Dressing Appropriately for One's Age

Lately, I've been thinking more and more about age-appropriate dressing. At 33, I'm doing a wardrobe update of sorts, adding more "grown-up" pieces—e.g. shift dresses, collared (sleeveless) buttoned tops, and skirts—infusing the same pops of color and play on prints that I've come to love all these years.

Oddly, I dressed more like a 30-year-old in my twenties and a 20-year-old in my thirties; a teen when I was a tween and a tween when I was a teen!

That said, I'm a lover of clothes (and accessories!). I remember as a child, my mom and I would go on regular visits to the town's seamstress who would make us pretty things that I will brazenly say resemble Resort pieces in a prepster kind of way. Back in the day—which really isn't too far back as this was only the eighties—it wasn't unusual for people to go to a family tailor or seamstress to have clothes made.

Fast forward to 2013, we have Zara, Gap, H&M and a hooplah of ready-to-wear pieces that frankly, do a fine job of translating high fashion to us mere (rent-paying) mortals. I'm just a bit more scrutinizing of fabrics these days, after having read "Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion," a thoroughly researched book by Elizabeth Cline. Check out this New York Times review.

So, back to the age-appropriateness of my wardrobe. I've recently put together a peg that more or less encapsulates my game plan for this age and stage. It's a happy hodgepodge of pages clipped from the March 2013 issue of Vogue that I've been using as a guide for shopping. (Trivia: I'd inadvertently picked out Pantone's "color of the year," emerald green, as seen below on the Eres ad. Who knew?)

Clockwise from top left: structured "corseted jacket" with tortoiseshell-plexiglass belt and breastplate, Alexander McQueen; cutaway top with "fishline detail," Alexander Wang; black tweed top and shorts, Sandro; happy pops of colored enamel, Revlon; model-y looks e.g. silk pants paired with a printed blazer, A-line demi and pencil skirts by Proenza Schouler (the latter look as seen on Victoria's Secret model Miranda Kerr, I totally intended to copy with a recent purchase of a sheer black top and brocade skirt); cute green bra, Eres; scents from Balenciaga and Narciso Rodriguez.

Oh, and yes—my take on age-appropriate dressing? Wear what makes you happy, confident and comfortable! True, I do cringe at the sight of skimpy clothing, especially on mature women and teenagers... or make that, in general. But then that's just me, I may have grown more conservative over the years in terms of that balance between going short here, long there; business in front, party in the back, etc. But, who knows? Maybe one sweltering day I may just bust out a tube top and mini myself!

80’s Flashback

80’s flashback: Hershey’s Miniatures, Mr. Goodbar and Special Dark :) 

Mariel Jimenez | 30-day Blog Challenge 2013 | Day 14

Freshman 15 Sneak Peek

DAY 29

of the 30-Day Blog Challenge, 2011

A preliminary PDF proof.

I recently had a non-fiction book published, "The Official Guide to ZAPPING the Freshman 15"—a health and lifestyle primer co-authored with Marsha Irving (a fitness trainer, model, and actress). I first blogged about it here, and mentioned I would post select pages "one of these days." Today is one of those days.

It's a thrill to see your work in print, especially if you're a paper girl at heart like me. When I was little, my parents had a bookstore and I grew up having free access to many books—Archie comicbooks, in particular—and magazines (I attribute my hypochondriac tendencies to having pored over issues of Reader's Digest as a tween.).True, I have a keen appreciation for the online world and the web of opportunities made possible by its existence and success in the realm of publishing. But, nothing still beats the feel of printed paper in one's hands. All of the above explains why I own an iPad and still impulse-buy magazines at Hudson News (and also why my fascination with companies like Hearst and Condé Nast will never ever wane).

So, PAGES!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: First! Starting Freshman Year Right

Chapter 2: Stressbusters

Chapter 3: Go, carbs!

Art, layout, and design by CLAUDE RODRIGO.

Freshman 15 is available on Amazon, (paperback and Kindle edition), Barnes & Noble online and Xlibris (our publisher).

