Celebration: An Anthology to Commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Silliman University National Writers Workshop Sands and Coral, 2011-2013
Silliman University, 2013
Fans of the old movie will either love this, or be indifferent to it. As someone who once had a phase in my life where I’d wake up every morning by playing the opening sequences of the 2006 film, to the tune of “Suddenly I See” by KT Tunstall, I am glad to report that I am of the first variety.
I love this film.
It falls short of the perfection of the first one, but who cares? I like that it basically follows the same beats, but explores a sadder [maybe the better phrase is “more serious”?] narrative, particularly the implosion of journalism as we know it, and the takeover of the world by doofusy techbros who want to destroy everything — which is quite reflective of our 2026 realities. I think that for the seriousness of the subject matter, some might find this film a bit off the mark [or a slight disappointment], given the fact that the first one was really a simpler story about a young girl and her post-collegiate coming-of-age surrounded by high fashion.
But I’m glad that this film chose not to delve into similar territory, choosing instead to highlight what bedevils us today, albeit in a lighter way. [I’m sure that if it didn’t, it would attract brickbats about how tone deaf it is to current realities.] But, people, we need to grow up.
But I like that it chose to do this, yet still forges an organic continuity with the older film: previous betrayals find new avenues for redemption, previous anxieties reveal themselves to be analogous to current anxieties [i.e., people never really change, and Andy is still the same Andy], and old comradeships are deepened by astute revelations that do not contradict how the characters were like in the older iteration. [In this instance, it is Stanley Tucci’s Nigel who becomes the film’s heart.]
I love that fashion is very much alive in this film, I love that Emily shouts at Donatella Versace in Italian, and that Lady Gaga hates Miranda. I love that Miranda’s titular devil is purposefully diminished in this movie [she hangs her own robes! she is careful not to say bad words in meetings lest HR intervenes! she flies coach!] — but finally finds a love in a new husband who seems supportive and unfazed by his wife’s power. I love that she still remains wise about how she can survive the demands and the diminishments of the future, that she still remains the vanguard of the beautiful despite the world becoming ugly.
This is a fantastic continuation to an iconic film.
9:10 AM |
The Heritage That Goes Into Sinina Dumagueteña
Tonight, May 11, as part of Dumaguete’s Heritage Month celebration and also its ongoing effort to commemorate the diamond jubilee of its charter, the city took to the runway at the Pantawan People’s Park to showcase Sinina Dumagueteña, the latest iteration of a fashion show that first bowed—to glowing success—last November. I remember that first show well; it was an incredible showcase, not just of elegance and beauty, but also, when done right, of heritage and history. This time around, it helps that modeling the clothes for this edition are the various faces that make up the candidates of Miss Dumaguete Diamond Jubilee Queen, whose crowning moment will come at the end of the month. Saturday night truly became a confluence of two riches—arts and beauty: celebrating a sense of Dumaguete fashion, and a sense of Dumagueteña beauty.
What is Sinina Dumagueteña? It is a conflation, and celebration, of two things—“sinina,” or dress, and “Dumagueteña,” or the fair woman of Dumaguete.
But fashion is not always something we equate with in terms of Dumaguete culture, but we do have a deep heritage for dress-making over the decades, and a treasury of fashion mavens that have helped shape the industry not just locally, but also nationally, and internationally.
Until the 1980s, most homes in Dumaguete had their own in-house sastre. These women, and often men, just sewed the whole day, mending bedsheets, and tablecloths, and curtains, and table napkins, and clothes, and socks. They sewed uniforms and dresses and children’s clothes, and some of them came to be known as the best of Dumaguete’s sastres, like Isabel “Boom” Roxas, Jeanne Ong, Digna Coo, and Tingting Delfin. Some of them opened dressmaking shops that catered to the very discriminating taste of the Dumaguete woman.
Over the years, we’ve also had fashion designers who started out in Dumaguete, and soon came to make their mark in the Manila fashion scene, such as Fred Quimat, Amir Sali, Alexis Monsanto, Rajo Laurel, and Dan Dvran. In the international scene, we have John David Pfeiffer, who has worked for so long as the fashion casting agent for the Victoria’s Secret fashion show and has worked with many designers such as Michael Kors, Vera Wang, and Donna Karan.
Sinina Dumagueteña is an acknowledge of this fashion heritage, as well as a continuation. Last night, we showcased the works of five Dumaguete fashion designers—Anthony Sinco, Maui Lezama, Dan Duran, Larry R. Ybesate, and Tingting Delfin—because together, they create a spectrum of Dumaguete fashion past and present but always forever.
