Busy Business

Saying "I've been so busy" or "I've been so swamped lately" has already become some sort of cliche whether you live in Manhattan or Manila. But truth is, the phrases do apply to the state of my daily worklife lately—which I am taking as a good sign, right? Unfortunately, when this happens, the blog is the first to suffer a backslide. (Oops, I did it again.)

One of my favorite titas [aunts] used to say, "It's
easy to get lost in the busy-ness." She may have been referring to learning how to prioritize the important things in life, e.g. family, friends, and not just work. Back then (early twenties) I had been so immersed in my career as a young beauty editor at Seventeen, and later on Cosmo and Ok! Magazine.

These days, I would like to think that I have struck a balance between the kind of busy-ness that is healthy (a variety of preoccupations is key: desk job during the day, raket-raket [freelance gigs] at night, and yes I try—friends and family first) and the kind that makes you a slave to your Blackberry (I still don't have one, thank goodness!).

Anyway, in an effort to re-integrate myself into blogging, I am answering one of these very self-indulgent questionnaires that are just so fun regardless of their narcissistic qualities. This particular one is from the March 2008 issue of Elle, with Amy Adams on the cover. (I bought this magazine in February and I only got to read it today.) The original answers are by Narciso Rodriguez, italicized:

Elle Fashion Genius
(page 222)

Other than yourself, who is your favorite designer [writer]?
Cristóbal Balenciaga
The writers of Sex and the City the series.

If you could come back as a dress, which one would it be?
Lady Godiva's
A dress I saw in Harper's BAZAAR, I forget whose...
[This came out in the U.S. edition and adapted by the Russian edition for its cover.]

If you could come back as a model, who would you be?
Violeta Sánchez
Giselle Bundchen. I just wonder how it feels to be that gorgeous...

What's your favorite color?
Blue
Here we go again with this question hahaha.

What are you most vain about?
My weight
Skincare.

What are you most shy about?
Too shy to say.
My paunchy midsection ;)

If you could have somebody else's body, whose would it be?
Evandro Soldati's.
Ornusa Cadness's.

Who are you fantasy dinner party guests?
Louis Armstrong, Coco Chanel, Lee Miller, James Franco, Anaïs Nin, Romy Schneider, Gabriele D'Annunzio, Alain Delon, Abraham Lincoln, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, George Sand, and Amy Winehouse.
Diane Von Furstenburg, Martha Stewart, Meryll Streep, Hilary Duff, Paris Hilton, Henry Cavill. And then Henry Cavill will stay behind and help me do the dishes, woo hoo!!!

Where is your favorite place to have a drink?
Angel's Share, East Village, NYC.
In Manila, M Cafe. In Manhattan, Casellula.

What's your underwear of choice?
Zimmerli.
Marks & Spencer: the ones they sell a la Fruit of the Loom in packs of five or six—they last forever.

What's the last book you read?
Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart.
Lipstick Jungle by Candace Bushnell. Now I'm rereading Basic Black by Cathie Black.

Do you have any pets?
Yes, three dogs, named Lucky, John, and Clifford
Basti.

What do you eat for breakfast?
Coffee, protein shake, egg whites.
I have a new mid-year resolution to start eating breakfast at home.

At age seven, you wanted to be:
A monk.
Most probably Betty or Veronica. Most likely Veronica.

What is one thing you find easiest to forgive?
A mistake.
An honest mistake.

What is one thing you find impossible to forgive?
Dishonesty.
Same.

Do you have any supertitions?
Many.
I try not to be superstitious but sometimes I really can't help it.

What's your biggest self-indulgence?
Ice cream.
Cheese.

Favorite place to shop?
Ted Muehling Store on Howard Street, NYC.
I haven't shopped in ages so for now I will say Zara. Today I've discovered Intermix though but I'm still a long way from calling it a fave.

Whose wallet would you like to steal?
No one's.
Ivanka Trump's.

Whose diary would you most like to read?
George W. Bush's.
Angelina Jolie's nannies'.

If you were an inventor, what would you invent?
A time machine.
A contraption that makes one fly (as in like a jet-backpack).

Who is your favorite furniture designer?
Poul Kjaerholm.
Alas, I am still in the Ikea stage.

What's your favorite car?
1967 Porsche 911.
My car in Manila! It's no longer mine now: Chevy Optra.

What was your childhood nickname?
"Cisito," diminutive of "Ciso" (my father), diminutive of "Narciso" (my grandfather).
Maan. Short for Mariel Antonette.

When and where are you happiest?
The holidays at my home in Brazil.
Siesta with Alvs.

Who is your best friend?
Annick.
I don't like the term. I'd been traumatized in high school so I try not to use it.

What is your worst enemy?
Cigarettes.
Sugar. But I adhere to the "Keep your enemies close" credo hehe.

What piece of art would you most like to own?
Gerhard Richter's 439.
Hmm... not there yet. Same as Ikea stage. I like Jack Vettriano's work though.

Where is your favorite vacation spot?
Bahia, Brazil.
Mustique is the dream. Palawan is the plan.

Who is your favorite fictional character?
Cartman on South Park.
She's usually fictionalized: Anne Boleyn.

What is your most treasured possession?
A handwritten letter from a late friend.
I can't think of anything at the moment. Maybe my portfolio because it has all the original clips?

Your favorite band/musician/song?
Radiohead.
Song: Fade by Solu Music featuring Kimblee. Band: Phoenix

If you weren't a designer [writer] what yould you be?
An architect.
A pastry chef.

What current trend would you like to see disappear?
Grotesque accessories.
I have to pay more attention to credibly answer this question.

What's your biggest fashion regret?
A mullet.
Wearing a Giordano polo shirt and pants—thinking that's what "semi-formal" and "dressed" meant—at a movie premiere when I was a freshman in college. Everyone else wore black dresses. That is probably one of the reasons why I am always overdressed now hahaha!