5 Things That Make Me Happy

DAY 23
of the 30-Day Blog Challenge

Last week, I felt a little spike in stress levels, most likely brought about by womanly concerns of the monthly kind. I found it even more necessary to focus on the positive and fixate on the things that bring happiness—versus those that only encourage more (and at times unnecessary and self-inflicted) stress. That's not to say though that I didn't indulge in a little sob session on Friday night on the phone with my husband.

Walking home from work that day, I pondered on sunny things (people, food, and more) and came up with the following. This list actually goes on longer, but I've kept it down to five for blogging purposes.


1. My husband

If you've been reading this blog, you'd know that I'm not too keen on public declarations of love. I'm just private that way and territorial with moments I share with the man in my life. So, other than wedding pictures and our Pat Dy slideshow, you won't see photos of us hanging out, vacationing (well, a few beach photos here and there, but never posed together), etc.

But, if I may just say one thing, my husband truly is a source of joy for me. He is amazing in the way that he is gentle, kind, and forgiving. I've had to kiss many(?) frogs to know a kind, well-meaning man when I see one. And, even now that we are miles away from each other, he still makes me happy. So, that's number one.

The original Lu Petit Écolier chocolate-covered biscuits. Perfect with tea.

2. Chocolate

I should mark this as "self-explanatory." Chocolate-covered biscuits, brownie and chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream, dark chocolate, chocolate croissants... I enjoy some form of chocolate at least once a day. I'd recently discovered the Petite Madeleine version of the famous Lu Petit Écolier chocolate biscuits from France now even more widely available in groceries and drugstores (e.g. Duane Reade) in America.


3. Cheese

No matter how broke or financially liquid I am, you will always, always, find a block of cheddar cheese in my fridge (and to add its kissing cousin, dijon mustard—the perfect combo for a grilled cheese sandwich). I'm democratic about my cheese; it can range from a supermarket brand like Kraft Cracker Barrel, to a vintagey supersharp one like Bega from Australia. To get maximum fridge life on a single block, I usually wrap it in wax or parchment paper encased in a small resealable bag.

It doesn't have to be this many or fancy; one good block of sharp cheddar cheese is usually enough.
(Although of course, variety is always welcome.)

4. Barilla Noodles

Or any kind of noodle or pasta. At my neglected blog, AllMySugar.com, this has emerged an obvious fave topic to write about. Noodles definitely top my carbohydrate list. They are just so good, hearty, and chewy. Also, I've read in the past that if you've experienced a troubling situation, eat some spaghetti with meatballs. I've also been told that pasta makes you sleepy. So there you go.


5. Potatoes

As we are in the subject of starches, potatoes rank high up there as well. I was practically bald until two years old. My paternal grandmother and relatives used to say that I ate too many potatoes, thus, my 'potato head.' My father's side of the family made a delicious traditional Filipino beef stew that they called 'guba' (it's actually widely know as nilaga) that had boiled potatoes in it. I would mash these soft potatoes over rice drizzled in the savory broth. Yum.

Image courtesy of Lubiscuitsna.com (Lu Petit Ecolier).

Dream Come True

[Reposting from "Baked!" at Yummy.ph, November 2009]
I was around eight years old the first time I realized I could feed people with the things I whipped up in the kitchen. Carpenters were renovating our home (my parents bought our house barebones, with gray walls and hardly anything built in). I went into the kitchen to toss some flour and water to make my own Play-Doh and as an afterthought, decided to flatten and toast it in a hot pan and then finally coating it in sugar. One of the carpenters ate it, which I found really amusing—and gross, because to me, it was play-dough!

Before that, I spent weekends and summers at my aunt’s bakeshop. She let me tinker around and even let me use her candy thermometers, trays, and random ingredients—even the expensive ones. I made my own pink lollipops wherein I boiled sugar and water and waited until the thermometer pointed to ‘hard crack’; put in a few drops of red food coloring; poured the scorching mixture onto metal sheet pans; and then lay Zest-o straws over the hot sugar, slightly melting them in the process. I also watched my aunt create intricate Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle birthday cakes, and she let me make my own cheese candies and butter frosting to decorate a small cupcake (or two) to take to my best friend’s house on a playdate. Thanks to her, I became aware at an early age how delightful and delicious butter could be (as opposed to lard or shortening).

