “Betty,” which follows a group of girl skaters in New York City, debuting last May.

Thriving under restraints

“I think the amount of people skating since the pandemic has increased tremendously,” she said. “There are more non-male-identifying people absolutely killing skating than ever. There are so many people organizing their own events all over the city.”

Skaters Kristen Noelle, Mary Chun and Charlotte Tegen at 2nd Nature Skate Park in Peekskill, New York. Credit: Jordana Bermúdez, @jbtph

As the community continues to widen, male skaters are becoming more welcoming, according to Kristen Miller, founder of GRLSWIRL’s New York chapter. “Not too long ago, I would always be the only girl at my local skatepark. ‘Men’ would be super aggressive and snake my lines or get in my way on purpose and I would always be the one apologizing, feeling like I was always in their way,” she said over email.

“As the tides have changed this year, I’ve noticed these same men have learned to take a step back and allow their fellow skaters more space at the park (and) they apologize when they accidentally get in our way. (They) see that there are more GRLS than ever before, skating and taking up space, and are showing more respect towards us.”

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When the disgraced health entrepreneur Elizabeth Holmes was indicted on fraud charges for her lab-testing company Theranos in 2018, much of the media discussion rested not on her alleged corporate recklessness and staggering abuses of trust, but on her sartorial choices: black jackets, black slacks, and — most importantly — black turtlenecks.

Steve Jobs has long been associated with turtlenecks. Credit: Justin Sullivan/Getty Images North America/Getty Images

Trivial as it seems, that detail seemed to shed light on her character. According to one former employee, Holmes’s taste in sweaters was a conscious channeling of the late Apple supremo Steve Jobs, who was rarely pictured without one of the many black Issey Miyake turtlenecks he owned. His maverick reputation was associated with his trusty wardrobe staple, his black turtlenecks projecting a cool intellect and general unfussiness. They suggested that he was a different kind of businessman — a “visionary” who did not play by the boardroom rules. Had he dressed like Bill Gates or Jeff Bezos, would we really remember him as anything other than an uncommonly shrewd CEO?

There’s an obvious question here: How did a basic item of clothing come to accumulate such lofty signifiers? The answer lies in its very simplicity. The turtleneck’s appeal rests largely on what it is not: It makes the classic shirt-and-tie combination look priggish and the T-shirt appear formless and slobbish, hitting that otherwise inaccessible sweet spot between formality and insouciance. It is sufficiently smart to be worn under a suit jacket, yet casual and comfortable enough for repeated everyday wear.

Audrey Hepburn pictured on the terrace of the Restaurant Hammetschwand at the summit of the Bürgenstock, Switzerland. Credit: Graphic House/Archive Photos/Getty Images

Developed in the late 19th century as a practical garment for polo players (hence the British name for it: the “polo neck”), it was originally a utilitarian design largely worn by sportsmen, laborers, sailors and soldiers. But by the dawn of the 20th century, European proto-bohemians were already seeing possibilities in the garment’s elegant functionality, which chimed harmoniously with embryonic modernist design ideals.

Much of the credit for the turtleneck’s subsequent popularity can be attributed to British playwright Noël Coward, who regularly sported one for a period in his 1920s heyday. Though he said his adoption of the garment was primarily for reasons of comfort, it became a trademark that immediately suggested a disdain for convention. In any case, it caught on, in no small part due to its risqué possibilities. The tirelessly androgynous actress Marlene Dietrich relished the turtleneck, pairing one with a baggy, masculine suit and a knowing grin in an early 1930s publicity photograph. Writer Evelyn Waugh, meanwhile, believed it to be “most convenient for lechery because it dispenses with all unromantic gadgets like studs and ties.”

German actress Marlene Dietrich, pictured here in 1971, continued to wear black turtlenecks in later life. Credit: George Stroud/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

But the turtleneck’s moment of true glory did not arrive until the end of World War II, when the post-occupation cultural renaissance of Paris made it a must-have for aspirant existentialists the world over. The garment became associated with the glamorous writers, artists, musicians, and film stars associated with the city: Juliette Greco, Yves Montand, Jacques Brel and Miles Davis, to name a few. Audrey Hepburn notably co-opted the look in the Paris-set 1957 Fred Astaire vehicle “Funny Face,” and where Hepburn went, other Hollywood stars followed.

More importantly still, the French associations — moody, chic, deeply serious — earned the turtleneck an underground credibility in the US in the 1950s. Over the next two decades, everyone from Lou Reed and Joan Didion to Eldridge Cleaver and Gloria Steinem was pictured wearing one. Bob Dylan was rarely seen without one in his so-called “Electric Period” of 1965-1966. That same decade, Andy Warhol adopted the black turtleneck as his signature look, pairing it with shades and a floppy wig. It was arguably the most effective makeover in art history; his pre-fame attire consisted of preppy suits and ties.

