Evil Eye Etiquette: How to Praise a Beautiful Person Without Cursing the Evening

Here is a delicate truth about compliments in many Mediterranean and Middle Eastern homes: praise can be dangerous. The belief in the evil eye holds that an admiring glance, even an innocent one, can bring misfortune to the admired. So the wise speaker pairs every compliment with a little protective phrase, like tucking an umbrella into the sentence before the rain arrives. Beauty must be named, but gently, and with a charm.

In Turkish, the phrase is maşallah, what God has willed, and it is said right after the praise: what lovely eyes, maşallah. In Arabic, mashallah does the same job, and in Persian you might hear chashm-e bad dour, may the evil eye stay far. Greek speakers spit lightly, ftou ftou ftou, a performance that sounds rude and means the opposite. Each phrase is the little knock on wood you give a compliment.

Who says them? Almost everyone, but grandmothers guard the tradition with the most seriousness. If you admire a baby without the protective word, an aunt may quietly add it for you, correcting your manners without a flicker. At weddings and new-baby visits, the phrase flies thick. It is not superstition performed grimly. It is tenderness with a safety rail, and the person receiving the compliment usually feels doubly cherished.

In Turkish, the phrase is maşallah, what God has willed, and it is said right after the praise: what lovely eyes, maşallah.

How warm is it? Very, and in a lovely, domestic way. The phrase says I admire you, and I also care about what happens to you after I walk away. For a flirt, that is quietly seductive. Telling someone they are stunning, maşallah, tells them you noticed and you wished them well. It turns a plain compliment into a blessing, and a blessing is much harder to forget.

The safe moment to try it is a sincere one: a friend in a new outfit, a host with a beautiful table, a date whose laugh has just filled the room. Say the praise, then the charm, with a soft voice and a smile. If you forget the charm, laugh and add it late, which is always accepted. And never use it sarcastically, because the whole point is protection offered in good faith.

If you want to hear it done with proper timing, TheFriend is a nice place to listen, and the confessions there, like Aysu's whispered diner-booth night, are full of the kind of compliments that make you want to knock on wood afterward. Come and be praised carefully.