Marry the Queen

Dada and I got married at Mary the Queen back in 2008:

photo via weddingsinthephilippines.com

For some reason, Berry just loves the idea of weddings and always asks me to tell her our wedding story. 

While we were in the bathroom, she asked me about our wedding again.

"Well, Dada and I got married at Mary the Queen.", I started.

"I already know that, Mom." she replied.

Before I could say anything, she continued, "Oh Mom, you know I told teacher that you got married at Mary the Queen."

"That's right. And what did teacher say?", I asked.

"I told teacher that the church is called Mary the Queen because that's where people Marry and the bride is the Queen!", Berry said, looking up at me with a wide grin on her face.

Shocked but amused at the same time, I blurted out, "What! And what did she say?"

"She said 'No, it means Mama Mary is the Queen'", she replied, that big smile still plastered on her face.

"Yes, of course, teacher is right!", I exclaimed, not knowing at that moment whether to laugh or launch an impromptu catechism lesson. 

Right there and then, I vowed to be more zealous in supplementing Berry's CLE lessons, hahaha. 

Teacher, if you are reading this, know that I have nothing to do with this "Marry the Queen" idea.

TOINKS.

A Shoe Story

Our shoe rack downstairs had been overrun with my shoes on current rotation that I decided to bring everything up to our shoe closet. 

Nana brought up one big West Elm paper bag filled with flats, sandals, sneakers and heels. It seemed like a manageable number, that I budgeted an hour to sort them out.

But when I laid everything out on the floor, even I got overwhelmed at the number of pairs I've accumulated. I took a picture for posterity, ahihihi.

I also realized I always end up buying shoes in black, nude, white or silver

While wiping the right pair of my patent ballet flats, preparing to put it right back in it's pink tissue lined box, I felt a sense of happiness (and maybe a little bit of pride) looking at the pile of shoes in front of me, like how other women would ogle their own jewelry collection, I guess.

But when I heard Dada's voice as he was walking in towards the closet, I panicked.

"Sh*t, when he sees this, he's going to freak out", I thought to myself.

But it was too late. He was already standing by the doorway, and I was crouched on the floor, still wiping away.

You know how some people use the term, "deer caught in the headlights?" That was me.

Photo via caffeinecrew

"I know, ang dami! I'm cleaning up na!" I told Dada before he could mutter a word.

But all he could say was, "Grabe."

He tiptoed around my pile as he grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt from his side of the closet, and left without saying anything else.

"Oh wow, that was easy", I thought.

Dada again appeared on the doorway, carrying Tepper. They stopped right there, looking down on me - still crouched on the floor, packing shoes in their boxes.

"Look at Mommy." Dada said to Tepper. They both watched me silently, and all that I could blurt out was...

"Don't judge me. Don't judge me. Don't judge meeee!"

Then Tepper smiled.

Hay these boys.

Thankfully, not a word was spoken ever again about my shoe situation.

Until Berry arrived from school and walked in on me.

"What a mess, Mom!" she said.

"That's why I'm cleaning up.", I replied. And to make her leave and not bug me I said, "Come help me clean!" And she turned away, hahaha.

Fast forward to dinner time and Dada was asking me why I wasn't getting the kikiam I bought from Mi Casa/Angel's Kitchen.

"I'm just waiting for all of you to get. Kuha ako when you're all done getting." I said.

"Wow, martyr!" he said.

Then added, "Hindi bagay!", chuckling happily at his own hirit.

I explained, "Ganyan talaga mommies no, last na ako, para you can eat all the kikiam you want."

Dada turned silent for a moment, seemingly mulling at my statement.

Then he said, "May martyr ba na ganyan kadaming sapatos?"

Dada looked at Berry, and they both laughed.

THE END.

Ma'am and Madam

My friend P was distraught. She just had to share this in our private FB group:

Hi mothers, just wanted to share. 

At the garden center, I was talking to this guy I judged to be about the same age as me. But throughout our conversation, he kept saying 'po' and 'opo' which made me realize he probably thinks of me as SIGNIFICANTLY OLDER! 

Redeeming moment at the supermarket today, when a man who looked to be in his late 40s called me 'Hija.' 

Who here has been thinking a lot about aging lately? Because I have! Anybody know how to stop the clock?! 

"Maybe he is just being polite?" some of us surmised.

"You can go to a college campus and still fit in.", K chimed in.