Anthony Sinco was born and raised in Dumaguete. His passion for fashion started with a simple Barbie doll—he simply found joy and creativity in dressing the doll up! His determination to become a fashion designer never wavered despite being bullied for these passions, and for him, the journey was not easy. But he threw himself into every opportunity, participating in school activities and pushing his talents into the spotlight, from local competitions to national ones. A fashion competition in Dumaguete paved the way, and his win rekindled the flame of his ambitions and marked the beginnings of his life as a fashion designer. He pursued vocational courses in dressmaking and tailoring at TESDA, and gained hands-on experience and technical expertise. He attended the Fashion Institute of the Philippines, which embraced his aspirations and propelled him into a world where he could fully express his creativity. His designs began to gain recognition, and soon, he was collecting awards, each one a testament to his dedication and the unique vision. His story is a testament to the power of resilience and the courage to pursue one’s dreams against all odds.
Maui Lezama’s journey into the world of fashion began at four when she discovered her passion for design amidst the bustling atmosphere of her mother's dress shop in San Carlos City, Negros Occidental. Even then, she displayed a keen eye for detail, often requesting the dressmakers to fashion miniature gowns for her beloved Barbie dolls. Despite initially pursuing a degree in BA Psychology at the University of the Philippines Cebu, her heart remained drawn to the world of fashion. She embarked on a second degree at UP Diliman, immersing herself in the intricacies of clothing technology. Though her academic path took unexpected turns, her dedication to her craft never wavered. Continuing her education at FIDA Cebu, under the guidance of a former mentor, she honed her skills and expanded her creative horizons. Maui's talent and perseverance soon garnered recognition on a national scale, with notable achievements such as being named a finalist in Jose Natori's esteemed FDCP Modern Terno Fashion Design Competition in 2014. Her innovative designs, including a sinamay romper adorned by the radiant Jasmine Curtis on a magazine cover, captivated audiences and solidified her reputation as a rising star in the industry. Her journey led her to the vibrant fashion scene of Doha, Qatar, where she lent her expertise as a couture designer in 2019. However, her heart remained rooted in her homeland, and today, she proudly serves clients in Dumaguete and Cebu, crafting exquisite formal wear for special occasions. Maui's contributions extend beyond the realm of fashion. Embracing her role as a custodian of culture, she actively supports the local sinamay industry, infusing her creations with the rich heritage of Negros Oriental. In doing so, she not only celebrates tradition but also empowers local artisans, ensuring the legacy of Filipino craftsmanship endures for generations to come.
A Siaton-based fashion designer and visual artist, Dan Dvran has always been artistic since he was young and initially decided to focus on becoming a visual artist after finishing college. But he was given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to pursue another passion, fashion design, at the School of Fashion in the Arts on full scholarship. His practice in fashion is experimental draping and creative pattern cutting, a combination that earned him a medal in the first TernoCon. In 2022, he decided to pursue the visual arts again together with fashion. His style in art is defined in expressionist and collage forms and always trying to answer a question in this world.
Larry R. Ybesate is a versatile professional known for his beauty pageant coaching, makeup artistry, and design. His journey began at an early age, while working alongside his skilled seamstress mother, which sparked a lifelong passion for design. Through immersive workshops and hands-on experience, he honed his craft, specializing in creating exquisite evening and bridal gowns that enhance the innate beauty of his clientele. He has served as both a makeup artist and designer for prestigious competitions such as Miss Universe Philippines, Binibining Pilipinas, and Miss Earth, among others. His distinctive designs and creations have graced many events, making him a sought-after designer by local celebrities and personalities.
Finally, there’s the legendary Tingting Delfin! Fashion became a significant part of Tingting’s life in the mid-1970s during the Miss Universe pageant, which was held in the country. His exposure to beautiful dresses during this event, alongside his father who was hosting, sparked his interest. In grade school, he moved to Cebu City, where he participated in art competitions. He spent high school at Foundation University, where he designed the costumes for the dance troupe, as well as his teachers, and later became the founder and choreographer of the Buglasayaw Dance Troupe. After high school, he spent over two years in Manila, working as a fashion illustrator and creating costumes for various events. In the 1990s, he worked as a fashion designer in Cebu City before being invited to join Jean Ong Fashion Studio as in house designer in Dumaguete. He has held multiple roles such as pageant director, choreographer, set designer, make up artist, and more. He has since organized fashion shows such as the back-to-back fashion extravaganzas with Rajo Laurel and Adwin Farajado in 2001, including memorable ones like the 2011 Sinamay Collection at Intramuros Tourism Conference and the 2007 Dumaguete Kasalang Filipino.
These five, and others like Josip Tumapa, Gerry Fernandez, Ritchie Teves, and their ilk, are the continuing evidence Dumaguete always has a strong heritage of design and style.