Over the years, I would be in and out of the kitchen. But it wasn’t until these last two years that I’ve seriously perused a career in food. The plans may still be blurry at this point, but so far, I’ve taken to blogging plenty of times about the things I’ve made in the kitchen. Food was always in the background, no matter what job I held. Well, at some point, I did work in a restaurant as a hostess and maître d’ during my early months in New York. And when I started working in an office again, I brought freshly-baked banana chocolate chip muffins and nutella to share with colleagues. When I found myself jobless, I baked more muffins and brownies as I nursed my wounded ego and jumpstarted my freelance career.

Fast-forward to more than a year after and much to my delight, I was recently called in to blog for the new and improved, Yummy.ph! So here I am, chronicling my foray into the baking world, with lots of sweet (and at times savory) musings along the way.

As if right on cue, my mother also gifted me with a brand new Kitchenaid stand mixer: the 90th Anniversary Edition in Candy Apple Red. Certainly I no longer have an excuse to not officially tinker about in the kitchen. So far, since it arrived, I’ve made chocolate cake, buttermilk biscuits, carrot cake, lemon vanilla cake, chocolate chip cookies, and oatmeal raisin cookies with it. And I can’t wait to talk about and share with you all these sweet treats. Meet you back here next week!

Yummy in my Tummy

Officially starting my blogging life at Yummy.ph, one sweet treat at a time.

In between deadlines—procrastinating, if you will—I'm mostly in the kitchen, tinkering about and trying out something I've seen on TV or browsed online.

Other than that time I applied as an editorial assistant at Quick & Simple (a New York-based title that folded last year and replaced by Food Network Magazine), it never occured to me to make a career out of the food I love to eat and make. Blogging about food was just that: sharing epicurean adventures along with tidbits—from the bittersweet to the palate-inspiring—about my life.

In hindsight though, food was always in the background no matter what job I had. As an intern at Seventeen, one of my earlier assignments was the Eat section wherein I wrote about making yummy alternatives to dorm food, and how to spice up regular college fare (e.g. drop a few pieces of Tobi Mexican Nuts in your regular Nissin's Yakisoba for extra crunch and protein). One of the first things I had to ask a photographer to shoot was a jar of Nutella.

At work, food to me was always a priority. Ask any supplier I'd regularly worked with and I'm sure they'd tell you that the minute I got to the studio, as the models were being prepped and made up, I was ordering our lunch from Yellow Cab and North Park. Out of probably a hundred shoots, I can only recall one time when the makeup artist and hair stylist actually had to remind me about ordering food, only because I had a fever and was struggling to keep shooting.

So, I am HAPPY and absolutely THRILLED to announce that I'm going to be writing for Yummy.ph! The newly revamped website of Yummy Magazine! With special thanks to Frances Amper Sales for putting me up for the spot. When I got the email, I couldn't believe it; the only other time I've been a voice of 'authority' when it came to food was when I was co-president of the Young Homemakers Club, a.k.a. YHMC, in high school.

Click here if you'd like to read my first post for my blog Baked! over there, and as always, meet you back here for more sweet and savory musings along with all the other flavors that make life—and eating—even more exciting.

Young and Old

Two photos taken 20 years and 30 lbs. apart :)
(Nope, I'm not blaming the cake for that.)

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you may have noticed that I rarely place photos of myself or my family members (especially family members, and the kids). I am guessing this is partly because of having been spoiled during my magazine years with art directors who airbrushed, tweaked, and polished every stray blemish, excess flab, or wayward strand that whatever photo of myself came out in print was guaranteed to be flawless as realistically as possible. (And yes—consequently, I've had to deal with "Oh, you look fatter in person than in your picture in the magazine" side comments in the past.)

