Fantastic Man: Jacques Shu reading

Fantastic Man never ceases to amaze and surprise me. Part of the reason why I like this particular "Reading" series from its Spring 2009 issue is that it publishes these images in the context of the lives of particular people - in this case, "featuring five charming Parisians and some suggested reads for this spring season". This raises the level of the magazine way above shallow fashion.


'Angels and Ages'
At rest, PR manager Mr. Jacques Shu is wearing cashmere jumper by Prada over a t-shirt from Uniqlo and jeans from Kitsuné, which also happens to be one of Jacques' clients. Cashmere is a particularly wise choice for those times when a couch is the perfect retreat, with comfort being an imperative to aid the reading process; it also provides warmth should the desire for a nap take hold. The perfect companion for such a somnolent mood is the new book by Mr. Adam Gopnik. Mr. Gopnik, who works for The New Yorker, is the sort of writer to read whatever the subject. His new book, 'Angels and Ages: A Short Book about Darwin, Lincoln and Modern Life', draws parallels between the lives of those two great men, born on the same day 200 years ago. How utterly charming!

Photography by Paul Wetherell, Styling by Mattias Karlsson

One of the first few posts of this blog involves Mr. Jacques Shu. He was photographed by both Scott Schuman and Yvan Rodic in Paris, as below, respectively.

He himself points out to me that he was also photographed for another blog, Style and the City, yet again carrying a bike helmet.

Even before I had any interest in fashion, books jealously held their own sway. Nowadays, I have more time to read short magazine articles than pile upon pile of novels and collections of poetry. Here is a compressed current (bookmarked and yellowed by neglect) reading list:

1. Collected Poems by Odyseuss Elytis
2. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
3. The Cairo Trilogy by Naguib Mahfouz
4. The Unabridged Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu
5. Cancer Ward by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
6. Selected Poems by Gabriela Mistral

Somersault

Apologies for the long delay in posts, and again, for just posting pics of bed-cast clothes. This is what I wore to last night's event, a collaboration between Miadore jewelry by Yekky Balingit, photographer Seven Barretto, and the design alliance Fadal Manila. Plus a book that I picked up at the bookstore before going to the venue.




Unveiled were 14 canvases that bore photos of Miadore necklaces worn with the creations of the Fadal designers. (More on the event on my Benetton blog.)




Now that I think of it, I wore the same lacey-y shirt and skinny jeans with another Bosquejo necklace on the first day of Philippine Fashion Week last May. (Time does fly!)

The Bosquejo necklace I wore was new, not even available on my website. Part of the reason I've been so busy. But hopefully, I can take a much needed break real soon... But back to the clothes: don't you think the silver-edged buttons match my Hardware necklace so well?




What I also love are the paisley print blazers by Levenson Rodriguez, which go well with Yekky's shimmery brooches. I wonder when I can have a jacket made... (*hint, hint*)






But now for the title of my post, taken from the book I just bought: Somersault by Kenzaburo Oe. Because this is precisely what I need these days: a total change, a flipping of priorities, the lifting of feet from familiar ground.




Yes, changes are abound, which I shall be telling you about soon enough. For now, it is time to sleep, and of course, to dream!




Blazer, Fred Perry; Kenneth Cole shirt and Dior Homme jeans: both thrifted; belt, Nautica; necklace, Bosquejo; briefcase, Bally

"Clothes" by Wisława Szymborska

You take off, we take off, they take off
coats, jackets, blouses, double-breasted suits,
made of wool, cotton, cotton-polyester,
skirts, shirts, underwear, slacks, slips, socks,
putting, hanging, tossing them across
the backs of chairs, the wings of metal screens;
for now, the doctor says, it's not too bad,
you may get dressed, get rested up, get out of town,
take one in case, at bedtime, after lunch,
show up in a couple of months, next spring, next year;
you see, and you thought, and we were afraid that,
and he imagined, and you all believed;
it's time to tie, to fasten with shaking hands
shoelaces, buckles, velcro, zippers, snaps,
belts, buttons, cuff links, collars, neckties, clasps
and to pull out of handbags, pockets, sleeves
a crumpled, dotted, flowered, checkered scarf
whose usefulness has suddenly been prolonged.

Mula sa Rupero/From the Hamper

By Miguel Paolo Celestial



Madalas sa madalas, tuwing tayo'y nag-uusap,
di ko mawari kung sino ang iyong nakikita
bago mo pa isa-isahin ang plastik na butones,
bago mo tanggalin ang tupi ng aking mga manggas.


More often than not, when I catch ourselves talking,
I have to second-guess who it is you see
even before you remove my buttons one by one,
before you unravel each and every fold of my sleeve.




