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.