“Girls in the Windows,” photographed by Ormond Gigli in the summer of 1960 in New York. Made on a whim, made without a commission. Gigli looked out the windows of his studio one morning, and saw the brownstone right outside being readied for demolition. He thought he could use this condemned building for a photo, with girls in bright dresses in every gaping, empty window. He had someone ask the foreman of the demolition crew if he could use the building for an hour, and was told he could do it the next day, during the crew’s lunch time [and to use the foreman’s wife as one of the models]. Gigli made the calls to a modeling agency asking for volunteers, and he arranged the permits as soon as he could. The next day, on the appointed time, he had second thoughts — but the girls were already arriving. He went ahead anyway, directing the photo shoot with a bullhorn. He took 15-18 shots with a 4×5 Speed Graphic. The very next day, the building was demolished. And the photo went on to become an icon.
The s.o. gifted me with this rad facemask designed by Subida Souvenirs. The pandemic is fraught with both danger and dullness, but a spot of color and stylishness can help.
[85th of 100]. I never thought of including documentaries in this list, because that felt like another list deserving of its own spotlight. Truth to tell, my favorite documentaries number beyond a hundred, and I actually do have a stronger preference for non-fiction. I thought that including this tradition of cinema in this list might eclipse narrative film altogether -- but nearing the tail-end of this endeavour, I've realized what a taxing, if also rewarding, exercise this has been, and I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to do the same for documentary films. And so I am placed in the most excruciating of positions: to choose just one favorite among the many. I could go the classic route and choose Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat or Nanook of the North or Man With a Movie Camera. Or I could go for the iconic and choose Grey Gardens or Woodstock or Salesman or the Up Series. Or I could go to the poetic and choose Baraka or Nostalgia for the Light or Microcosmos or Aquarela or Last and First Men or Honeyland. Or I could go for the strange and choose The Emperor's Naked Army Marches On or Gates of Heaven or Catfish. Or I could go for the historical and choose Last Days of Vietnam or The Act of Killing or The Kingmaker or Batas Militar or The Missing Picture or Night & Fog or Shoah. Or I could go for the scientific and choose A Brief History of Time or Aliens of the Deep. Or I could go for personal chronicles of uncommon or disrupted lives and choose As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty or Sunday Beauty Queen or Capturing the Friedmans or Stories We Tell or Three Identical Strangers. Or I could go for hero-making biographies such as Citizen Jane: Battle for the City or RBG or I Am Not Your Negro. Or I could go for the observational and choose At Berkeley or Ex Libris: The New York Public Library. Or I could go for the controversial and go for Olympia or Mondo Cane or The Thin Blue Line or Roger & Me or Deliver Us From Evil or Jesus Camp or An Inconvenient Truth or Waltz With Bashir or Hail, Satan? or The Terrorists or The Aristocrats or The Cove or Super Size Me. Or I could go for the delightful and choose Spellbound or Wordplay or Kedi or March of the Penguins. Or I could go for the suspenseful and choose Free Solo. Or I could go for the intellectual and choose Derrida or Public Speaking or Regarding Susan Sontag. I love films about gay concerns, and I could choose The Celluloid Closet or Paris is Burning or Before Stonewall or The Times of Harvey Milk or Tickled or The Case Against 8. I love films about artists in pursuit of their craft, and I could easily go for Jiro Dreams of Sushi or Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse or City of Gold or Exit Through the Gift Shop or Style Wars or Helvetica or De Palma or Everything is Copy: Nora Ephron, Scripted and Unscripted or Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold or What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael or Waking Sleeping Beauty or Seymour: An Introduction or Cutie and the Boxer or Hitchcock/Truffaut or The Price of Everything or Shirkers or Unzipped or Madonna: Truth or Dare or Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry or Spielberg or Six by Sondheim or Ballet 422 or Pina or Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel or Jodorowky's Dune or Man on Wire or Becoming Mike Nichols or The Kid Stays in the Picture or Mori: The Artists Habitat or Bill Cunningham New York or The First Monday in May or Finding Vivian Maier or The Decline of Western Civilization or The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness or Tim's Vermeer or Faces, Places or Filmworker or Crumb. Do you see what I mean? It's an impossibility, so I'll choose something that I've found myself perpetually delighted by even in repetition -- and if you've noticed, I have a particular weakness for documentaries about artistry and creatives. And I've chosen the 2009 documentary by R.J. Cutler about the making of Vogue Magazine's heftiest, and most sought after, monthly issue. I love the film because it is ostensibly a work documentary following American Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour -- clearly her personal response to The Devil Wears Prada, the fictional expose, in book and subsequent film adaptation, that dared bear her alleged workplace toxicity. But in following their subject around as she goes through the grind of finishing the most demanding issue of the year, the film finds itself becoming a treatise about staying true to one's artistic vision under the heels of pedestrian and commercial concerns. It makes that turn when it discovers editor Grace Coddington, the perfect foil to Wintour and her struggles to juggle the demands of the bottomline, editing just enough of the artistry to populate the meager page counts with, and staying right ahead or on top of the cutting edge of fashion's many dicta. It is clearly not an enviable job, and I can understand the icy stance Wintour puts on, perhaps as shield to the hard editorial decisions she has to make. But this also makes out Coddington as the free-spirit art director, always fighting for more pages for her truly remarkable fashion photos, and always trying to subvert the fashion world's expectations. [On hearing that Wintour has ordered the pot belly of the film's cameraman -- who was used as minor subject in one of the magazine's approved photo shoots -- be airbrushed, Coddington quickly calls the art department for it to refrain from doing so. "We need this to be realistic," she tells the camera.] That push and pull between Wintour and Coddington is all the more interesting because it is not really antagonistic, but more of a strange kind of complementary. As Coddington would confess to the camera: "She knows how to push me, and I know how to push her." The film also has a special allure for me because it is also a story of journalism -- magazine-making is a very special niche -- and it has allowed me a sobering look into the hard work of creating those glossy pages. It informs me above all that the primary qualification of a good editor is really singular vision-keeping. I once worked for an editor who was too timid, and lacked a strong editorial voice: her way of managing her staff was to take in everyone's suggestions and ideas without really processing if they worked together. The resulting publication was a terrible hodgepodge that defied description. This film taught me the fine balance between editorial firmness and artistic flight. What's the film?