"The first time I met my brother-in-law's ex-GF, she said "po" and I was so pissed! And ending was, she turned out to be older than me!", shared J, with obvious hugot.

"I get surprised when somebody calls me 'Madam'!", P added as an afterthought.

"Come to think of it, I get called Madam a lot! Nakakainis Ang Madam! Parang matrona!", I vented out

"Feeling ko inaasar ako pag Madam, hahaha", K said. 

"I get called Madam a lot too, naiinis lang kayo because a true donya would be offended!", jabbed P, who must have recalled this from Tita K's insightful Facebook status post on true donyahood.

"When I think Madam I think big helmet hair na alajada!", I explained. Visions of Imelda Marcos and her Blue Ladies, plus Meldy Cojuangco and her Forbes Park amigas come to mind.

But nobody followed my train of thought, and the topic shifted to gardening and the possible death of plants.

Which left me still pondering on P's anecdote and my personal experiences as of late. 

When I look in the mirror, I see that no amount of Aesop Parsley Seed Anti-Oxidant Eye Serum will take care of the wrinkles that appear when I smile or squint my eyes, the way that Botox can. And I refuse to do Botox. (Kids, don't make it a habit to rub your eyes, it loosens the skin around your eyes, and unfortunately for me, I cannot turn back time)

I have toyed with the idea of having my lids done though, because my eyelids droop in a way that resembles a hoodie. 

When I look at the skin on my tummy that has been stretched thrice, thanks to my three beautiful children, I remember the times when it was taut and trim, and woe is me that I never even bothered to have photos taken to prove it.

Worse, I go to a photo shoot and the models call me Tita. Tita!

In a year and a half, I will be 40 years old. I remember when my Mom and her friends were 40. They seemed so old. And a lot more mature than I am now. But this observation deserves a post of its own.

I remember her friends who would say how offended they were when they were called, "Tita" and I would think to myself then, "Well, you are a Tita! What else would you be called?". But because I was taught to keep my opinions to myself, I would just smile politely, out of respect for my elders.

Uhm, I guess that's me and my friends now. The sort of folks who would get curious stares from the kids hanging out in the cool clubs, should we even dare go to Palace Pool Club or wherever it is millennials go to now. And that the pretty girls of our time now look like the moms that they are, and the sleazy guys of our generation are now the official Dirty Old Men. Hahaha.

I guess we will just have to accept aging gracefully, lest we be the ones who live out our glory days way past our prime.

In fact, there's this old couple I often see at church who look like they are dressed for a Grease themed party. Lola with teased curly hair, tight jeans and heeled slides, and Lolo with greasy pomaded hair and his short sleeved shirt folded just like John Travolta's.

They actually look cute and can get away with it, and I often think of how they must have had a great time in the 70s and 80s that they identify with the look of the era close to 40 years later.

Ahhh there goes 40 again. That said, I will hold my bottles and jars of SK-II close to my chest, and keep Coco Chanel's words, in my heart.

  

Then again, Coco Chanel calls her perfume Mademoiselle instead of Madame.

So f*ck it. While I think I am doing a decent job with my anti-aging routines, I may need more intervention down the road.

Because here's one scary fact: In a study of 100 Japanese women aged between 22 and 55, scientists from beauty brand SK-II discovered that while 'skin power' - the ability to protect itself from UV exposure and pollution, and to renew and regenerate itself - steadily declined, it went into free fall at 35.

Support group na ito! Fellow Ma'ams and Madams, tips please?

What's Your Signature of Love?

Whenever my mom would put us to sleep, she would sing this two-line lullaby, over and over until we’d fall asleep:

Sleep my darling baby, mommy’s not so far away. 

Sleep my darling baby, I am always here to stay. 

I am pretty sure she just made it up. I have never heard it anywhere else. It was her special song for us, and hearing her sing it was always so calming. Listening to it in my head transports me back to our childhood room, lights dimmed, my mom cradling our youngest. We had her to ourselves, all of us winding down to sleep, no chore or homework to concern us, and it was always a great way to end our day. 

Now I am in my mom’s shoes. I sing her song for us, to my kids. It is a part of my repertoire of lullabies and I get a bit of a thrill when Berry says, “Again! Sing again please, Mom”. 

This is just one of the many ways we bond, simple things that don’t really take up too much time or effort, but are reassuring and comforting in so many ways. 

