raunchy monday mornings

i have spent the later half of the first twenty two years in my life searching. i never expected i wouldn't find those--all my life i could easily get anything i want--but i was wrong. this isn't any mid-life crisis, i presumed, nor one of my greatest contemplations ever. it's just that, at some point in any body's life, a bitter moment shall reside upon realizing that the somewhere a certain clock ticks and no one can stop it, not even the great minds of the world.



this monday morning i woke up early probably because of the ten-hour sleep i had the previous day--or was it because i was hyped. like most of office junkies i despise mondays not only because it dissolves entirely two days of rest but because it's the beginning of another five days of toil.

like any othger september mornings, i woke up to a slightly cold breeze after the rain poured last night. apparently because of the work i have this is the first time i woke up to such sight--moist rooftops, chilly breeze, and bleak sunlight.

birthday blows

fine. so ive been away for a while--so what? i've been busy getting hold of something which i myself still do not in any way know.

in fourteen days im turning a year older. i am worried and excited. i love birthdays because unlike new year's eve sans the calories and whatnot they make you think about the person you've been all these years. and the result? a contemplation of a ruckus of events which eventually created the mould from which a hefty celebration would come out of.

fine. so this year i got new gadgets; bought new stuff through shopping plus rich parents; earned new relationships; dated more men in a few months than what ive had before (a whopping six men in just four weeks); loved my family more than ever; got a nice paying job even if it takes a year off my plans of becoming the country's next big thing (lol); got connected with old friends; gained weight; the long list goes on and on.

i wonder how the world turned the day i was born, and how the stars moved in such a way that i will be this person i am today?

finally the birthday. im turning a year older, wiser, happier and better.

my folks--yes, parents and bro and sis--will be flying in from camsur to celebrate a triple birthday bash for me, dad, and my utol Roy. im hyped can't wait to see those little roughies again. and im gonna sing and strive to get a hundred at one of those ktv restos--my repertoire's on its way to get finalized.

"happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to moi!"

Anna Wintour on CBS

Morley Safer: What bores you?

Anna Wintour: Mediocrity.

alright, i was up really late last night watching and taking down notes while Morley Safer interviews Vogue US editrix Anna Wintour for their docu/Probe-like presentation 60 Minutes<<click here to watch the amazing CBS presentation on YouTube

(image from gawker.com)

Still, managing to gulp down the last few ounces of a homemade cappucino i was able to jot down some of the key statements between the two: the most powerful woman in fashion (with the polished British accent) and Morley Safer (that's all).

Morley: Why the sunglasses?

Anna: They're seriously useful--I can sit in a show and if I'm bored out of my mind nobody would notice, if I'm enjoying it and nobody notices. I think at this point they've become an armour.

She's just amazing, and as Morley cites what others refer to Anna, "she's ambitious, driven, needy, a perfectionist, bitch" and she smiles as each of the adjectives (and nouns) go out of Morley's sagging piehole. I love that woman. I believe that more women should be like her, or men should be more like her, always pushing what's around her to the best of their capacities.

What i disliked though is the oh-so-fashion-outsider tone that Morley had throughout the interview. Check out some of his statements as he introduces some of his interviewees such as legendary Karl Lagerfeld and John Galliano.

Morley on Chanel creative director Karl Lagerfeld: "...who this season favors the dracula look."

(image from guestofaguest.com)

Morley's just UN,BELIEVABLE! how could he say that Karl favors the dracula look this season when in fact the high, starched collar have been there for ages? He could, because Morley have been bleeding his eyes on the middle east tremors and economic cherva instead of reading Vogue Men or even Women's wear daily! UN, BELIEVABLE!

And what does he say about John Galliano?

Morley on Dior creative director John Galliano: "...who some might think needs a better tailor."

(image from gawker.com)

Strike two! What nonsense. The one who needs a bitter tailor sourgraping over cheap menswear materials is Morley! I can't believe he's in the position to say that when exquisite tailoring rules over Dior RTW and Haute Couture for ages now.

At the end of the presentation Morley presents in such a tearjerking way the rumors that it might be the end of Vogue editorship for Anna after more than two decades of impeccable, glorious work with Conde Nast Publishing. I just don't see her leaving the magazine and retiring at such economic crisis. And who would replace her? the overweight Andre Leon Talley? the Viviene Westwood-esque Grace Coddington? who??

Morley: Do you see, out there... some young upstart quietly taking the measures of this office?

Anna: Probably several.

Morley: When the time c0mes, will you go quietly?