I think it's very much like shopping and a denial of buyer's remorse.
"I swear this shirt is cool. I didn't actually really notice these prints were animal prints -- but you know, be an environmentalist and stuff, right?"
"It's not that tight. [Catches breath.]"
"Let's just say na lang this pair of pants will motivate me to go to gym. It's, ummm, cool."
"The children who made this sweater in that Cambodian sweatshop are at least earning for their family. You know."
I've come to realise this: let people wear what they want to wear. But do Instagram it, and make that your Throwback Thursday years from now.
8:37 PM |
Dumaguete Fashion Photography, Circa 2010
Fashion photography in Dumaguete, circa 2010. You'd think that five years later, things would evolve to become even better things. But it is, after all, for a place that's next to a bay, a water city: things come and go with the flow of time, nothing really takes root, nothing really evolves beyond the initial gasp of creativity. I wish it weren't so, but it is. Photos courtesy of local fashion designer Josip Tumapa.
No one argues with Coco Chanel. The legendary fashion designer once said: “Dress shabbily, and they remember the dress. Dress impeccably, and they remember the woman.”
This declaration defined, with the same stylish precision of a Chanel suit, the importance of dressing well. And perhaps, rallying to this call, the truly stylish among us—and not merely the unfortunate fashion victim—aim for that impeccability of dress. Why? To make a mark, to forge an identity, to express who we are. Fashion becomes emblematic in this regard—and perhaps this is why a particular species of enterprising people have evolved to answer that need. You know who they are. The stylists.
Stylists, especially the best ones, are avid readers of fashion. They are the able conjurers of sartorial language, which marries personality with cut fabric. On television, we get Rachel Zoe—although one might make the argument she does not exactly typify the best of such strange occupation. So forget Rachel Zoe. There’s somebody in Dumaguete who does exactly the same thing as the reality TV fixture does, but with decidedly less mugging for the camera. And decidedly with more creativity. Her name is Veronica Valente-Vicuña, and one can say she has made a life and career over her uncanny sense of what works for you, fashion-wise.
“I have always enjoyed going to flea markets and ukay-ukay, ever since college,” Rona told me. “Being a bargain hunter, I get a rush when I find pretty items which would cost triple or more if sold in department stores. Even if the clothing item would be too big for me, I would still get it because my thinking is, I could just have it altered down to my size.”
Stylist and designer Rona Valente-Vicuna
Eventually that nose for bargain and style led to a kind of fashionable hording. “Soon I had bags and bags full of dresses,” Rona remembered, “So I thought, why not sell some?”
She started toying with that idea of commercializing her sense of fashion in 2006, but it took her until February of 2007 to get things really going. She opened her online store Veronica’s Closet, initially listing only just six choice items.
To her delighted surprise, the dresses sold out within hours. “That encouraged me more,” Rona said, “And soon, with a good client list growing, I had to make a weekly upload schedule to keep up with the customer demand.”
A few of summers ago, she found herself participating in a program for fashion designing in Cebu. “I learned quite a lot from some of Cebu’s top fashion designers,” she said. That summer program ended with a fashion show at the Waterfront, which featured the participants’ new designs, things they created for class.
This soon paved the way for better things. “Subsequently, I was invited by Anya Lim of Anthill Fabric Gallery in Cebu to display some items from my website,” Rona said. “She had been buying regularly from my site, and she wanted me to sell my re-made dresses in her fabric gallery. She encouraged me to come up with a line, where altered and reconstructed vintage dresses are showcased.” Rona chose the name Re/Dress for the line, which meant, simply, “to re-do the dress.”
