Monday, July 23, 2007

Thoughts on Fashion



I was born with a critical disdain for fashion. That is why i have the tiniest inkling how on planet earth i got in this field. But, as i grew working my ass out there, i did some backtracking, and here are things i've learned.

First, it is only now that i personally understood that everything (like anything under the sun) can be learned so long as one is willing to. See the image up there? I kinda consider it (along with a ton more books) my fashion bible now - since it talks about the lives and design philosophies of 150 fashion designers in the world. I remember how my brother used to tell that there are two ways to become a fashion buff: it's either you'd literally live that kind of lifestyle (i.e. you'd be one of those well-traveled, culturally-exposed kind who gets to enjoy every element the fashion scene has to offer), or you may just be that someone who would simply read a lot. And my book up there clearly signifies the latter, doesn't it? It does. And i find nothing wrong about that, i mean, with too much reading. In fact, one would need not choose from these two. Aiming for substance, they should actually work hand in hand.

Secondly, i have learned to delineate being a fashionista from a fashion designer. While i was on my way to facing this field i am currently in, i had a tough time trying to understand how i can be in this when i have never been fond of dressing up? My answer is this: one can be as avid as a monkey when it comes to following fashion trends, but designing is a whole different story. Design, in any particular way (in this case, say, fashion), involves extensive research, a wide cultural awareness, and discipline (in its purest sense). Decades ago, the fashion scene here in my country has often been associated with pure materialism (since people from the high soceity are the only ones who can appreciate), but thank goodness that now, people are beginning to delve into a deeper and more substantial essence of fashion. Thanks to some key fashion critics, for they are now continuously eyeing for young, upcoming and promising fashion designers who exemplify a sincere mixture of culture and design.

Oh my, i rashly began writing my thoughts down about my field but then i'm beginning to realize there are a million thoughts that deserve to be squeezed in. However, i'd try to make this as concise as possible.

The last thing i have learned is that one may not be adept at dressing herself up, but dressing others up is also, a different story. In relation to this, i have always believed in the story of the 2 barbers. In this story, one is asked to choose where he should go for a haircut: to the barber who always wore a clean haircut and whose shop has always had a neatly swept floor, or to the barber whose hair almost covers his entire face (as if no one could tell if he's human or not) and whose shop has always been full of hair dust on the floor? I'd rather go to the second one. He's much more promising since he had always been preoccupied with servicing his guests. Guests who have trusted his workmanship since.

Ehemm, same goes with any field. Now that I have learned to love my job, i must admit that striving to grow in this field has been preoccupying me that's why if you could please forgive me for not dressing up the way i need to. Ironic for me, that i choose not to waste my time primping myself; Just as how i have never been fond of shopping when my job says it's the world that i literally wallow in. I choose, rather, to offer my people the most sincere designs that i can always come up with and allow my people to grow with me as i work with them in this field.

One thing to close this, i'd like to encourage my colleagues not to give up in discovering themselves. I, for one, can say that i hold a keen eye for aesthetics and this is one key that has led me to, or should i say, that has kept me moving. And because i've decided upon myself to stick it out there no matter what, i have discovered a genius in me that can still be honed in time which i can't wait to witness happen inch by inch. Moreover, for my fellows out there, i'd like to share that i've learned not to look at my inabilities as a hindrance for keeping up. I have always challenged myself to make use of what gifts i have to meet and converge with the standards the world dictates. Hence, my niche.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

I Gained!

People are beginning to see me around again, after quite a while. One thing i hear: "you've gained weight." Life is ironic (and unfair). Now that i've been making the biggest effort in my life to try to lose weight and get the heroin-chic look, they tell me i gained????

Effort not enough, i believe. I'll find a way. Oh, maybe it's because i overslept for the past couple of days. Now i remember. All right, I'll work on the balancing part soon. I promise.

For the rest of the world, wait till i take-off. I'll sweep you all, one at a time. My Father has so much to reveal to me. In no time, He will (so long as I obey). So now i prepare the field.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Design, Design, Design

I've just seen Brian Gothong Tan on TV today. Just so you know, i haven't been watching tv for ages but then i thought i'd better start doing something new nowadays. Okay, Brian Gothong Tan. I don't precisely know what he was doing on tv aside from having designed something for Sony (I'm not so good at remembering things of grandeur, forgive me). All i know now is that he was born in the Philippines, grew up in Singapore, and that he's gay. He's just a year older than i am but he's already "considered one of the most-exciting and prolific multimedia artists in Singapore," web says. Want to know how he got me interested in finding this out? Here's what happened.