Anna: Certainly, very quiet.

when that time comes, the fashion world won't be certainly very quiet.

so cold

brrrr.

amazing shorts

i know summer's demise is just around the corner and the thrid world country's in for the rainy seasons come June, but knowing also that man shorts made a huge come-back in Milan and Paris spring/summer 2009 runway shows, i couldn't help but curse the upcoming weather with a hint of a smile and the F word.

fine. if it's gonna pour then let it be. but i'll still wear shorts--those that fall just above the kneecap. now that ill be workin my ass off and deal with office politics for the bitter couple of years in my life, the only consolation i could have--or at least the next on the list after shopping--would be men's hotpants.

here's a trial, er, i mean what i wore at a night out with a bitch friend (until the next morning, hence the sunnies):

whatever.

i'll just say Miranda Priestly's bloody prickly words on the phone with Andy Sachs:

"What do you mean there's a hurricane? It's just drizzlin or something."

haha. so there goes.

some things never change

a shoe fetishist. that's what i am. that's what i have been and what ill always be for the rest of my life. Andy Warhol once had a work featuring rows of used shoes in which he showcased the inevitable existence of a unique story of the shoes and their wearer. what a genius. i always thought only the Grimm brothers knew storytelling, but naah. Shoes do too. The stories they tell are stories of travel, of deceit, of countless sex with hot men.

the last one isn't that much of a truth.

well. i said such ghastly things because IT'S here! yaaaaay! the shoes I had a local shoemaker retouched for the sole purpose of gratifying one of my innermost needs:a penchant for people being envious of me. haha

kidding. i mean i had these shoes made for the purpose of getting worth out of the heaps of shoes i own and don't wear at all.

but first, the inspiration from Opening Ceremony

(photo from google images, www.thisnext.com)

and now my version of the cutout oxfords--
(drum roll)


now i have another piece of aduhrable footwear in my collection.


What an effin little Imelda.

reflective sunglasses

this just in from my favorite fag, bryanboy.com: reflective sunnies as seen on British model Agyness Deyn (who happens to be one of the models i worship)

(photo from bryanboy.com)

his question is--and my of-of-the-moment question as well--will this be a trend on the rise? i mean, are we gonna screw the shutters, wayfarers, oversized and aviator sunnies for this one? i would, only if i don't know the fact that these reflective sunnies look a lot like the bangketa eyewears worth less than fifty bucks (i got one for thirty five bucks)...

hmmm. looks like i need to do some thinking. but naah. these reflective sunnies remind me of Harley Davidson-driving oldies who are trapped in the 90s but still has their asses running in the 21st century. haha. or the multi-colored reflective ones i see our former houseboy don while trimming the bushes. lol.

but it looks great on her though.
now im worried.

watch and learn, PETA!

great. so the fur stole my Tita sent me as a graduation gift finally came in. it's quilted chinchilla, bear, fox, mink, sable, possum (and another rodent i do not in any way am familiar of) fur and--take this, PETA--it's real!

People's Ethical Treatment for them Animals. eh.

accessorized with huge boxy sunnies (my take on the Margiela L'incognito sunglasses), here's a little shameless self indulgence. lol



paparazzi moment? naah.


was kidding, PETA. yer know i love 'em animals. it's just that my Tita knows me more than I do.
get it? lols.

the not-so-light traveler

fine. it's been six hours since i started packin my stuff into the huge suitcases.

so there. some not-so-light travelling.

i love to travel, but only THE travel, not the pre-travel perks it has--like booking a flight, arranging schedules, and the effin packing up. I mean, it's so hard to pack the so-called essentials when you think that the whole closet is the most essential thing going on.

i did what the folks at Discovery Travel and Living have been sayin--travel lightly, go for the essentials, roll your clothes to maximize space, squeeze your undies inside your shoes to keep its shape (whoa. this one's questionable), yada yada yada. but still. i end up having these suitcases. and this is after six gruellin hours of yes and nos, stop and gos.

i did leave some of my stuff behind, and the closet's now half-empty. really. promise. guess im gonna look back at some point. to wearnot only what's left of the closet, but to see againthe people who have been with me when i wore them one day in the past.

i know im not a light traveler. i bring memories with me

lol. tears in here. nostalgia, hopes, whatever.

mother-sucker

yes it's true. i love moms. i dig them like i dig shoe-shoppin down rodeo drive. to the fab mums out there happy mom's day an' keep rockin' those titties for them kiddies. lol

i have a lot of friends who are moms and it seems, at this point, that they may be heralded as wonderwomen.

hehe bahala na si wonderwoman.

mom n i are goin shoppin today. ill ask her to wear the belted tunic i bought her from a PrP May 1 sale. axed a bitch who wanted the same top. lol.

not your ordinary GARAGE

guess what i came across while shirt shopping today! my new cult read--well, next to PREVIEW that is--a men's fashion magazine called GARAGE! it has Japanese-Brazilian import model Hideo Muraoka who is, the new face of Folded und Hung on its Apr-May cover.