She explained the concept behind the project: “Some dresses may have beautiful fabrics, but the dress may not be worn again due to tiny rips, runs, and others. This is where I come in. I totally revamp the dress. Using what fabric can be salvaged from it, I then add new fabrics and restyle the old design.” Clearly, what had began as a hobby—transforming old dresses and making them different and more fashionably current—soon became one of her sources of income. “And relaxation, too,” Rona admitted.
What is the underlying philosophy of her work? “To provide unique dresses, which are extra-special because of the history behind it, them being vintage,” Rona said. “As a member of Anthill Fabric Gallery and Stylissimo Sessions of Cebu, I believe in thinking green. By using old materials, I can do my part in saving the environment.” This philosophy led her to become part of a fashion show in Cebu called Greenology, where designers made dresses using retaso and recyclable materials. “I used old neckties for the headpiece, as well as men’s blazers and pieces from an old computer keyboard,” she recalled with a smile.
But her sense of style is not without study. For Rona, her influences consist of the style icons of past, which include Audrey Hepburn. “It is because of her femininity and how she carried men’s inspired clothing,” Rona said. “Her style was never fussy. She kept it neat and clean. You can’t go wrong with that.” There is also 1960s model Twiggy, whose slender figure—being both boyish and also ultra-girlie—was an inspiration for great designers of the time. “She rocked the mod look!” Rona said. “I love mod. Floral and geometrical patterns make me happy as well as solid-colored dresses decorated with bows and ribbons, buttons and zippers!”
From such confessions, one readily sees that for Rona, the love of vintage and everything related to it is what defines her sense of style.
Take her first collection Lavender Fields with Anthill Fabric Gallery, for example. The whole look of the series foregrounds her aesthetics, which is essentially a worship of a laid-back vibe, hippie luxe and classic vintage all at the same time. There are the flowy dresses in paisley or floral prints, dresses with gauzy or silk fabrics, dresses with billowy white peasant shirts complete with embroidery—a style that defines what for Rona is soft, fun and young. There is the dress with the printed bib and belt from a vintage 70’s blouse, to which she added a gaze faconne fabric, which is like chiffon but is a bit stretchable. “I also re-used the original buttons from the blouse,” Rona said. “This dress is BoHo-inspired.” There are more of the kind in her inventory.
Gesta Gamo models one of Rona's creations
And what does she hope the future can bring for her? “I’m taking things in stride,” she said. “For Veronica’s Closet, I hope to have a name for myself in the local Internet market as the shop to go for vintage and vintage-inspired dresses. For Re/Dress, I am currently laying out the beginnings of what will be my spring/summer collection. And maybe one fine day, I can get featured in Preview, my favorite magazine. I can dream right?”
I love the film version of The Devil Wears Prada, but for me, it pales in comparison to the stark fashion reality that is Unzipped, Douglas Keeve's film about fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi as he tries to put out his 1994 winter collection. This is simply one of my favorite documentaries. But I have always been fascinated by movies that take into account the creative process of artists and the brilliant madness that go with it -- and this one, showcasing the beautiful pandemonium that is the fashion world, provides one of the most insightful look. (Plus, it doesn't hurt that we become somewhat privy to an aspect of the lives of supermodels and stars... See Linda Evangelista snarl! Hear Naomi Campbell sing!) The film, and I'm lifting this wholesale from the Amazon description, "begins with Mizrahi reading mixed reviews of his 1993 show of new outfits and then follows him for the next year as [he] seeks inspiration for his next public showcase. Sardonic, witty, and immensely likable, Mizrahi sets about finding his new muse, which turns out to be a lively but unlikely marriage of '1950s cheesecake meets Eskimo fake fur.' Keeve shows us most stages of the production process and the related disasters and heightened anxieties that attend. He also gives us a big finish with a fly-on-the-wall look at the backstage mania that fuels those celebrity-packed rituals, where leggy supermodels walk dispassionately down long runways. Some of the best, bitchiest stuff is in the way the busy models deal with the presence of Keeve's cameras: Naomi Campbell comes across as a crab while Cindy Crawford could easily be anybody's swell, flirty pal. But we already knew that, didn't we? Shot mostly in black and white, with color stock reserved, quite wisely, for the climactic big show." I had a VHS copy of this film way back in college, but you know how time does not exactly bode well for old-fashioned magnetic tape: it became fodder for mildew. I have never found a DVD copy of this anywhere, but guess what. I found the entire film in YouTube, where all good cinematic things seem to happen. This is the first clip of eight parts:
Follow the links in the original YouTube page, and enjoy the rest of the film as I did years ago. (And isn't Sandra Bernhard's version of "You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)" in the beginning of the film simply magnificent? I had no idea the comedian could sing soulfully like that.)