Simple. As i was watching him being interviewed by a skinny, fine, Oriental-looking lady, i noticed not only his Singaporean-English accent, but also the impressive background where the interview was held. It looked to me as if he's in a design store that he owns. I wanted to believe i was right. Then, while the camera was showing its viewers around (of course while the interviewer and the interviewee were talikng), i spotted two tiny, almost microscopic and unrecognizable things the human eye could see - a hat and a purse. On one angle, i saw the silk-screened hat sitting on a headless mannequin, while on another, i miraculously spotted a bag-strap and a portion of a well-designed graphic purse that seemed so familiar to me. To tell exactly, both were shown for a mere split second. So how could i possibly notice things and revel in a split second spectacle? It is for the main reason that both stuffs can also be found in our shop here in the Philippines. Yes, in the shop under the company that i work for. In short, we made them. Hah! I know, how on earth did those get there? There must be something about this guy. And yeah, found out he was born here.

I have always dreamed of having my own design store, and what i saw during Tan's interview kinda gave my eyes a distinct gleam again :) This guy's (gay's) done a lot already (his works were really impressive, i give that to him), and the two miniscule spectacles that got me excited are nothing compared to his bunch of achievements. But i am always grateful that everytime i get to hear these stories, not only do i get pissed off (in a very positive sense, meaning, that this kind keeps my feet moving), but also that i get to dream more. Must admit i'd have to visit his place someday to find out how our stuff got in there. I'd better learn from this. From this day on, i will always believe that dreaming and working towards that dream REALLY offers no boundaries.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Nonsense

I just saw Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix last night. I've read the book. But up to now i still don't believe Sirius Black is completely dead. In the 6th book (forgot the title), neither am i convinced that Dumbledore too is dead. This just could not happen. Rowling cannot get rid of Harry's mentors just like that. Haha! What do i know about plots, anyway? But hey, I live in a free world, i can say what i want. What do you know, i might be making sense.

I've always been fond of writing. I remember i used to write to my friends a lot when i was in high school. But, sadly, i didn't give much to train myself to write well. I hated reading.

That is why i can never be grateful enough when i read Stephen King's book - On Writing: Memoirs of the Craft (or something to that effect. Forgot the exact title. I always forget, forgive me; i've the weirdest memory.) In the book King said, if you want to become a writer, you need to read a lot and write a lot. God saved my life, He got me to start reading back in College. And now, believing every bit of what King said, i try to write with sense. But it's sooooooooooooooo hard to make sense. In fact, due to a dire need, i recently wrote someone a letter recounting thngs in my life. i sent it after an hour completing it. The next morning, i reread what i sent. Golly, i sucked. I wanted so much to edit what i wrote, but it wasn't necessary. Damage has been done (hihi).

I don't know what i am actually driving at. See, I AM NOT MAKING SENSE. I just wanted to write so bad. It's because i can't get myself to read. Hey, i've a good question (a life-and-death kind of thing): Which would you prefer to become, a thriving chef or a starving artist? If you choose to become a thriving chef, you'd take risks such as cutting your middle finger with the sharpest kitchen knife or maybe like burning half of your face while retrieving something from the wood-fired oven. While if you choose to become the starving artist, you'd take risks such as losing your mind, period. So which one?

Hmmmmm.... (i'm humming a hymn in my head -like how Humtpy Dumpty used to do while strolling down the wonderland. Wait, i'm kinda not sure if Humpty Dumpty really used to do this. I just remember his riddle and his wall. I'm making this all up, forgive me. I thought it might sound interesting).

I lost my nail cutter. I had to sneak in my parents' bedroom to get my mom's because my nails kinda grown long and yellowish. I didn't know my dad was already in a deep sleep when i snuck in. A few minutes after i left the room, he called me through my cellphone. He asked where i was. I said i just went out of their room. He didn't mind, we still talked over the cellphone. He asked me how i was. Weird. Does this make sense?

I'm just probably so pumped up tonight. I had three strong doses of caffeine, that's why. Had 2 cups of cappuccino and a cup of green tea. My tummy's kinda going berserk right now, but i'm ignoring it.

Finally, i can't think of anything more to write down. Maybe i should start reading. Haven't touched my thick red book for quite a while. I'm not even halfway through with it. i'll try finishing some pages tonight. Wish me luck.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Happy or Not, Here I Come

Happy Feet spoke to me very clearly today. I've seen it once before but it didn't speak to me as much as how it did this evening. Well, not until someone had to preach about it (as if it was carefully preapared for me) so i i'd wake myself up from sleep. You know, i tend to forget things. I always do, in fact. And i didn't quite expect a penguin would give me a nudge this time (though, sadly, i can't speak penguin yet), i mean a penguin story (the usually not so popular one) would be used to pull my hair, get my attention for a second, and whisper to me a sharp reminder i badly need at this very moment.

Today i am being reminded of things in the aspect of pursuing my call and in the aspect of waiting.

Hmmmm.... can't think of anything else to write at this moment. I feel lazy. The weather's just one to blame, the rest would be myself. I've been trying to take care of myself as much as i could but i don't think my body wants to respond the way i wanted it to. I think I know why. but i choose not to tell. I don't want to be dragged back into that abyss again.

If i write some more, i bet i'd end up whining about many things again. I need to stop here for now. I choose to smile, nonetheless.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Queen Frida


I have to write this down. Queen of pain, eh? Nothing compared to a Frida Kahlo.