Yet the turtleneck was always too useful, too practical, too cool, to ever be consigned to the dustbin of history. If in doubt, look at those classic monochrome photographs of the Velvet Underground, or Steve McQueen in “Bullitt” (1968), or Angela Davis in full-on radical garb circa 1969. The list could go on.

But as a devotee of the turtleneck, my favorite image of the garment will always be the earliest depiction of it I’m aware of. Painted in 1898, when he was just 26, the German artist Bernhard Pankok’s best self-portrait captures himself from just above waist-level, framed against the window of a simply decorated room. His wild hair, wispy mustache and expression of supreme confidence look backwards to the young Rembrandt, but the art-historical homage is skewed by the tight-fitting black turtleneck he sports.

In both compositional and sartorial senses, Pankok’s choice of clothing foregoes the extraneous frippery of the era’s fashions — shirt collar, jacket, necktie — and leaves us to contemplate the essentials of the painting and its subject’s features. Long before the rest of the world had caught on, oblivious to the pop-cultural connotations this singularly practical item of clothing would acquire, Pankok distilled the essence of modernity into a single image. He presents himself as a man of the 20th century before the fact and, without knowing it, one for the 21st, too.

This article was originally published in October 2019.

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When photographer David McMillan first visited the city of Pripyat in 1994, he expected his movements to be restricted. Just eight years prior, a reactor at the nearby Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant had exploded, forcing a region-wide evacuation and sending radioactive fallout billowing across Europe.

Yet, the photographer was not only free to roam the 1,000-square-mile Chernobyl Exclusion Zone — which remains largely uninhabited to this day — he was able to get within meters of the damaged reactor.

“The challenge was finding people who could get me in,” he recalled in a phone interview. “I didn’t know where to go; I was at the mercy of drivers and my interpreter.

“I had no real sense of (the danger),” he added. “People just advised me that some areas were heavily contaminated, and that I should maybe only take a minute or two to photograph there.”

McMillan’s images to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone reveal eerily abandoned buildings. Credit: Courtesy David McMillan

This initial trip resulted in a series of eerie images documenting derelict buildings, overgrown playgrounds and vehicles abandoned after the cleanup. It also sparked a curiosity that, over the next quarter-century, would bring the Canadian photographer back to the region more than 20 times.

He has since published 200 of his photos in the book, “Growth and Decay: Pripyat and the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.” They provide an astonishing look at a ghost city largely untouched since the disaster, while exploring the enduring power of nature and the inevitability of decline.

Remains of a ‘showcase’ city

“It must have been beautiful,” said McMillan, who has studied archive images of the area. “It was considered, at the time, to be one of the finest cities to live in the Soviet Union. There were lots of schools and hospitals, and facilities for sports and culture, so it was kind of a showcase city.”

These amenities now lie abandoned, having fallen victim to decay, rust and looting. Many of McMillan’s photos — whether showing empty swimming pools or deserted churches — reveal just how suddenly the city was evacuated.

McMillan shot the same spot multiple times. Credit: Courtesy David McMillan

“In the schools, it felt like it would have if the students had just left for the afternoon,” he said. “There were still teachers’ record books, textbooks, student artwork and things like that.”

The buildings thus served as time capsules, of sorts. Images showing faded portraits of Marx and Engels, or the bust of Lenin in an unkempt yard, capture a particular moment in political history.

But they also demonstrate the power of time. In some cases, McMillan photographed the same spot multiple times, over the course of many years, to highlight the deterioration of the built environment.

One of the most powerful examples is a series of images taken in a kindergarten stairwell. The first, captured in 1994, depicts brightly-colored flags of the former Soviet republics affixed to a peeling wall. By the time of the latest photograph, taken in November 2018, just one remains — and it has been damaged and discolored beyond recognition.

“If you came upon it, you wouldn’t know what it had been; you wouldn’t even see that it might have been the representation of a flag,” McMillan said. “It seemed to me symbolic of the way our own memory of the Soviet era is vanishing into history.”

Photos of playgrounds and slides also provide pertinent symbols of time’s passing. The children that once played there will now be in their thirties or forties.

“But there’s probably an unavoidable — and I’m reluctant to say this — beauty (to the decay),” he added. “I’ve found that the walls have sort of ripened.”

Nature’s return

As his book’s title, “Growth and Decay,” suggests, McMillan is concerned with both the retreat of humankind and the reappearance of nature. Landscapes in his photos, while bleak, feature blossoming plants and trees bursting through manmade structures.

“People weren’t around, and when nature wasn’t being cut back and cultivated, it just grew wild and reclaimed itself,” the photographer said. “I guess it was heartening to see this kind of regrowth, and inevitable to see culture vanishing.”