(cover photo from garagethemag.com)

i love the fact that the magazine's overall flavor and mood isn't too gay, nor too straight. it doesnt even smell bi culture or anything, and it doesn't sell too much sex, unlike other men's glossies. it caters to everything related to lifestyle, fashion, and the arts. i adore their spreads and the value of the content. it sits somewhere between the haute and the street, luxury and minimalism.

(yay Dirk Bikkembergs and Fendi!)

the layout reminds me of Preview mags layouts back in the late 90s., but is still a great, great read. im planning to get me a subscription, but sadly they wont be accepting subscriptions until their June-July issue hits the stands (this is their fourth issue so far and yes, they've been having great reviews from men all over, and count me in, even if im not that straight of a man. lol)

(i love the Bang Pineda cutout oxfords on this photo. yay im gettin me one)

i finally found a men's fash glossy where i could buy stuffs below a couple of thousand bucks. lol. Preview stuffs are so mahal. pero dreamy, and good for the soul.

yay for men's fashion.

like a beauty queen

(yes, this is what i feel like right now. a sourgraping beauty queen. thought of sharing with you freakos a poem i wrote, it's included in my capsule, er, shameless-self-promotion collection titled "Rak en Rol na Walang Asukal".)

The world according to a beauty queen

I reach for sequined stars

on skyscraper heels.

My knees are well-built

for tiptoeing hours

under the bright lights.

My hips are an investment

Nature made for me

so that straps would cling

gently and firmly

as I glide on droning drums.

My abdomen is an offspring

of water and crackers

as it churns painfully

under tons of foundation.

My breasts are sore, but joyful

of the fact that a beaded bra

represents them as it

shines into the night.

My neck is adorned

with a chandelier necklace

of broken glass

and aching of its weight.

My eyes are gray, wide open with lashes

reaching for the dark skies

as I punctuate each stride,

each sway,

with a full blast of smile.

The world is a stage

and I am an actress,

a love interest,

a beauty queen.

"what hurricane? it's just, drizzling, or something!"

if rainy days make a close friend of mine go blue for the simple reason that she can't go all summery with her plush tan, these days make me function more than sasha pivovarova on those prada heels. i mean, c'mon--if there had been any day worse than these seemingly endless rainy days, it would be--at least according to me--the hot days of summer.

im so happy. teary eyed of the fact that the rainy days are here again (and i can't find my fab umbrella--need to fire my yaya. kidding) to make me think of the fun things i did back when virginity was a taboo and i use threads to make kites fly, not sew. hay. childhood. i wished i was young again, but with the same old soul i have right now. my former yaya used to make me a nice taza of champorado while rain poured outside and id certainly feel better as i watch the poor kids play in the, eew, tubig baha. believe me. i envied them at some point.

now that im all grown up, almost six feet tall and more terrified of my gained weight over the years (believe me also, i got insecurities), i still think of my childhood as the most precious era in my life--not swarovski-precious, but more likely essential, er, fun--and that i was never the same scruffy kid i was twelve years ago.

i miss being a kid. and now that i'm turnin twenty three this year, ive grown to miss it more than i miss eating champorado while the rain incessantly pours.

hail a CAB! a Certified Ayala Bitch!

that's right. hail me. im one of those bitches now who would hail a cab and be friendly to the cab driver rather than ride a congested airconditioned jeepney.
i know, it's been golden since i last entered a blog in this effin survivin blog. just came in from manila to sell myself like crazy--was successful though, im comin back on the 22nd to earn, well, a little more than the normal five-digit sum some people make. lol. now i can splurge on spas all i want, and buy the effin Louis Vuitton keychain, at least, which ive been droolin over since my days at my mother's womb.
lol.
i ain't got pics to post here yet.
promise ill post something useful next time--or at least somethin you're interested into--like politics or the motherf**kin environment

naah!

kidding. i will. as soon as i take my shit together.

they listen to my heart

i enjoy conversations. not that i know people think im good at it, but just the fact that great things are churned out pf conversations--even the simplest ones.
for the past few days ive been having episodes where i fluctuate like a windows task manager processes tab (whatever that is) in between hand gestures, laugh and cry, look up and down and into the eyes of the person im talking to, fidget like crazy between puffs of cigarette.


come to think of it--aren't conversationalists lucky? you know, they can air out some of the baggage they carry well--and anticipate the best responses there could be from a certain person.
i miss some of my friends, not because they're pretty, and that hangin out with them is the next best thing to cappucinos during sunsets, but because we engage in conversations far better than Christian Loboutin shoes (ill take that back--far better than any thing in this world.)



and that they listen--when nobody seemed to care.