These days, I have to do my own airbrushing with the modest skills I've learned using Gimp.

Another reason for not uploading too many self-portraits is that I may have developed a defense mechanism of sorts of wanting to be read, understood, and scrutinized for my personality and the output of my brain—a.k.a. the "real me"—versus the color of my hair and skin.... I only have New York job interviews to blame for this budding insecurity.

Still, I couldn't help but share these two photos taken 20 years and about 30 lbs. in between. I find them somewhat similar, because of the pose, and interesting because my younger self can look like my daughter, if I had one.

These days I can empathize better with women who yearn for the poreless skin of their youth, that once smooth exterior/posterior, and that overall physical creaselessness of ages past.

Finding Your Passion

I once read before that what you were when you were 7 is what you’re likely to turn out to be when you’re a grownup.

Looking back, the things I did during playtime and countless afternoons were activities I eventually made careers out of.

If you’re hitting some on-the-job roadblocks and feel like it’s time to branch out, perhaps all you have to do is look back on those summers you spent as a child. What appealed to you the most? What made you look forward to those days without school? Or what subject in school was your ultimate favorite throughout your academic life? You’ll be surprised to put two and two together and come up with a promising and potentially perfect career mix.

Here’s my own trip down memory lane, plus some realizations along the way.

Makeup and Playing Dress-up

When I was little, maybe around 3, my mom gave me a small green shoebox filled with old lipsticks and other makeup she no longer used. Around that time, I’d also successfully bitten my aunt’s strawberry Chapstick and discovered that how it smelled and lingered on one’s lips wasn’t necessarily how it tasted once you’ve chewed a chunk of it.

Eventually, at 7 or 8, when my parents were out working, I spent afternoons rummaging through my mom’s closet trying out her Splash Cucumber astringent and Mary Quant mascara. I also wore her high heels and oftentimes wrapped a blanket around me pretending to be a Miss Universe contestant. (My cousin and I loved doing this. That year, Miss Thailand won, and we both wanted to be her. So in our version of the pageant, the commentator would say, “And the winners are, Miss Thailand 1 and Miss Thailand 2!”)

Working in magazines was not unlike all of that. I got to wear a lot of makeup—and also put it on other people—and play dress-up, and got paid for it(!).Who would’ve thought?

Cooking and Baking

In the 80s, my aunt had a flourishing baking business wherein she made beautiful birthday cakes and formed them into famous cartoon characters like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all those cool caricatures from that time. She was also known for her araro [cornstarch cookies] and Sans Rival, and at some point, she sold egg pan de sal from her home bakery.

I used to spend plenty of summers and weekends in her shop. In retrospect, I’m surprised at how generous she was that she just let me tinker about. I had free reign on the sheet pans, candy thermometer, and powdered sugar, and I even made my own frosting using Anchor Butter, like there was an unending supply of it. I also learned early on the difference between butter and shortening, a.k.a., vegetable lard (the latter is gross).

Fast-forward 20+ years and I’m wielding my own electric mixer, sifting flour, and making my own sweet treats in the kitchen—going through sticks and sticks of good butter. It’s a delightfully decadent example of history repeating itself.


Reading and Writing

Growing up, I was only allowed to watch TV on Thursdays—that was when Okey Ka Fairy Ko aired—and on weekends. So I spent many quiet nights reading and going through children’s encyclopedias and fairy tale books to my heart’s content (my dad also owned bookstores back then).

With all that reading came writing. My earliest memory of being ‘published’ was in second grade, when I wrote a poem(?) for Mother’s Day that came out in the school paper. I still vividly remember because that was the only time I didn’t spend my 10-peso allowance for a day (or two) so I could buy my mom this red-orange lipstick from the store beside my school.

As the years went by, writing and reading have been mainstays in my chosen career path. When I got a copy editing job at a famous fashion retailer in New York, I was stoked: What could be better than reading all day while getting to look at beautiful clothes in the process? When I had that job, I also did my writing projects at night. To me that was the perfect work balance doing both the things I loved to do.