“There has been a repopulation of animals, and someone even told me that the birding (bird watching) there is among the best in Europe.”

Plants and trees have regrown in some of the buildings. Credit: Courtesy David McMillan

McMillan’s images also feature portraits of people he encountered within the Exclusion Zone, including engineers, laborers and scientists hunting wildlife to measure radiation in their organs. One image, taken in 1995, shows a woman returning to her village to clean ancestral graves.

Having met so many returnees, McMillan is relatively relaxed about the possible implications for his own health. Now in his 70s, he typically visits for a week at a time, meaning that he has spent months — cumulatively — inside the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.

One of his original guides has contracted lymphoma since leaving Ukraine for Canada, though the photographer said it’s unclear whether radiation is to blame.

“The thing about radiation is that it’s intangible,” McMillan said. “When I did bring a dosimeter with me on one occasion, (the radiation levels) were so irregular. They weren’t the same throughout the Exclusion Zone — it’s very variable.”

The Canadian photographer has visited the region more than 20 times. Credit: Courtesy David McMillan

As contamination lessens with each passing year, so too does the risk, the photographer explained. A newly built “sarcophagus” (known as Chernobyl New Safe Confinement) now encases the reactor, replacing the temporary concrete wrapper first erected in 1986 to contain the fallout.

“There are people living in some (nearby) areas that are less contaminated, so I’ve never worried,” he said.

“Now, a more real hazard is that the buildings are collapsing. They seem delicate sometimes, (and) when you’re walking through them, you just don’t know what could happen.”

This article was originally published in April 2019. It has since been updated to reflect that the population of Pripyat was once home to around 50,000 people. The gallery was also updated to remove one of the images because it unintentionally showed graffiti with derogatory language.

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(CNN) — They’re pristine, wild and extremely hot — and not just because of the high temperature and the stunning volcanic landscape with constant little eruptions.

Stromboli and Filicudi, two beautiful islands in Sicily’s Aeolian archipelago, are believed by some to have magical, aphrodisiac powers ideal for those seeking — or desperately trying to recover — the ecstasy of passionate nights.

Which is why they’re often known as the “fertility atolls.”

Locals say the islands have have become “sex pilgrimage,” sites due to their apparent ability to raise libidos. They also claim, although it’s not clear exactly how they know, that the relaxing environment encourages couples to engage in bedroom experimentation.

The islands’ warm thermal waters, the spectacular lava flow scars, its intriguing grottoes and mysterious flowers are considered an “orgasmic” cocktail that apparently turn people on.

Newlywed couples longing to have a baby are said to flock here from all over the world, while young women hoping to find a man say silent prayers in front of odd-looking sea stacks that thrust into the air like… well, you get the idea.

Lava fireworks

Stromboli has been in almost continuous eruption for millennia.

Silvia Marchetti

Stromboli, one of the world’s most active volcanoes, is said to be the most aphrodisiac of the islands.

It can be a little unsettling, even if your mind isn’t on more carnal pursuits. There are frequent eruptions, every 15 minutes or so, with smoky cannonball blasts that make the ground rumble and hearts palpitate.

The volcano’s flanks are patchworks of yellow, red, orange, black and green sand and rocks covered in pink flowers. Former lava flows scorched huge scars on the landscape that are known as “sciare.”

The jet-black scenery contrasts with the translucent aquamarine water and the string of whitewashed houses that runs from the island’s port to its lonely beach of Piscità. There are boat tours at night that let visitors admire the lava fireworks under starry skies.

At each eruption of the Black Giant, as Stromboli is known, heat builds up beneath the ground and is released underwater through tiny air bubbles. At night, when the air temperature cools, roads and sidewalks are hot to the touch and rough stone walls radiate heat.

“It’s a very sensual place, an isle of fire and passion,” says Maria Puglisi, a local wine trader. “You can feel the constant vibrations inside of you each time the pinnacle erupts; it’s like if the volcano explodes in your body. It’s a powerful, aphrodisiac pull.”

‘Naughty boy’

Locals say people who climb the volcano often strip naked.

Silvia Marchetti

Many people who embark on an eight-hour trek up to the crater like to strip naked, she says, and lie with their bellies on the trembling soil to better feel the eruptions and vibrations run through their bodies.

“It’s an orgasmic experience, a ritual that ignites passionate sex. The heat and volcanic beat get into your blood and trigger this sexual vibe in the air. The volcano is alive, we call it “Iddu” (him), and he’s guilty of turning folks on. He’s a naughty boy.”

Stromboli’s unique nocturnal scents and pungent air are also blamed for heightening ardor.