(photos by Buboy Borbe)

scarfey like wee-oh-wee

yay! it's here. an old friend from Davao sent me this beeuhtifuhl Maranao-slash-T'boli-slash-Ivatan-watev-inspired scarf-slash-tablerunner. i loved how the solid, black, mustard, and yellow colors were inked with the woven pattern at the center (i folded the thing lengthwise).

fine. if it's around my neck it's an effin scarfie, alright? and if it's in my Mom's narra coffee table then it's an effin table runner. lol.

reminds me though of the Preview fashion editorial shoot back in June 2007 featurin Anna Sideco with the robotique Celine Lopez on the cover.
i know what you're thinkin. im like B1 and you're B2, lol. bdw the eyewear's a find in a Bangkal flea market. : )

screw the spectator shoes--this one's a keeper

finally. the effin usb ca-bhul is workin and i finally got to shoot this outlandish rendition of the late 60s spectator shoes. bought it a vintage store in the city not really for a song--well, after a couple of sleepless nights.

it's like if a classic street staple chuck taylor like this one--
--hooked up with a 50s Ascot-ish spectator shoes such as these--


this would be their lovechild (lol):






fun. im diggin the eyelet detail and the not-so-humungge strap over the shoe lace. and the zipper. god.

the time has come

finally. a lookbook.nu. account! yay. thanks to Lilu Kz i finally got my invite! yay!
it's an amazing, amazing, uhmazing site for the pragmatically fashionable entities around the world.

unfortunately (but not) it's an invite-only site, and each were given only a single invitation (yay for us, nay for the posers. kidding) i sent my invitation to the one, the only Mardj Dacudao who happens to be the one, the only kawaii princess of the Bicolandia. hugs marj!

im tearjerky because i don't have other lookbook-worthy shots as of now. but ill have in the next few days! here's the verry first image i posted on the site--seems like goin back in time, eh.



yay.
here's my url
http://lookbook.nu/paolo1986

uhmazing indeed.

A COLLECTIVE FASHION CONSCIOUSNESS.

indeed. uhmazing.

where's Imelda?

i know it's a bit post-popularity but I haven't, for the love of Ferragamos, seen Ramona Diaz' award winning documentary "Imelda".



im stuck in this third world cesspit of a province and even the fabulous city of Legazpi and the not-s0-fab city of Naga cant vomit even a copy of it.

like an spf45 lotion, i desperately need one . if anyone has a copy of it or at least an idea on where to get it, do tell me. ill give you, kiss,kiss,hugs,hugs.

we need more powerful women like her. screw dwarfie.

The Generational: Younger Than Jesus (an art exhibit of 50 artists bellow 33 years old)

it IS holy week, i know. im beginning to get fed up by all this ruckus about eating fish and crustaceans and sea mammals instead of a juicy steak over at Chef Doy's.
whatever.

from men.style.com:

Generations X and Y, the New Museum's latest show proposes its own addition: Generation J. Younger Than Jesus, the first edition of the museum's new Generational triennial, features the work of 50 emerging artists from around the globe, all under the age of 33.

AIDS-3D, OMG Obelisk, 2007 MDF, electroluminescent wire, steel, hot glue, acrylic paint and fire

though agnostic, i still find the exhibit way above interesting because of the fact that it aportions contemporary art at its core,

"The show, says curator Laura Hoptman, "examines the entire notion of generations and how they may or may not relate to contemporary art." And commerce, apparently."

The Generational: Younger Than Jesus runs through June 14 at the New Museum, 235 Bowery, NYC, (212) 219-1222, www.newmuseum.org MICHAEL SLENSKE

and contemporary art, is, of course, one of the best few things having an artsy perspective could bring.

i guess it's about time we look at faith differently.

omg.

i know why he isn't looking

Untitled 2


I know why Freddie isn’t looking
at the pretty woman
across him
inside the jeepney.
He’s got other things in mind--
like a nice shirt he saw in a shop,
a puff of cigarette at the next stop
or meeting up with Carlos
for a plate of pasta.
I know why Freddie isn’t looking at her.
He’s smiling in between
browsing through an inbox of fifteen.
I know why Freddie isn’t looking.
He’s seeing someone.