"Frida Kahlo had something more than beauty, talent and passion, something more marketable in the pop culture universe: she suffered," says Jessica Zafra.

Sends me goosebumps. Two days ago i was just babbling about how painful things have gone in my life, labelling myself as the "queen of pain," thinking i'm the least fortunate kid on earth. Minutes after publishing my post, i graced the news and found an article by Zafra entitled: "Frida Kahlo and The Order of Pain." OMG, really. Someone up there really is sending me a message.

This July the whole world is commemorating Kahlo's 100th year anniversary, and here in the Philippines, we have come up with different events (such as poetry performances, art exhibitons, film showing, etc.) to serve as tribute to her. Amidst all the pieces, one thing stood out - the account of her sufferings. Frida Kahlo, at age 6, suffered from polio, and at age 18, survived a car crash that caused her polio-withered leg 11 fractures. With her foot crushed and left shoulder dislocated, a metal handrail skewered her through her back and out through her vagina. Later on she had her leg amputated. Survive she did but her pain in life did not end there. Her pains with her womanizer husband Diego Rivera, who had an affair with her sister, quite punctuated her sorrowful journey.

"She trancended her pain with her art," says one. True. And this, overriding her bushy eyebrows on her ubiqitous face staring at us, makes her life and works important. Yet, she did not deny her pain.

And here i am, whining about the cutest problem in the world! I'd better tell myself: "Don't wait till Frida frowns and raises her funky eyebrows on you before you realize life has never been fair. Get used to it."

But then again, i go back to Him who has suffered the worst in this world - my Savior. He suffered all the pain, that I may live. He's the only one who is beyond compare.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Queen of Pain


I am being brought back to one of my unforgettable memories back in college. I remember my most-hated-turned-most-wanted art professor, Mr. Bob Feleo. A sage to be revered.

I remember how i first met him, it was during my first class under him on my third year. Oh, how i hated him. I hated his style, hated how he smoked while holding his class, hated him period. And here's what, he hated me back. How could i forget? The only art professor who gave me a 2.0 in my class card.

Until, this most interesting plate of mine came. It was when we were assigned to work on a plate entitled "lyricism." As an artist, sure i had tons of ideas! It was fun. We started out with collages, searching for themes, and finally, we get to work on a final painting incorporating the entire concept. The theme that i came up with was somewhat like a series of hot air balloons lining up the sky forming the shape of a bridge in a landscape. Can you even visualize (i think i'd need Charles Dickens to teach me how to describe this with much clarity)? So, in my collage you'd see a bridge and hot air balloons in a romantic landscape. I showed it to Sir Bob. Man, he got kinda interested, began suggesting things, and wow! We ended up with a Golden Gate Bridge on my landscape, hot air balloons, and a light bulb at the end of these balloons lining up. Here's my problem: when i was about to execute the collage on my canvas, he told me he wanted an exact perspective of the Golden Gate Bridge on the painting.

Did he just say PERSPECTIVE? Oh my friend, to be honest with you, it's the next worst thing in my system, next to geometry! Would you believe? I used to love math back in high school but geometry and the whole lot is a totally different story. I was doomed.

I had no idea how to figure it out. With all hopes gone, my last option was to consult a professional architect. Yet, Sir Bob still didn't like what the architect suggested (which was to do it on freehand). Finally, he taught me how he wanted it done. And there I did the perspective upon manual calculations (please don't dare ask me now how i did it).

It took me months to finish my plate (that which should only be done in 3 weeks). Wonder how i went through it? I literally cried over doing the perspective the whole time. Excruciatingly unbelievable.

Here's my beautiful end of story: I clearly remember how my professor discussed my plate in class: "One thing that made this plate exemplary was that it was painstakingly done." After that my whole outlook about art has changed. Moreover, my outlook about him has totally changed. Because of him, factors such as symbollism, philosophy, and the fundamentals in my field has kept me intact since. I thank him for bringing out the best in me, and i'm grateful i decided to endure the pain.

But pain doesn't stop there. Forgive me for my lengthy memoir, but the reason why i remembered this is because i am currently in pain. But now is quite different. When you are being confronted by your leader or mentor, accused of so many things, spoken to with very painful words that keep ringing in your head like some creepy dream you've had, it's a different story. I wonder how i can eventually manage this pain. I have no idea where i should go from here, but one thing's in my heart: i know there's a Big Hand working all throughout my life that's why i won't give up seeking for answers to things that need to be fixed in my life. I won't give up dying, I won't give up following where the Big Hand leads me to, even though he leads me through the narrowest road. I'm praying He would give me people who would truly care for me, those who will love me even when sometimes i fail to take responsibility. People of grace. People who would care to think about how a sheep would feel. All my life i have learned to love the toughest people i've met, but all i'm asking now is a pinch of compassion and understanding. Regardless, i know that in no time, i will be thankful for all of this.