I want to like Project Runway Philippines. When you're a great fan of the U.S. original, a local incarnation has to be part of your TV viewing life. And I do like it, albeit grudgingly and with an allowance for tolerance. There's drama naman -- put a bunch of attention-craving flamboyant gay men in a room, ask them to compete, and then watch sparks fly -- and some of the contenders do have a great eye for fashion, notably excepting the lola who was cut first and had no business being there in the first place. I do try to watch the weekly installments. But what's with the horrid lighting that makes everyone look cadaver-pasty? What's with the barriotic-looking SoFA that looks like a spiffed up version of a baranggay hall? What's with the echoing runway made obviously of plywood that booms with Teresa's every step? What's with the drab production design? What's with the barely-there editing? What's with the pulot-sa-palengke models? And what's with the zombie music (by Diego Mapa) that absolutely refuses to insert some much-needed thrill into the segments? If you remember, in the original, the music -- the fashion soundtrack and the dramatic segues that herald each pronouncement by Heidi Klum -- is a great part of its appeal. Here, it sounds like a monkey just had his way with a keyboard.
The overall impression: a galling undercurrent of cheapness -- like the vomitus Nesvita "colors" they lavishly draped over all the last episode -- that has absolutely no place in fashion television. And the judges, by the latest episode, look like they're all so tired and would rather be somewhere else. Jojie Lloren, with his cringe-inducing bangs, is no Tim Gunn who cuts elegantly both as a critic and as a mentor. Rajo Laurel is okay, but has yet to grow into the gravity that is Michael Kors. I can't say anything about Apples Aberin without rolling my eyes. This is our Nina Garcia? I told Myrza I'd rather see her as one of the judges. She sent me a smiley over text.
Truth to tell, fashion shows in Dumaguete are usually a joke of microscopic proportions. They are, if we have to be honest about it, only a tad better than tawdry beauty pageants and tawdrier bikini shows. More often than not, they are dimly-lit and barely rehearsed affairs that string together a hodge-podge of ukay wear. The female models are often unfashionably short, and the male ones are often kargador-ic—the types who soon would go about town telling people with such delusional sincerity, “I’m a model.” The dresses themselves are often taken from the racks of second-rate boutiques around town whose idea of fashion is more Jolina Magdangal than Stella McCartney. Sometimes a local fashionista, eager to put on a show, would merely cut denims to shreds and call them “avant-garde streetwear,” giving a bad name to “avant-garde” and “streetwear.” When there are legitimate designs to show, the construction is mostly sadsack—as evidenced by the way Patis Tesoro once gagged upon one Buglasan event, a bevy of tastelessness in sinamay surrounding her. “Oh my God,” I remember her saying.
Truth to tell, the drawing power lies not in the clothes, but in the public display of the nubile bodies of models strutting on makeshift runways. If there’s one Dumagueteño tick that encapsulates our reason to attend these shows, it is the tendency to gawk and then to pretend to get bored. Photographer John Stevenson once asked me, “What’s the use of these shows? Nobody buys these clothes.” And if somebody wants to, where do they go? There are no fashion-forward ateliers in Dumaguete, only high-priced modistas more suited to making prom dresses and festival costumes made of walis-tingting. “Why are we here?” John asked again. I finally told him, “Because we’re bored out of our heads.”
Dumaguete, it might as well be said, is a fashion black hole. It’s understandable. We are a small town barely out of barriotic mindset, forever hedging our bets against the modernity that threatens to embrace us. Our minimalist uniform for every living day, given the nearness of things and the humidity of our existence, is a shirt, a pair of jeans or cargo shorts, and sandals or flipflops. Wearing Armani under the hot Dumaguete sun is out of the question, and your Manolo Blahniks will certainly splinter away in the lubak-lubak of our sidewalks and streets. “Baduy is in the blood,” someone once said to me, which is a bit harsh, but there you go.
It surprised me then that last May 23’s fashion show—at the eternally grimy and sad El Camino Blanco—was fashion at its most refined, at least as far as Dumaguete was concerned. Titled Burst, it was singularly a show that burst more than one thing, my low expectations most of all. Because it actually started right on the dot. Because the designs actually sizzled and impressed. Because it finally placed much-needed emphasis on the clothes. Because it was verily a show. Clocking in more than an hour, what we got were segments after segments of design, some of course more compelling than the others, but all of them brilliant in their own right. This was a far cry from the usual 15 minutes of catwalk we used to get in past shows, where the emphases were on skin, more skin, and scandalously low cleavage—never mind construction and silhouette.