Johnson’s Baby calls it a Signature of Love, the unique ritual between mom and baby. Quick, daily activities that define special bonding moments, like a secret message in a wink or a jubilant high five exchanged to celebrate small victories that feel like triumphs of the human spirit. 

As you will see in this video, it is also in that soft, gentle way that I remember seeing my mom use Johnson’s baby shampoo No More Tears to wash a newborn sibling’s hair, and the tender way she’d put baby powder on our armpits and back before getting dressed. It also happens each time I’d do a heart shaped massage on Berry and Xavi’s chests as I put lotion on their arms and legs after a bath.

Which made me think, apart from lullabies at night and heart shaped massages, what are the other bonding moments in our family? Inspired by the Johnson’s TVC, I made this video to share with you the Dychiao Signature of Love:

*please set the gear icon to HD for a clearer view ;)

I had a lot of fun doing this, and you will too. Just going through old photographs will make you eager to create more bonding experiences the kids can always look back to with fondness when they’re all grown up. How much more a video?

That said, Moms, go and make a short 30-second video of your family’s Signature of Love, all the better with a Johnson’s Baby product! It is a fun exercise and a great way to document both everyday and extra-special memories. It could also bring you fame!

Upload your video to the Johnson’s Baby Signature of Love Facebook app, here: https://www.facebook.com/JohnsonsBabyPhilippines/app_269939559814035 and get a chance to see yourselves in a Johnson's Baby's TV commercial and on billboards too!

Now wouldn’t that be a great story to pass on to your kids and their grandkids?

Johnson's Baby, one of the most trusted names in baby care, understands and shares our need to provide only the best care for our babies. Backed by over 100 years of scientific research and close partnerships with expert doctors, nurses and mothers from all over the world, Johnson's Baby has committed itself to meeting the very highest standards of mildness and safety. We should know. After all, aren’t most of us Johnson’s babies too? 

Mommy Issues & Virtues

Two Mother's Days ago, I wrote a post on the lessons that my mom taught me. Re-reading it made me appreciate my mom even more, because now that I am a mom to two kids, I realize how difficult it was for her to raise 5 kids, while her husband, our dad, was away most of the time on field assignment.

Let me tell you about my Mom. She sounds frivolous and out of touch with reality at times, but she taught me so many valuable life lessons, that I will share some with you today aka Pamana ni Nanay:

Marrying for love.  One huge thing that I thank my parents for is that they let us grow secure in the fact that they love each other. They have been together for close to 50 years now and they are proof to me that people who love each other will always make it work.

My parents, in their 30s. Taken at their friends' home in Vidalia, Georgia

For one, in this day and age when a long-distance relationship sounds like the scariest thing on earth, my parents carried on a 7 year long-distance relationship (pre-Skype/Face Time/Viber/Whatsapp, etc yan ha) before they tied the knot. I don't know how they managed, but they did. While studying in Manila, she would write long love-letters to my Dad who was then a PMA cadet in Baguio. My dad would reply, writing "newspapers" = letters written in Manila paper with Pentel pen. Telegrams (kids, ever heard of that?) were exchanged. It was romantic stuff. When I was ten, I would pore at their love letters, feeling a mixture of kilig and cringe factor levels. My Mom went on to work in the US for a few years after graduation, before getting married. At the time my Dad was already in Mindanao, living in the jungles, heading a small platoon of soldiers. He would regale us with stories of being in battle, bullets whizzing past his head, he and his soldiers bravely dodging enemy fire, saying it was like a scene from a movie...

Unflinching faith and prayers. If I were in my Mom's shoes, the thought that my fiance was risking life and limb each day would have scared me shitless. But my Mom said she put my Dad in God's hands and prayed and prayed and prayed for his safety every single day. This went on from the time my Dad was a scruffy, ill-fed lieutenant up until my Dad reached the peak of his career as CSAFP. She supported my Dad's dream to be a four-star general, and took the backseat, gamely giving up her career to be an army wife, raising five kids while my Dad was busy serving the country.

Taking on responsibility wholeheartedly. She's the 2nd of four live siblings. Her eldest sister passed away when my Mom was 26, and she suddenly found herself thrust in the role of eldest child. Something that she probably wasn't prepared for, but she stepped up to the plate and took on the responsibility, valiantly. When my grandparents grew old and got sick, she was the one doing the hospital rounds, while managing a household. Even at that, she still found time to drive us to and from school, bringing us piping hot sinigang for lunch, to the envy of my classmates who by then had cold, wrinkly hotdogs in their lunchbox.