These days, I still try to maintain that equilibrium of doing the things I enjoy and, even if it’s sometimes literally just pennies, earn an income in the process. Like my dad said (and that I always repeat), “Do something you love to do and the money will follow.”


Drawing and the Arts

Now, I’ve never really fancied myself a drawer. I’ve carried what I call ‘drawing guilt’ ever since that summer when I was about 8 and my mother got me a portrait sketching book. I got impatient following the steps, so I traced the faces. When my parents got home that day, my mother kept on raving about how talented I was and how marvelous my drawings were. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I cheated.

So all my life, I simply assumed that ‘art’ wasn’t really my thing or calling. After all, I’d worked with so many amazingly talented artists and art directors and there was no way my stick drawings could have been up to par with what they produced.

When I got into makeup artistry, I did wonder why I was able to shade people’s faces, but was still ultimately clueless when it came to sketching and drawing. I figured, I probably just had to take up an art class to learn technical skills.

It wasn’t until years after that I would find out from a ‘real’ artist that tracing was actually a start, and that it was perfectly okay! So instead of feeling guilty about tracing those portraits, I could’ve persisted and become really good at drawing. Oh well.

My mother recently cleared her storage room and unearthed some ‘paintings’ (I really am uncomfortable with the whole artsy-fartsy thing in relation to myself) I did when my little brother was younger and had this kid easel set up in the living room. When I saw them, I was surprised: They actually looked better than what I remembered. So maybe I could pick up ‘drawing’ and ‘painting’ as sensible hobbies after all, without being embarrassed or feeling pretentious, and maybe someday, no longer underestimate my art skills.

I’m not saying I’m going to ditch everything and live in the woods to take up painting full-time, or anything extreme like that. What I do want to do is get to know other tools—I am now absolutely curious about Adobe Illustrator—that could further hone any skill I may (or may not) have. If I now draw like a 5-year-old, maybe 10 years from now I’ll start drawing like a 20-year-old, and so forth.

My ‘art’ skills may never catch up to my real age, but I’m only happy to explore.

Part of this month's Cosmo Series, 16th of 16 posts also published at Cosmo.ph.

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The Truth And Nothing But

In the new movie, The Invention of Lying, people live in a world where everybody tells the truth.

Up until I reached freshman year in high school, I didn't make a big deal out of white lies, or lying in general. Growing up, I watched people fib about random, silly things, so I found myself also stretching the truth here and there.

That came to a halt when I was 11. (Yes, I was a very young high schooler.) We were at my friend Mia's house when one of the girls called me out on a white lie. I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it was exactly: It was so in-passing and probably an exaggeration of tween proportions, perhaps like how one's little sister would exaggerate, "My mother bought me these sparkly blue shoes and they had real diamonds!"

What I do remember to this day is that our friend Dawn said jokingly, but meaningfully, something to the effect of:

"Hey, that's bad. Lying is wrong."


I don't remember her exact words; after all, that was 18 years ago (she may have also pointed out to me that lying was a sin). But I got reminded that lies, no matter how 'small,' were just not right.

From then on I quit lying, cold turkey. Except when I was 13 and told a guy I went to a different school. Other than that, I don't remember a distinct moment wherein I'd purposely spoken an untruth. Or if I did, it was probably one of those things when you're filling out a form and it asks you for your annual income and you don't really know so you just round off some number off the top of your head; or if a creepy person asks what your name is and you say something else. That kind of stuff.

In the years that followed, I became this straightforward—at times to the point of tactless—frank, and transparent individual. Some of my teachers also called me out on this. My first boss nicknamed me The Truth Serum.

It's true, though (and for sure you've already heard this before): The truth is just easier to remember than a string of lies.

Part of this month's Cosmo Series, sixth of 16 posts also published at Cosmo.ph.
(Image courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures)

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Travel Trinkets

One of my favorite things about traveling is packing snacks—
I love munching on them at the airport and whipping them out during flights.