Favorite trend of all time?
Jeans.
Dresses and playsuits—they're so easy and fun to wear!

Worst trend of all time?
Logomania.
The only thing I could think of at the moment is back in 2001 or so, magazines kept on showing models wearing pointy-pumps, with colored socks. It just looked wrong, even if I didn't know much about fashion at the time.

Always:
Be cool.
Choose happiness and honesty.

Never:

Not cool.
Lie and backbite.

The New FN

The "French Lessons" post below can also be viewed at the revamped, relaunched, FemaleNetwork.com—Summit Media's digital darling.

I know, I know: I haven't blogged in two weeks. I have very valid reasons but I'm keeping mum for now. Come June though, I'll be chronicling these precious New York minutes full-force once more.

Meanwhile, please enjoy this lovely "new" site!

PS—
When I get back, I will tell you all about:

1) Meeting Clive Owen...
2) ...and George Clooney!!!

The two of them. In one week :)

French Lessons

My one-phrase-a-week French resolution is still up and running, although in recent weeks I have upped the ante and started learning song verses, instead of my usual "Où sont les toilettes?" and "Where's the supermarket?" So I am onto Anggun's "La Neige au Sahara" (Snow On The Sahara) and hopefully, expertly sing along soon—once I get past the second stanza. ("Perdu dans le désert/Tu es perdu dans le désert oh oh...")

Last week my Parisian colleague, Caroline, invited me over her apartment for dinner. We picked up some penne, fresh peppers, arugula, cream and baguettes from the neighborhood grocer and bakery before heading to the cute abode she shares with Raphael.

Pasta is a mainstay in my everyday fare, but more than anything I was curious to see how the true-blue French made theirs. Do they eat bread with it? (Yes! "Bread replaces the knife" apparently. Yehey!)

I must say it was a pleasure having a very educational dinner. We all compared notes on how Asians/Pinoys and the French sequence their food during a meal. "We eat salad and cheese AFTER the main course," shared Raphael. "Ah, okay, I'll do that now," I say. And after getting bored I go on switch to Pinay mode and start eating my salad, cheese, and pasta, all together now. What can I say? Old (Manila) habits die hard.

I'm off in a few minutes to join friends at a Filipino restaurant on the Lower East Side. I hope they have boneless bangus and fried egg.

Bon appetit!

Live Out Loud

With Cara and her friend, Chris.

I just got home from my boss's fund-raiser gala called "Live Out Loud," a yearly event that recognizes young gay and lesbian achievers, and awards scholarships to these deserving students. It was held at the Chelsea Art Museum, and my other boss took care of everyone's tickets (whew!).

I used to go to events left and right back when I was beauty ed, and these days, the chance to mingle and attend these fun gatherings are truly a treat. And I have more fun than ever because they don't come as often and they're no longer taken for granted.

My train ride home was a happy, steady buzz, thanks to two glasses of Chardonnay, cute little hors'd ouvres, and tiny slivers of lemon cream cake. I was this close to hop-scotching my way home, enjoying the music on my Shuffle, unsuccessfully trying to stifle the urge to sing along to Bill Medley and Jennifer Warns's "Time of My Life" (from the movie, Dirty Dancing).

I thought to myself: Dating, crushes, and relationships aside—this, is me.

THIS is where I'm supposed to be.

And I am definitely enjoying and excited for this adventure that is Manhattan.

"Just remember...
You're the one thing
I can't get enough of
So I'll tell you something
This could be love
Because
I've had the time of my life
No I never felt this way before..."

Fagnet, the Chic Magnet

(from left to right: moi, Kim, Melissa, Louie, Sandy, and Dave)

Why is it that gay men seem to exude style and chic-ness effortlessly, whether it's cuisine, clothing, or something as mundane as a (designer) corkscrew?

My gay "parents" Dave and Louie recently invited me to a semi-housewarming at their lovely new apartment in Astoria. I'd been forewarned that the place "was not yet ready" and that they "have not fully unpacked."

I'd expected boxes and dusty furniture to greet me at the doorway but instead I was met with soft, plush carpeting, high-priced home accoutrements and sleek electronics. I oohed and ahhed in between mouthfuls of salmon and cream cheese canapes and a modest (but tasty) spread of exotic soft cheeses, assembled in the cute corner kitchen.

Bottles of red and white wine fueled this relaxing get-together of mostly *girls* and by midnight everybody had reached a giddy buzz. Louie then opened the zebra-print chest (that currently doubles as the living room's low table) and unearthed his grandmother's vintage fur(!) collection—and everyone got camera-ready as you can see!


Somewhere between fur fittings and a viewing of Cutting Edge ("We're doing the Pam-chengco!") the couple nicknamed me 'Fagnet'—a classier(?) take on the fag hag.

I really don't mind. These days I am seriously getting an incredibly thorough glimpse of Manhattan's *gay* scene, and I feel like a queen floating around in the requisite Cher bob/wig. Last Friday Dave took me to see Little Mermaid on Broadway and I got a taste of not one, but two Midtown and Chelsea hotspots in one night, also thanks to Joseph Aloysius, my friend's va-va-voom brother.

Despite the initial culture-shock (heterosexual couples doing PDA already make me uncomfortable, what more two guys in liplock?) I found a certain lightheartedness and fun hanging out with the inherently stylish gender. "Just don't date them," my boss warned.

Well, the premise that they are not exactly date-able creates a happy buffer that makes life easier, and much, much fun :)

But no, I'm not gonna start saying "Charing!" just yet. I'll leave that to the true-blue hags ;)

My NY "parents" Dave and Louie—aren't they gorgeous?

"One, two, three...fur. Tell me what you're looking fur."