Quality over quantity. When I was 7, my Mom, my sister Trina, and I visited my Lola Imas in San Francisco. I remember my Mom only ever shopped twice for herself. One, to buy a strand of Mikimoto pearls and two, to buy a Nikon SLR camera. Quality > Quantity personified. Which reminds me of this lady who was struggling to stuff her bag on the overhead compartment on our flight back to Manila. My Mom tried to help her but she wasn't nice to my Mom because she was being careful daw about the oranges and apples in her carry-on luggage. Baka she had corned beef packed in her maleta too, along with clothes from K- Mart. Uy joke lang ha. Just taking a dig at that nasty woman. Yes, 30 years later and I still can't forget how that lady's mom forgot to teach her good manners and right conduct. Sya na nga tinutulungan, sya pa yung galit. Plus, nobody talks to my Mom like that, ok? Sorry Mom I wasn't able to defend you and give that lady a piece of my mind. I was only 7 then. But I already knew that was no way to treat a stranger, especially one who was only offering to help.

Which leads me to this - we all are a reflection of the people who raised us. And I think, the best compliment a child can ever give a parent is when a child shows his/her appreciation not just in the grandest of gestures but in the sincerest, most heartfelt words ever. Because a grateful child is a constant recipient of God's graces, and will always be a blessing not only to his/her parents but to others as well.

With that, I leave you with this touching video from Ceelin of five children who went beyond their way to show their moms how grateful they are for all the sacrifices and lessons that made them who they are today. Here's what they did to thank them on Mother's Day.

I can only wish my kids will be as proud as me, and will see me not just as a Mom, but a friend whom they can trust and confide in. I hope they will enjoy my company even when they grow into their teens and adult years, and I pray that with our help, they become the person they dream of being, savoring the life they dream of living. 

We All Have Issues And It's Not as Bad as We Think

Good gracious, I am not a crybaby, but watching this video I saw via The Fatherland had me tearing up.

Everyone has issues, even the prettiest, skinniest girls I know. Why do we do that to ourselves? That unhealthy obsession with perfection? Why do we let what our parents, siblings or cousins say about us or label us with (si "kulot", "payatot", "tabachoy", "babalu" etc.) affect the way we view ourselves?

Growing up, I was called "tingting" and "maliit". By the time I reached high school, boys started paying attention to me and thought I was cute and crushable. So that cured my insecurity, ahahahaha! Just kidding no! Personality still rules! Never equate self-worth with how attractive you are to others.

Seriously girls, remember this - You are more beautiful than you think! ;)

Filipina Sense of Fashion

A few days ago, an anonymous reader left a comment saying that my style was plain jane, and that I get over hyped for my fashion sense. That my blog title didn't suit me at all. Which made me think. How does one get taken seriously as a fashion blogger in the Philippines. Do I have to dress like this?

I have never met these girls, and they do look sweet and adorable in the Asian fashion kind of way. However, these looks work if you are in your teens or twenties. All that color, layering, cheap (read: synthetic) fabrics, lots of make-up, tons of piled on accessories, sky high heels. When you are young, the sky's the limit.

But I do think most Filipinas need to learn more about real fashion and personal style. It's just become too formulaic. They all think, the crazier the look is, the more it is "fasyon" - a term I hate, along with the skin-crawling "fashionista" which is so 1995 if you ask me. They wear everything all together, and if "carry" then voila, fashionista.

Oh! And don't Filipinas just love Longchamp? I don't get it. Maybe because it's the closest thing to a an acceptable "designer" bag if you don't have the budget for one. Little did I know when I first wrote about Longchamps in 2007, that it would become so ubiquitous in Manila! My friends and I especially don't get how some women are so conscious about designer bags, when they do have one. The way they hold it by the crook of their arm, and treat it so precious as if it were their own child. It has to be effortless you know, it has to be you carying the bag and not the bag carrying you. I can't remember who said it, but she said something like "True luxury is beating up an expensive handbag". Which is true in a sense, because you can afford to replace it anyway. And don't get me started with women who wear crazy ass heels but look like they are wobbling when walking. If you're gonna do it, do it like Daphne Guinness!