Designers Athena Tandoc, Marie Nueva, Karl Sutterlin, Nikki Teves, Josip Tumapa, and Carla Bondoc
Nikki Teves, an up-and-coming 21-year-old local designer now studying fashion marketing at the prestigious LaSalle College International, conceptualized the show, and it was only right that she opened the event with a burst of summer wear—in this case, pastel-colored swimwear for the women, with an almost dainty emphasis on fabric flow, Grecian-inspiration, and low cut. The result was a classy version of the old one-piece bikini, at once provocative and conservative—an unexpected combination. The men, on the other hand, donned various stylings of kimono tops in floral print over very short, and very skimpy, white shorts.
Local designer Josip Tumapa followed suit with strapless ballgowns with an abundance of flounce, all of which were reminiscent of rich and silken tapestry, and with differing silhouettes a little too scattered for comfort, diffusing the thread that should connect the collection: one was a high-waisted burst of a purple flower, and another one was an exercise in velvet drapery pulled into place by a well-centered brooch. Not exactly original, and the color and fabric choices are not exactly adventurous—but this is the best collection for women I have seen Josip put out so far. It is with the men that the collection falters a little bit. It forced them to don silken corsets, fedoras, and Ugg boots together with an assortment of pants in different fabrics (ripped jeans, among them) and prints. The result is a mishmash that never really came together.
Manila Clothing’s Carla Bondoc came out with only a short segment—something altogether devoted to skinny jeans with her brand of difference: all of them come in various colors, from yellow to purple, from turquoise to hot pink, from green to red to royal blue, from mint to fuschia, from teal to white, gray, and black, from orange to mustard. Matter-of-fact ready-to-wear-denim, for the teenager on the go. Half-Norwegian designer Marie Nueva, on the other hand, basically did variations of the cocktail dresses that ranged from A-line to ballgown, from mermaid to tiered, but the defining thread seemed to be the soft hues of her prints—flowers for the most part—offset by shimmery see-through that lent the clothes a certain unexpected elegance.
The audaciously colorful clothes of 17-year-old half-German designer, model, and club deejay Karl Sutterlin were a little bit harder to describe, except that they reveled in a sexiness and a certain looseness of concept and wearability—sporty but not exactly, simple but not entirely. “My clothes are a bit weird, I’m not sure if they’re wearable on the street,” he once admitted to Philippine Daily Inquirer’s Bianca Consunji. In that interview, he cited the American flag as inspiration for his clothes: “I chose blue, white and red as the main colors of my collection,” he said. “I wanted to feature very strong colors for the summer.”
Athena Colico-Tandoc’s collection, which ended the show, was easily the most polished of the lot. Each ensemble she created seemed tailored to a degree of perfection, all of them a good explanation why construction is key to the making of beautiful clothes. The well-thought out details—the placement of the patterns, the beadwork, the cut—are astonishingly controlled, and while the influences are varied (one sees a little bit of Chanel, of Halston, of De la Renta, even of Versace), they don’t come apart as a collection. What tied the collection together were the bold uses of over-the-top prints (golden birds or gigantic blooms set in black), gold and silver trimmings, and a Pan-Asian sensibility that reminded one of Japanese and Chinese tapestries, but distilled to a sense of high fashion.
It was a well-attended event, a highlight of Dumaguete’s new Kabulakan Festival, and the attendance of some of Negros’s elite attested to that. It wasn’t entirely a perfect show: the venue was not exactly conducive to such an event, and there were a few unfortunate hecklers in the audience (ang baduy naman…), and the young hosts, save for the minimal efforts of Manila saxophonist Michael Young, were abysmally bad. There was absolutely no eye contact nor rapport with the audience, there was a little confusion in the traffic of segments, nobody could actually hear what they were trying to say, and one was almost tempted to shout, “Speak up, and speak to the microphone!” Then again, as one of the organizers told me right after, one can’t have everything.
Still, it was a great show, and for once, you could actually say Dumaguete was no fashion black hole.
Model Mark Xander Fabillar with Karl Sutterlin and Josip Tumapa
Film is a visual spectacle. Festivals are even more so. And when you're talking about Cannes, especially for the red carpet in the Croisette, baby, you gotta dress up to the nines. So, of course, spectacle like the one below -- with Chinese actress Gong Li, Indian actress Aishwarya Rai and French model Laetitia Casta epitomizing the glamor and the international-ness of the whole thing -- is de rigeur.
And then I saw, from the festival website, these red carpet shots of the whole Serbis crew in Cannes, in full view of French paparazzi. [Click to enlarge.] And my initial reaction was: What the--? Minus the jackets, you could almost ask yourself, Are they going to Quiapo, or something?
[Photos: AFP]
In fairness, Gina Pareño looks regal. But what's with Jaclyn Jose's hideous suit, and even more hideous metallic blue eyeshadow? And Mercedes Cabral, wearing what looks suspiciously like sneakers, looks about ready to hit Divisoria. Sure, the film's another showcase of Third-World misery, but must we dress Third-World, too? Where were our local designers when we really needed them?Which was a pity, I thought. I once heard that when the young Hilda Koronel went to Cannes many years ago, she created a sensation.