I'm so excited about our family's upcoming trip to Washington DC. I told myself earlier this year I would try to channel all the traveling I did a while back, and so far the ball is rolling. (I still crave a European trip though and I'm not sure when I'll get to go.)

Last night I was compiling some accessories to bring to DC and stumbled upon this combination of silver/metallic jewelry.


Looking at my wrist, I loved the playful mix of trinkets, because each represented a story, a person, or a moment.

The bracelets are actually two necklaces combined. I'm not even sure if they're made of silver or stainless steel, or even something cheaper. I got them back when hair and makeup artist, Benjie Angeles, used to drop by the Summit offices years ago hawking an assortment of accessories, all at least one of the following: chunky, bohemian, intricate, or in this case, 'blingy.'

When traveling, I like to bring multi-purpose pieces, mostly beaded necklaces that I can twirl around my wrist, or cocktail rings that stylishly cap off my no-frills, wrinkle-proof portable outfits.

I'm particularly drawn to men's watches, so I rarely wear (or own) anything smaller, like the one I have on in this photo—a sleek and dainty Timex watch given to me by my dad's wife, Leena. She and my dad have been together for eight years now, and she has been nothing but sweet, delightful, and kind. She got my dad into loving dogs, and then cats, so their house is now filled with furry friends: four Chows and about seven Ragdolls and Bengals, if you don't count the kittens that arrive every now and then. My dad's favorite cat is Maurin, a name he'd coined by combining the cat's father's name, "Mau" and "rin" (Filipino for "too"). "Mau-rin," get it? (This post tells you more about my dad and his humor.)

And of course, there's my engagement ring, from the guy who used to leave M&Ms and other sweet treats at my desk; who also always packed a big "chocolate stash" in my suitcase every time I traveled out of the country.

As I no longer have many of the valuable things from my childhood and now mostly own colorful costume pieces, it's so refreshing and wonderful to know that I have something truly precious to take along with me, wherever life leads me.

A Better Coke

A former colleague shared this video over Plurk and my gosh—I remember this song, almost by heart! (And did you know Lilet relaunched her singing career a couple of years ago with the name Marielle?) Anyway, to refresh your memory, this was a popular Coca-Cola tv commercial in the 80's. I'd forgotten a Tagalog version also came out. I haven't seen this since I was a kid (second grade?) so I got goosebumps hearing it again.



Sing along if you like :)

I am the future of the world
I am the hope of my nation
I am tomorrow's people
I am the new inspiration

And we've got a song to sing to you
We've got a message to bring to you

Remember me
For you and for me
And tomorrow (tomorrow)
If we all can agree
There'll be sweet harmony
Tomorrow (tomorrow)

And we all will be there
Coca-Cola to share
Feeling so real and so true
(Feeling so real and so true)

Promise us tomorrow
And we'll build a better world for you
(Build a better world for you)

I LOVE this song! They don't make commercials like this anymore.

Magalove

A page usually starts as a scribble, an idea in an editor's head.

It's safe to say that magazines are my first love. Growing up, my dad owned a small bookstore (and by the end of the eighties, opened a few more) in our hometown. It was common back then to allocate a shelf or two for adult magazines—the Playboys and Penthouses of the decade. And whenever it was time for my parents to wrap each risqué read into their individual glossy plastic packaging, I was relegated to one corner of the store where I quietly read my Archies, Reader's Digests, and you guessed it: magazines. (No—no Playboy for me.)

So in retrospect, I'm not surprised that I ended up working in the magazine industry for quite a number of years. I still do, somehow. But these days, it's a more languid, less intense version of my life as a full-time editor. As a freelancer, I can practically spend the day working in bed. I do miss the stilettos, though.

This drawing is a sample of how I would brainstorm with my art director in the past and it's a page peg of a project I recently worked on. A page usually starts with an idea, scribbled on a piece of paper, and from there, blossoms into a full-fledged editorial—styled products, lead-in photos, captions and all. As you can see, I'm not the very best drawer around, but so far, my doodling ways have produced about seven years worth of magazine clips.