I can go on and on, but I'd rather we look at "fashion icons" outside the Philippines and tell me if there's something they all know, that "fashionable" Filipinas don't.

US: Here's The Row's Ashley Olsen, who has made a name for herself in industry making luxe basics that women want to wear, never mind the insane price tag. Then there's socialite Olivia Palermo, who does artful layering, but with a restraint that is so impeccably chic.

France: French Vogue editor Emmanuelle Alt wears the most basic pieces but everything is perfectly slouchy, perfectly tailored, and perfectly fitting. Even the way she semi-untucks a shirt is an art in itself. Then there's the scruffy chic Lou Doillon who can wear anything, but loves well-worn jeans and her mother Jane Birkin's beat-up Chuck Taylors (I think I read that in Vogue)

UK: Alexa Chung. She styles herself well, is a muse to many, and has probably made a small fortune designing for collaborations with Mulberry & Madewell. Kate Moss, who said, "clothes go in and out of fashion, but that's not style. Style has to be classic." knows what she's talking about. She has an appreciation for fit, fabric and tailoring, and when put together, that's effortless style.

Take a close look at these set of icons and then go to our local versions. There is a whale of a difference in terms of style and aesthetics but that is what resonates and gains a following in our country.  It could be cultural, I don't know. I haven't really dissected it.

Can you help me make sense of this?

Somebody Stop Me

I've got shoes on my mind 24/7. Yes, I even dream of shoes, and it happens all the time. More often than not, in my dreams, I am buying shoes at Barneys. 

Weeks later, I am still plotting on how I can get my hands on Miu Miu's Jewel Scrunch Flat from S/S 2010 (Yoohoo Universe! I'm a size 36!).

When I have more than a couple of minutes to spare, I line up all my shoes in my head, like I'm styling them for a photo. When I count money, I count them in shoes ($500? That's not even enough for a Louboutin! Php10,000 a month, hmmm, that's 3 months at least before I can get something decent from Barneys, unless I wait for the sale...). And instead of a piggy bank, I have a shoe fund.

It's kinda sick isn't it?

  
(Photo from jeffreycampbellshoes.com)

MFO Turns Two! We've Come A Long Way Baby!

Happy Birthday T(w)o Us! Yes, MFO turns two today and guess what, yours truly will be going to New York Fashion Week this coming September! Yes, as in actually working the circuit to go to shows and even backstage!!! Well, not to all the shows unfortunately, only the ones that I can get into for now, and can fit in my housewife schedule, hahaha! We can't leave the house dirty and Dear Hubby with nothing to eat right?

Check out the schedule below for a preview of what's to come! (click to enlarge)

Who knows, maybe next season you'll be joining me! Life is full of surprises and writing this blog never fails to surprise and amaze me! Two years ago, I was just sitting on a couch in front of the TV, writing out my thoughts to myself. Yes my audience of one. Fast forward to now and I'm actually taking short courses at FIT, meeting New York fashion industry insiders (from buyers to showroom owners, fashion label executives, sourcing consultants and soon, fashion event organizers!) and enthusiasts (fashion students, professionals looking to a career shift in fashion, etc), visiting showrooms and all that so that I may have something interesting to share with you all! Take my hand and let's look back to my previous posts just to see how far we've come (although the trip really, has just begun)!

AUGUST 17, 2006

Hello! Nice to meet you dahling!

Before anything, let me introduce myself: The Closet Fashionista

I first came across the F word over a decade ago as I was poring through the pages of British Vogue while waiting for my flight out of London Heathrow. It was the summer I turned 18, living on allowance but pretentiously into labels I could not afford, that I lived the life vicariously by buying fashion magazines. (To my parents' middle class sensibilities, it was a puzzle why I was into clothes & the styling life when I was neither socialite nor star. They could not understand my deep interest in fashion and I could offer no explanation.)

At that very instant, while staring at the italicized fonts, I understood why I was different. I belonged to a "cursed" breed, an army of connoisseurs who live for fashion; afflicted with an acute sense when it comes to spotting trends and appreciating details, that the idea of mainstream horrifies them.

Knowing I was a fashionista and coming out of my closet to admit that I was one posed a problem. Growing up in a no-nonsense, frugal home, exhibiting my passion for fashion would make me an obvious target for ridicule. However, I feel I have an obligation to explain the essence of a fashionista, skinny jeans, breezy frocks, oversize bags, dirty linen and all.