Dahil kapag niluwagan na ang sinturon at nahulog
ang pantalon, nakakalimutan ang landas ng sapatos,
nawawalan ng kasaysayan ang dumikit na alikabok.
Iisang mata lamang ang malulusutan ng sintas,


Because once belts are unfastened and trousers
surrendered, where my shoes have been doesn’t matter,
there is no history to the dust stuck to my soles.
There is only one eyelet to thread our laces,




ngunit pareho tayong nakapikit, natatakot
hubarin ang pinakahuling pilas ng damit.
Pawisan, balat sa balat, dagli tayong nagbibihis,
sinusuot ang sari-sariling kamiseta ng hininga.


but we go through the motions with eyes closed,
afraid to cast off our last layer of clothes.
With sweat sticking skin to skin, we quickly dress,
pulling our breaths like we pull our shirts.




Dahil bago mo pa ako hinubaran sa tingin,
sinimulan na kitang unti-unting tastasin.


Because even before you undressed me with one look,
I have already begun unthreading you from the hook.


************

Shirt and jacket: both thrifted; braided belt, Brave Beltworks; jeans, Levi's; laceups, Marlboro Classics; bag, 5cm; wristwatch, Tissot; pencil case, from Market Market; 'A Village Life' by Louise Glück, from PowerBooks

For more of my poetry and works by other authors, visit Buraburador

My favorite things, part 1: Espadrilles, books, and leather notebooks

My mom just returned from Davao with the top three espadrille colors I ordered (there are of course more, but they can wait). Got another navy blue pair, plus two basics, since the one I have will be giving way soon. Right now I'm in the process of breaking them in. Strange that for me, things happen in reverse: the espadrilles are initially loose, then my feet get used to filling out the fabric.




I am aware that Tommy Ton's amazing blog, Jak & Jil, does My Favorite Things posts for fashion people. I suppose my version is different, since I think only half of my favorite things can be worn, and not a lot of them can be categorized into "lifestyle" items.

These three leather notebooks have been collected over time (their many predecessors are tucked inside a drawer). The top one in checkered suede was a gift from a friend, the one with leaves and butterflies I bought from an artisan in Beijing, and the large, chocolate brown notebook is the latest acquisition. Inside them are doodles and mostly poems and drafts and snippets of poems, my thoughts, and impressions from different periods in my life.




Literature is my first love, and much of the form and content of this blog, believe it or not, has been influenced by what I have read. Here, the row of books looks just like something from a store shelf. You can only see colors, titles, and names. Nothing is surrendered as instantly as clothes surrender shape and texture to both our eyes and our hands. But inside these pages are stories of generations that span continents and many wars, people stranded in forests of sighs, not to mention Chinese silks, exquisite kimonos, and all the finery of the Colonial era.

The sun shines through words as it pierces gossamer, honey, amber, diamonds, or simply: salt.




So what do espadrilles, notebooks, and books have in common? They have all taken me on journeys, whether points A and B are places, people, stories, or the destinations that only silence can reach.


I have relatives coming to Manila from Davao in August. For those interested to buy espadrilles, kindly drop a word.

Back issue magazine Monday

Dropped by Booksale and grabbed six items from the used books and magazines shop. First is 10 men's Summer Autumn 2010 issue, which opens with more pictures from Lanvin men's campaign with/by Vinoodh Matadin and contains an interesting article on "Ten London boys you should meet".




Next is the Summer Autumn 2010 issue of 10 magazine, also its 10th-year anniversary issue. I got the one with Azzedine Alaïa on the cover, who is joined by nine other designers interviewed to mark the event: Alber Elbaz, Dolce & Gabbana (11 and not 10?), Donatella Versace, Helmut Lang, John Galliano, Karl Lagerfeld, Ralph Lauren, Tom Ford, and Vivienne Westwood.




Third on the list is Dazed & Confused's Volume II/85 issue with Tilda Swinton on the cover, who starred in the much-anticipated I Am Love and was also recently featured in ads by Pringle of Scotland. At first sight I thought Swinton posed nude for the magazine. Turns out the main piece was about artists' and photographers' expression of what "naked" meant to them.




Then fourth is Wallpaper's September 2010 issue with booty on the cover. (No, I did not place glare on purpose.) "Butts, boobs, and blonde ambition" means more nudity inside.




Maybe I should have adjusted the glare on this one, the fifth thing I bought: a February 2010 issue of Art Review, which came with a supplement on Paul McCarthy's collaboration with Havaianas: mainly sculptures of naked men, including a depiction of George W. Bush, with pigs. Don't ask what they were doing. "Warm" reading for a rainy November afternoon?




Lastly, I bought a real book. By Proust: volume III of his masterpiece. Been meaning to read In Search of Lost Time. This first purchase, at less than P200, is a good start.