The jeepney halts in front of a pasta restaurant.

alaala ng shopaholic--or not.

alright. maybe i've been a bit too superficial and shopaholic these past few days, or, at least all my life (that i cannot compromise). i recently bought a pair of vintage Pierre Hardy-esque shoes out of nagging my mom to buy me one. but hey, they're investments, right? like the thousands of pesos i spend on other goods burstin out of my closets.

Fine. maybe i was shoppin a bit too hard. but what can i do? there are hot items in the retailing industry right now--especially in the fashion industry. so the littlest i could do is pump up their sales like crazy.

nothing really beats the smell of new stuff (sounds like Rebecca Bloomwood, eh) but still, investment analysts (my new bffs) say that amidst the global financial crisis, purchasing stuff would be a nice way of investing. whatever.

it seems, at this point. that no matter what the price is, the thrill of having something new reminds us that we are never contented. everybody wants to have something new. something beyond the usual. something that would drive one mad.

something new. a new life.

augh. i do want one--a new "life".

i need another yosi.



that's all.

a dream photo shoot location

i don't know about you effin bitches but this had been one of my dream shoot location for a photo shoot.

it's a manor built in 1927 along Fuentebella highway in the 'quaint' (no, really) town of Ocampo, a forty-minute drive south of Naga.



my gay uncle-in-law Salvador, an engineer and my mom's bff, visited the place recently and told me that the Manalangs bought it from the Garchitorenas (?) for a possible Bed and Breakfast Inn project.. im excited.

whatever. i hope the old world glamour is still there once the renovations are done.

it's better when they leave it that way for the shoots--think futuristic and robotic suits for men a la Alexander Mc Queen Homme s/s 2009


i was floored by this number. made me cum like a crazy whore at sunset drive.

Buboy Borbe, Tan, and other photographer-slash-stylists-slash-camwhores, if you're reading this, you know where to find me and my Fendi jeans--sipping caffeine and nicotine at you-know-where!

that's all.

it's been a year

tsk. tsk. tsk. it's been a year since the April 2008 competition.

i miss the stressful minutes. the adrenalin rush.
as if all roads lead to that runway that day.
i'm in hiatus mode right now. but i'll be back no fuss.

that's all.

wtf?

beloved fashionistas. watch this vid. it's a campaign against irresponsible drinking. loved it to death. fun fun fun!



careful. careful.

that's all.

they tried to make me go to rehab i said yes,yes,yes

i needed this.


yes, went to rehab- not really the types hollywood celebs or thirdworld cesspit celebs go into, but a sort of get away. For three days i went away from all the ruckus of a idle life at home, free from the stress of doing nothing, and attempt at having a fun time at the city of Legazpi.
yeah, you could put it that way, i headed to the city with only a few clothes, a few hundred bucks, and hopeful that things may look better as soon as i get back. my bitch friend, a fresh employee of an outsourcing company based in the cityi, offerred me her place.
nice apartment though, not bad for a newbie in the employment world. lol.

well, it was definitely a 'rehab'--i had activities with her (didn't fuck her, though) like taught her how to put dramatic make up on for work, hehe, went downtown to go hunting for cheap food thrills like the spicy pinangat (i love!) and salted eggs, drank coffee, had yosi, drank more coffee, had more yosi (the perks) talked about interesting things, and oh, i finished reading Costa Rican writer Fabian Dobles' Los Años, Pequeñas Dias (years like brief days):

where one of the entries go:
"i'm bored by people so overwhelmed they can't even say plainly 'today' but 'on the day of today', nor 'last night' but 'yesterday night'. They haven't 'just come' because they 'came recently', and they don't 'think so' since they think what Tom, Dick, and Harry think and don't have opinion themselves. They 'would be of the opinion'. And they don't 'believe', they 'would believe', nor do they 'say', because where they 'had to say' they 'would hardly say'.

augh, the frills of a modern world.



anyway, one of the best things about my bitch's place is the view of Lignon hill on her terrace.















and one of the best things, was, i got laid during the last night. not by one, but two gay men. lol.


i knew i needed a good screw. what a rehab.











that 's all.

fieeeerce!

is it me or this pic spells CHANEL fierce?!



got this pic from bryanboy.com, the faggot i'd willingly kill for an acquisition of his costume jewelries.

CHANEL fierce! LAGERFELD fierce! screw America's Next Top never-heard-of-never-seen-ever Model!

what a dis-GRACE!

missing-Gracia de la Guison. she was last seen walking downtown butt-naked screaming the capital "A". she's my silly bitch. once found, please return her to proper authorities, this time it's me. she's a conniving bitch like i am, so please return her to me.
that's all. lol

hmmm.

i'll miss ateneo.
i sure will.


that's all.