The Fashion Foibles

Fashion is an addiction I struggled with, forcing me into suspicious if not bothering behavior: tearing receipts so my mom wouldn't know how much I spent for another pair of shoes, foregoing savings for cult jeans, risking a traffic violation while checking out a lola crossing Kamuning road because I was inspired by her Marc Jacobs meets Prada look, buying a watch just because my style icon Madonna wore one herself, and spending six months of accumulated summers in London during my teen years scouring the streets (read: Knightsbridge, Oxford Street, Bond Street), bumming in parks, going to museums, and watching people every day; rather than taking summer courses on finance at the University of London, as my dad had suggested, seriously believing that both activities were equally worthwhile.

Coming to Terms

Writing about this confession came at an opportune time. At best, this is my coming out letter, a published tell all of my fashion faux pas, an admission of a secret life. At the least, I have given my two cents worth on the fashionista phenomenon. This is not just about having the money to buy designer clothes, wearing what's hot or being in the fashion industry per se. As authors Dela Cruz and Robinovitz of The Fashionista Files puts it, it is acknowledging that fashion is a "form of art, self-expression, and a representation of more emotional roots". It is a serious field of study that Holly Brubach, a self-confessed Dedicated Follower of Fashion, likens fashion to architecture.

Simply put, a fashionista is not simply interested in clothes and trendy must-haves; she knows herself and wears clothes to express her history and individuality. Her passion extends to art, culture, and social issues and disproves the impression that her kind has cashmere for brains. A fashionista derives satisfaction in looking and feeling good, but knows that what matters most of all is who she is beyond the stylish clothes.

AUGUST 17, 2007

Birthday Blog! MFO Turns One Today!

Happy Birthday to us! Yup! One year ago today, I put up this blog to keep me busy back home while hubby was in Cambridge, MA taking up further studies in law. It also served as an outlet for me to document my observations and obsessions about stuff I liked, in the hopes that talking about it would satiate my urge to buy it! Which in a way worked! Hehehe! Its just a happy coincidence that in the course of keeping me occupied, it also entertained and informed my fabulous fashionista readers as well! Thanks to you guys, my fixation with fashion doesn't seem so frivolous anymore because I feel so useful when you ask me for advice and request for posts on stuff you'd like me to feature! It also makes me so happy when you tell me you enjoy reading my posts!

Looking back, I never expected that MFO would evolve into what it is now. What started as rambling musings turned into an advice column/recognizable shopping blog. What's best, in one year, I gained a lot of online friends and quite a following across the world! Not bad, not bad at all! I hope you continue to stay with me as I start a new chapter and a new year for this blog! Because I can guarantee you that there are more exciting things to come! I just know!

As I look out the window now to a fantastic view of the Hudson River and the Manhattan skyline from our apartment, I advise you to gear up for a fun ride because I'm taking you with me on another adventure as we take on the streets of Manhattan --Fifth and Seventh Avenues especially!

That is, when I'm not running errands or cleaning house! Hahaha!

Well, I'm still running errands and cleaning house, but true enough, my days have become very exciting indeed! At least now I get to do the things I would just read and write about before! And for me, that is quite a feat! I never would have thought back when I started, when I was just surfing the net and clicking on runway photos that I would actually get to step foot inside the Bryant Park tents during New York Fashion Week in just two years! I never expected that I would be invited into New York City showrooms and trade shows to see the clothes that will come out in stores a year in advance, and it still amazes me to observe buyers and boutique owners picking out clothes and accessories and seeing which taste jives with mine, hahaha! Hmmm, I may have a future in buying for posh stores or better, buying for my own specialty store! Hey, you never know, anything is infinitely possible these days!

I get this feeling, Manila Fashion Observer may pretty soon be a New York Fashion Insider! Hey, it's free to dream! Hehehe!

Thanks everyone for the comments and the emails all these years! Thanks thanks thanks! Mwah Mwah Mwah! For sticking with me kids, buckle your seat belts, I'm taking you all with me!!! We'll celebrate dear readers!!! We've got places to go to and people to see, it's gonna be one heck of a joy ride!!!

I Am Who I Am and Why I Sleep in Style

My mom believes she is a very practical person. As much as she thinks my obsession with fashion is a waste of time, money and effort, I can't help but think she is somehow instrumental in shaping my world views. I am who I am, because directly or indirectly, she conditioned me to behave and act this way.

