|5/14/2011; PFW day 5
||[May. 31st, 2011 | 03:27 am]
we are the cartoon heroes
we are the ones who're gonna last forever
Day 5 got even better; Ziggy was showing, which meant all of Film x Batibot x Moonleaf came out to support him. And the bouncers finally began to recognize me as the photographer with the look of distress on his face, so they'd let me stay a little longer.
Like 5 minutes. Or 5 shots, whichever came first.
Before day 5, two shots from backstage at Oxygen which I had misplaced.
Ah foreign names and details.
The shows started, and Nissy's hustling got us good seats at the photographer pit, which I've lovingly re-christened as the mosh pit.
First, Jian Lasala with his clean dresses and sneaky, intricate surprises.
Miss Ria Bolivar.
Next, Mike Lavarez with his cool, deconstructed, effortless effort.
Judd shot his Fashion Week campaign video! It's lovely.
MIKE LAVAREZ HOLIDAY 2011 VIDEO CAMPAIGN from Judd Bimpo on Vimeo.
Next, Richie Bondoc and his abundance of geometric snakeskin bodycon prints.
Next, palette-cleansing Ricky Abad and his self indulgence.
Finally, Mr. Ziggy Savella and his updated safari meets that's what you get for running with scissors collection.
A triumphant break outside with Ziggy's supporters. Hi Eldzs!
Christine, Kris, and Jiro! I have this feeling that Ziggy made them their jackets.
Obviously these are just wild allegations.
Me, Tope and his new hair, Gian and his extremely cool pants, Nissy and her yellow film camera covered with Lisa Frank stickers, Judd and his air of arrival,
Kim A and her makeup, Joma and his Tricia Gosingtian smile, Sam Lee and her pocket square, and Aleli and the wind in her hair.
Also on Sam, her dad's old shades.
Now including LJ and his Marlboro Man persona, Nante and his little hip sassiness, Rik of Proudrace, and Earl the model in his tallness and thinness.
Aleli was so tall that day.
And with that, they all left to live their lives in MOA, while Nissy and I despaired.
Back upstairs, Ziggy and his cool backpack, blocking Rey Ilagan and his cameraphobia.
The next shows were...enthusiastic.
Little Mermaid after a tsunami.
But I say it with respect.
I went backstage for Jerome Ang's wildly anticipated- vocabulary hiccup, I hate the term "wildly anticipated"- show. And then I figured out why it was so.
Shooting runway became a need.
But then I was called out to check on Nissy's, Zet's, and my photos for the afterparty.
One last look at Jerome Ang's apparently epic show of Rihanna's hair meets Planet of the Apes meets Lord Voldemort meets fashion.
I went deep into Pasay (fine, two blocks off of Buendia) with Miss Kathy, fixed some of our shots, and we went back just in time to catch the last clothes from Sassa Jimenez.
I could not fight through the crowd but the dresses fought back.
The consolation was backstage at Regatta, also known as prep central, also known as my primary sartorial advocacy in life.
Andrea who looks like a remix of Francisco Lachowski and Jon Kortajarena, Bruno who is so friendly, and Pauline whose face and hair have triumphantly withstood the trauma of five days of Fashion Week. Models.
Two incredibly friendly models whose names I incredibly forgot. Sorry! They were so nice.
Sidney Yap! Hello! I know all my Chinese people.
I say that in jest.
Ivy League beach trip attire? Words cannot.
I went to peek at the runway. It was a dock. Bruno went for a peek too. I told him to find his light and he did.
I got kicked out again. Or politely, but threateningly told to leave. Next show!
Don Protasio and his Star Wars meets Stone Age meets sexy collection.
The skeleton accessories are OS Accessories, an accessory line by my friend AJ Omandac and his friends Kat and Paul.
Next were designs by Russell Villafuerte, Veejay Floresca, and Xernan Orticio.
Veejay's collection looked cut out of this monochromatic Tron landscape, and Xernan's was still in love with Judas, baby.
I actually don't know them personally; I just figured you knew their surnames already.
It was Shark Week in Ariel Lagat's.
And Fruity Frozen Yogurt Week for Enrico Carado.
Finally, Happy Andrada and her happy entrada. There were more designers, but I couldn't deal with it and walked out to comfort myself by thinking of t-shirts and sneakers.
Ah fashion, you are like food: vital but sometimes hard to swallow.
The next day was even better. Five days into Fashion Week, things began to become amazing.
Apparent keywords for day 5: triumph, better. Not bad.