And so, I breathed a sigh of relief when I searched further and found there were other red carpet photos that showed them in Patis Tesoro. At least.
[Photos: Christian Hartmann for Reuters]
Where are the grand dames of Pareño and Jose though? The only online photo I could get of them was this. In other news: Amiens International Film Festival director Jean Pierre Garcia says both Pareño and Jose are strong contenders for the Best Actress prize, says Inquirer article. Well, let's see, and here's hoping. (My bet's on Gina.) Read further down the article, and voila, it's the "standing room" quote I knew would appear somewhere in local coverage! If you don't know what I'm talking about, read this.
Related post:Serbis gets slaughtered in reviews, here.
An update: Commenter Toti Porte says: "You can not blame the cast of Serbis if they are wearing a third world fashions, they came straight from Amsterdam and transfered to Nice Airport, and went to the photocall without changing their clothes. Even Mercedes Cabral has no time to chage his sneaker, since their luggage still un-open since they will be late for the presscon. Mercedes Cabral, Bing Lao, Ferdie Lapus and Jacklyn Jose almost made it photo finishes." Point well taken, and I apologize. But I still can't get over Jaclyn Jose's metallic blue eyeshadow.
Springfield's Marge, Homer, Lisa, Bart, Patty, and Selma cavort in Paris with Linda Evangelista and a few designers, courtesy of artist Julius Preite. All from Harper's Bazaar.
This photo was taken by my best friend Kokak in Sydney, which she promptly emailed to me to blog about. She wrote, "[This is] Australia's answer to the Paris jail issue. Displayed in a very popular store for young people. Which one do you want to wear?"
I'd wear this: "Who cares about Paris?" But really, that girl deserves the bite of real life via jail time. She's been overly pampered all her life, and getting off scot-free from various shenanigans because of Dad's money.
Last October, we were shooting scenes from around Oriental Negros with Patricia Evangelista and television scriptwriter Flexy Sarte for Living Asia Channel. During a brief stopover in sleepy Bacong town (the setting for Alfred Yuson's Palanca-winning novel The Great Philippine Jungle Energy Cafe), we went inside the oldest church in the province, whose old bamboo organ --the source of its pride -- now lies in unfortunate disrepair. Something caught my eye on our way out. It was this poster tacked on the heavy entrance doors:
It was a fashion advisory for church. Kini ang insakto is Cebuano which means "This is the correct dress." Dili angay iso-ot sa pagsimba means "This is expressedly forbidden for church."
Cute, I said. How Urbana and Felisa! Not that I advocate trashy fashion for church wear. But to wear that kind of parish-prescribed dress? Must devout Catholic ladies look like lolas to gain entry to heaven?
I stole the poster. (Yes, I did. From a church.) Why not? It made me laugh.
7:47 PM |
The Devil Still Wears Prada
I love the film version of The Devil Wears Prada, but for me, it pales in comparison to the stark fashion reality that is Unzipped, Douglas Keeve's film about fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi as he tries to put out his 1994 winter collection. This is simply one of my favorite documentaries. But I have always been fascinated by movies that take into account the creative process of artists and the brilliant madness that go with it -- and this one, showcasing the beautiful pandemonium that is the fashion world, provides one of the most insightful look. (Plus, it doesn't hurt that we become somewhat privy to an aspect of the lives of supermodels and stars... See Linda Evangelista snarl! Hear Naomi Campbell sing!) The film, and I'm lifting this wholesale from the Amazon description, "begins with Mizrahi reading mixed reviews of his 1993 show of new outfits and then follows him for the next year as [he] seeks inspiration for his next public showcase. Sardonic, witty, and immensely likable, Mizrahi sets about finding his new muse, which turns out to be a lively but unlikely marriage of '1950s cheesecake meets Eskimo fake fur.' Keeve shows us most stages of the production process and the related disasters and heightened anxieties that attend. He also gives us a big finish with a fly-on-the-wall look at the backstage mania that fuels those celebrity-packed rituals, where leggy supermodels walk dispassionately down long runways. Some of the best, bitchiest stuff is in the way the busy models deal with the presence of Keeve's cameras: Naomi Campbell comes across as a crab while Cindy Crawford could easily be anybody's swell, flirty pal. But we already knew that, didn't we? Shot mostly in black and white, with color stock reserved, quite wisely, for the climactic big show." I had a VHS copy of this film way back in college, but you know how time does not exactly bode well for old-fashioned magnetic tape: it became fodder for mildew. I have never found a DVD copy of this anywhere, but guess what. I found the entire film in YouTube, where all good cinematic things seem to happen. This is the first clip of eight parts:
Designers Athena Tandoc, Marie Nueva, Karl Sutterlin, Nikki Teves,