Take these instances for example:

When we were growing up, my mom would dress us up in tights with skirts and dresses/overalls or pants every single day if she can help it. Even if we had no place to go. Why? Because she says that we have to protect our knees and legs from getting scratched! Of course when I was old enough to think for myself, I preferred running around in shorts and slippers like the rest of the kids, and go barefoot at home just to freak her out. But wearing pants, and tights to protect my legs? Actually, it makes perfect sense to me now!

I was seven when I first stepped into a K-Mart. I was amazed at all the stuff in that place. Everything was imported! (hahaha) At that age, the first thing that I went straight for was the clothes section. I saw a cool shirt with a matching visor and told my mom I wanted that one! She was appalled at the thought of buying clothes in K-Mart and vehemently said no! But I got my way after I threw a tantrum, and my sister Trina decided she wanted the same item in red, and joined in the ruckus! Looking back, I realized the reason for her disapproval. My mom says that its better to have a few quality clothes and shoes than a lot of cheap, trendy items flooding the closet. She calls it "investment dressing". Fast forward to now, and me and my predisposition to expensive stuff (quality doesn't come cheap) is cause for her consternation.

My sibs and I used to complain that there's always no food in the house. I mean yeah, the refrigerator may have meat, eggs and vegetables. The fruit bowl full of mangoes, oranges and bananas. The pantry stocked with pretzels, trail mix and granola bars (my mom's concept of junk food); but where are the potato chips? The chocolates? The cakes? The donuts? That's what we mean by food! You'd expect a maternal woman to say, "Kids, junk food isn't healthy, it won't do your body good!". You know what she answers back? "Pasalamat kayo walang ganyang pagkain dito! Kundi matataba na kayo lahat! Kaya kayo payat dahil sa akin!" ("Thank me for not buying junk food! If I did, you'd all be fat! I am the reason why you are all skinny!")

My mom always tells us to put on nice underwear (in case you get into an accident) and sleepwear (in case you have to dash out of the house if ever there's a fire). She believes one always has to look presentable, at all friggin' times! But unlike my brother who manages to cling onto his favorite holey shirts, us girls are resigned to the fact that yes, we always have to look neat to avoid being the target of our mom's tirades. I have taken this to heart, and I make it a point to look nice even when I sleep. I have a vast collection of pretty pajamas, mostly ones I make for myself. I choose the prints and have my seamstress make me sets and sets for me to admire, and doze off in of course!

I realized though that I am one of the very few people who behave this way. While some people may look presentable, even kikay outside the house, they love wearing ratty stuff at home! Their oldest, most threadbare house clothes! That's why I have an affinity with girls and guys who get excited about a silly thing as nice pajamas! They are the ones who live and breath style - even in the privacy of their rooms. While there are an enlightened few who believe in the importance of sleeping in style, the concept of fashionable sleepwear here in the Philippines is still unchartered territory.

But I appeal to those who are not yet converts! There is a world to discover out there! Join me and my fellow believers in our journey to dreamland!

Isn't this collage of items from sleepyheads.com enough to set your heart and mind racing at the possibilities? Love it! Love it! Love it!

Nick & Nora® Sleepyheads.com Midnight Snacker Blue Flannel Pajama

Nick & Nora® Sleepyheads.com Circus, Circus Original Luxury Red Flannel Pajama

The Cat's Pajamas Geisha Print Capri Set PJs

The Cat's Pajamas Heels and Handbags Poplin PJs

The Cat's Pajamas Sushi Fannel Sleep Shirt

Incidentally, The Cat's Pajamas was founded by college friends Jenny and Lynn, who graduated from Stanford University (with degrees in sociology and american studies) mind you!

Now here are some sleepwear possibilities from Frankie & Johnny!

Frankie & Johnny Fairy Tale Wedding Print

Frankie & Johnny Apple Orchard Print

Frankie & Johnny Sleepy Sheep Print

CUTE! CUTE! CUTE! I WANT THEM ALL!!! Heehee! If you'd like some nice sleepwear here in Manila, I suggest you check out Women's Secret, Rustans (they carry Natori and a private label sleepwear line) and the Ruth & Esther boutique in City Golf Plaza Ortigas -- the shop stocks pajamas I designed myself ;-)

(Photos courtesy of sleepyheads.com)