February 24, 2014
I keep coming back to Manila, as the song goes, and not just because it’s where I’m from. Every time I’m there, I see my notoriously unprogressive hometown flickering with inspiration, new talent, and wonderful things to do. It is catching up with the rest of the world in art, music, and in this Internet-only age, well, all the cool kids dress just as cute as their counterparts around the world. I often get asked what it’s like back there, and it is indeed Crazytown–a place best explored with a trusted local, food is cheap and good, gems can be found all over the cacophonously slow-moving city, and it’s a stone’s throw away from Hong Kong, should the shopping disappoint. But the people–impossibly talented, pleasant, and naturally beautiful, we Filipinos, well, we are just fucking awesome.
Orange is not the new black.
the Greenhills cellphone bazaar
Reformation and black-tie vintage Yohji Yamamoto
society sea-princess Tessa Prieto-Valdes
a backwards men’s pajama concoction on the inimitable Jo Ann Bitagcol
Rajo, Ruffa, and other masked menaces
“Signs of the Times,” a piece made of cut-out newsprint, at architect Sarah Canlas’ abode
“One Day I’ll Be Everything,” by Mich Dulce
sheer shirt of my own design, Damir Doma pants, Birkenstocks, Givenchy clutch
fiesta at Black Market
Kimono from EPCOT Center, AG Jeans, Nike Air Max sneakers
To a Queens-themed party we threw, I came as the Queens Botanical Garden and she came as Fran Fine. Little did we know, they wore the same print.
Anna and Diego
talented new designer Carl Jan Cruz in the most beautiful light pique top–to be worn with silver shorts in the summer
stylist Patrick Galang can dance
patron of the props