The island is also home to an unusual plant that’s said to release a hypnotic fragrance during the night which boosts libido and is believed to help couples conceive.

“It’s called cestrum nocturnum and its greenish-white flowers bloom only when the sun sets,” says Luisa Paduano, owner of Le Terrazza di Eolo, a seafood restaurant with panoramic views over an extinct volcanic crater known as Strombolicchio. “That’s when it does its magic. We call it Lady of the Night or Beauty of the Night.

“Its fragrance is so strong, so overpowering, that it can cause a pleasant dizziness and it lingers until the first hours of the morning. Most dwellings here have this plant on the porch or in front of the main door. It makes you feel good.”

Hypnotic night plant

Cestrum nocturnum, which grows all over Stromboli, is said to be an aphrodisiac.

Silvia Marchetti

Cestrum nocturnum’s aroma apparently relaxes people, combats stress and eases daily tensions. Paduano keeps one at the entrance of her establishment.

“Ever since ancient times, cestrum nocturnum has been considered an aphrodisiac plant; it boosts romance and lovemaking,” she adds. “So many singles who meet here for holidays end up falling in love and return to celebrate their wedding or their child’s birth.”

Aristocrats and lyrical poets composed sonnets in the past hailing the erotic properties of cestrum, which dots every corner of Stromboli.

Belonging to the jasmine species, it may fool the occasional passerby. During the day it appears quite a dull plant, resembling a shrub. It is not strikingly beautiful, but when night falls it comes into its own.

Originally found in more tropical climates, legend has it that Italian explorer Christopher Columbus brought cestrum back from the New World and it found an ideal habitat in extremely hot spots like Stromboli.

But most locals say it is indigenous, a “child of the volcano,” and are proud of their plant’s powers, also said to include Viagra-like properties. They like to joke about their island being “always in heat.”

Erotic sea stacks and caves

La Canna, an 85-meter phallic projection off the coast of Filicudi, is said to bring good luck.

Silvia Marchetti

On the nearby island of Filicudi the “sexy” natural elements include phallic sea stacks and secluded grottoes said to be frequented by couples who, on the pretext of using them to shelter from the sun, often end up conceiving babies.

Sailing on sparkling green waves, local fishermen have been known to drop couples off in so-called “fertility caves.” They also offer a service taking young single ladies on a boat tour that includes touching unusually shaped rocks said to offer luck in the search for love.

Nino Terrano of I Delfini diving center says he often brings women out “to discover the ragged sea stacks that surround the isle, of the weirdest shapes and colors.”

“One such rock, shaped like male genitalia, is said to bring good luck: girls who stroke it will end up finding a guy, get married and have lots of kids.”

The main highlight on the rock-caressing boat tour is La Canna, an 85-meter volcanic protrusion that juts out of the emerald sea off Filicudi’s shore. Some say it resembles the head of a cobra or a rifle, but most see in it the representation of a huge phallus reaching for the sky. Its name means “rod” or “cane,” and you don’t need an Italian dictionary of slang to understand why.

The spot also lures rock-climbing enthusiasts and is home to a unique lizard serpent that also sparks curiosity among visitors.

Filicudi has a primeval vibe that awakens senses and pleasure, locals insist. Older village women have been known to make fertility potions.

“This is the island where you’ll find love, no matter how or where you look for it, even if it comes at a later stage and somewhere else,” says Enzo Anastasi of Hotel La Canna. “This place prepares the ground for whatever passion destiny has in store for you. After all, here’s where I met and married my wife.”

It’s a place of unspoilt nature. There’s only a fishing village, Pecorini a Mare, with pastel-colored houses, two little harbors and one single road that circles the island.

Lovers’ Cave

Lovers’ Cave is said to be popular with amorous couples.

Silvia Marchetti

Steep dusty stone paths and old donkey trails connect bright dwellings with thatched terraces covered in bougainvilleas and made of white columns and maiolica benches.

Filicudi’s cliffs are black, green and red with labyrinths of grottoes. Ruins of a prehistoric hamlet and ruined farm huts dot the shore.

Nino Terrano enjoys showing his guests fascinating rock patterns and playing with their imagination. Waves and sand layers have drawn colorful designs in the cliff side that he says resemble gods making love to women and babies being born.

The myriad of sea grottoes are popular spots among couples looking for privacy.

Among them is Lovers’ Cave, where it is said that if a man and a woman enter the cave as two people, they will inevitably succumb to lust and come out as three, with a baby just conceived.

“It’s a mystery, there’s something in that cave that drives hormones wild and blinds people with desire,” says Terrano.

To enhance the experience and further boost libido, Terrano often dives from his boat to fetch raw sea urchins — a major aphrodisiac treat — to serve pronto to his clients on a slice of grilled bruschetta bread.

As if they’d need it.

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