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked if I still wanted to pursue a magazine career in New York. The answer is yes and no. Yes, because I would never turn down the prospect of working for one of my favorite things in the world. There is nothing like opening a new, freshly-printed issue; the feel of glossy paper sticking to your fingers. But then, no, because I also feel like the platform has changed. That's why more and more, I'm actively pursuing and nurturing all my online endeavors. Yet again, when the magazine bug bites, one must scratch.

If you work with a very talented art director, he or she will get what you drew and come up with an unbelievably concise mock-up of the page.
(layout by Khennette Dy)

Blast from the past

When I started spending summer at my mother's almost 10 years ago, I brought with me several items. To name a few: a Sony Walkman cassette recorder (a Christmas and birthday gift from my dad which was pretty neat back then because it had a plug-in microphone and customizable features), my first laptop (it weighed a brick), climbing gear (I was an avid sport and rockclimber back then), and clothes I wore throughout college.

As Mom—the one who basically took care of my wardrobe needs as a vain kid—left for the States middle of high school, by the time college rolled around, my wardrobe was at its most streamlined. When I remind her of those years, she gets really sad and refuses to listen any further. So in the last decade or so, she's compensated by buying me one too many things.

During her first trip back to Manila after being gone five years, she noticed I looked "yagit" (a Filipino word meaning really, really poor) which broke her heart. Immediately she took me on a shopping spree that practically lasted her whole vacation. (I still have underwear from that shopping trip.)

Anyway, she saved some of my old clothes—mostly T-shirts—from those years and a couple of days ago, I unearthed the contents of the box. So I'll share them with you.

I had a Mickey Mouse T-shirt fixation that stemmed from a high school crush who wore a vintage one at a party. I was a senior and he was a freshman (or sophomore?) at the university. I never really got to know him, but the Disney shirts outlasted my crush on that guy.

If there was one thing I distinctly remember wearing during freshman year in college, it was this Seventeen top from Cinderella. It just went with everything! Plus, it was a hand-me-down from my mom.

If you asked people who knew me back in college, they would say I was perennially clad in shorts and Birkenstocks. The particular piece in front is a Collezione "skort"—a bottom piece that looks like a skirt outside but is actually a pair of shorts underneath and from behind. Clever, eh?

This shirt was special because I got it on my family's first trip to Pearl Farm in Davao and my first time to ride a plane ever—at 17 years old! Anyway, I had another shirt with the print, Durian Republic. Years later I would meet the owner of the shirt company, who now owned a famous coffee shop in the south called Blugré.

Like I've mentioned earlier, I was an avid climber. And this is a tank from a national sport climbing competition I'd joined in Cebu. I have wonderful memories of those years and to this day my palms get sweaty whenever the subject of rockclimbing comes up.

One, Two, Three, Sharpie

If THAT doesn't put a smile on your face, then I don't know what will :) Imagine rows and rows of Sharpie markers of different shapes (regular, retractable) and sizes (fine, ultra-fine, chisel). I was wandering the aisles of Office Depot earlier today shopping for supplies when I came across this cornucopia of colors. At $1.69 a pop, you can't go wrong with this treat.

Remember those magnetic pencil boxes in 80's that were like mini-gadgets sorts, with buttons that made compartments and a bevy of other 'features' pop out? I have the fondest memories of back-to-school shopping at National Bookstore (and Cinderella for the Esprit notebooks; I was ten at the time!).

In the town I spent my grade school years in, a small bookstore across campus sold Garfield notebooks and those with local celebrities printed on them (the likes of Romnick Sarmienta and Sheryll Cruz at the height of their stardom). My mother and cousin used to threaten to buy me those at the start of the schoolyear. You see, I was a pretty vain kid and I was very particular about what I bought. My notebooks had to be nice. My bags had to be nice. My socks had to be nice... Oh boy!

That said, I had really ugly handwriting. I used to copy all the popular girls' handwriting and didn't come to my own until much later in high school. And then I got better and better at note-taking as the years went by, all the way to my adult working life. So there goes the trajectory of my office-supply fascination.