Dolce & Gabbana's rags and tatters

I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets; my overcoat too was becoming ideal. I travelled beneath the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal; oh dear me! What marvelous loves I dreamed of!

My only pair of breeches had a big hole in them … I plucked like the strings of a lyre the elastics of my tattered boots, one foot close to my heart!

('Ma Boheme' by Arthur Rimbaud)




Thus I saw more of the the unkempt, bohemian artist in Dolce & Gabbana's Fall 2010 collection, rather than the worker.

Dust on boots, rips on jeans that are believably from use, and grime and coal-looking denim stains.




Ultralight and thin jumpers that crease like a poet's forehead. I also like the shape of these boots, with laces close to the top and the leather bulging out pliantly.




After an old-fashioned duel that ended in the mud. How thin is that belt? Looks like matted felt.




This is essentially a wellington with excess laces. A nice touch, as is the side handle, which now makes this shoe look part-bucket. And yes, this ribbed sweater could have been owned by a poor man, who just added cloth once he grew out of it.




Even the laces do not disappoint. Socks join vests with "weathered" hems. The faded belt is a good touch. Did someone rip out the denim label or did a bullet pass through? Holes since there are no wallets?






A closer view of a "tattered" velvet vest and jacket.




I'm sure the holes were not strategically placed.




Look closely, even the scarf has holes. Are those pants in jersey?




The distressed "bucket" boot in tan. Pants have patches for longer wear. Nevermind jacket collars. All this talk of starving artists of course fails to account for the spotless velvet jackets.

"He Asked about the Quality" by C.P. Cavafy

He left the office where he'd taken up
a trivial, poorly paid job
(eight pounds a month, including bonuses) –
left at the end of the dreary work
that kept him bent all afternoon,
came out at seven and walked off slowly,
idling his way down the street. Good-looking;
and interesting: showing as he did that he'd reach
his full sensual capacity.
He'd turned twenty-nine the month before.

He idled his way down the main street
and the poor side-streets that led to his home.

Passing in front of a small shop
that sold cheap and flimsy things for workers,
he saw a face inside there, saw a figure
that compelled him to go in, and he pretended
he wanted to look at some colored handkerchiefs.

He asked about the quality of the handkerchiefs
and how much they cost, his voice choking,
almost silenced by desire.
And the answers came back the same way,
distracted, the voice hushed,
offering hidden consent.

They kept on talking about the merchandise – but
the only purpose: that their hands might touch
over the handkerchiefs, that their faces, their lips,
might move closer together as though by chance –
a moment's meeting of limb against limb.

Quickly, secretly, so the shopowner at the back
wouldn't realize what was going on.

My latest fix: Electromagnetic Tentacle tees, part III

What I wore yesterday, plus what I was also reading and what I bought at PowerBooks.




I don't really play Angry Birds on my iPhone or iPad. Maybe since I gave up on my first sitting. Well at least I have this Electromagnetic Tentacle shirt, which shows them in a cockfight (the button of my jacket looks like the scene's moon).






Two bracelets that I wore, one made of faux leather and the other of plastic and stones.

Maybe I should start labelling these posts "What's on my bed", like my "What's in my bag" series. Not "who", mind you.




Books! Brought along my newer copy of Yasunari Kawabata's The Old Capital (I lost my first copy in New York.) Thought I could read while waiting in line at Eiga Sai (Japanese film festival, pass good for two, *hint hint*) but of course realized that Kawabata really does require quiet reading, maybe unlike his compatriot Kenzaburo Oe. The Baudelaire I found with other poetry books I haven't seen in other bookstores, discreetly hidden at one of the back shelves.


Tee, Electromagnetic Tentacle; jeans, Bench; belt, Arnold Palmer, thrifted (first worn here); bag, thrifted; faux leather bracelet from Divisoria; bead bracelet from a friend

Revisiting a summer palette

At about the same time last year, I introduced a gym locker concept, where I posted images of my clothes and stuff just before I left them for the treadmill, weights, and machines.

Though that concept didn't extend to more than two posts, I am back with last year's color combination of yellow, green, and red — albeit all jumbled up. The fatigue pants give way to a suede shoulder bag, the red in the leather to an envelope portfolio, and the yellow in the tee transfers to painter's jeans.




This Easter weekend I hope to tidy up my shelves, perhaps stumble on books I bought years ago but haven't touched. Looking at this most recent set of acquisitions, you wouldn't know which ones I got from the second-hand bookstore (except of course the short stories by Naguib Mahfouz).

As both my bags and painter's pants above were thrifted, so were Martha Quest by Doris Lessing, Teach Us to Outgrow Our Madness by Kenzaburo Oe, and Too Far Afield by Günter Grass.




You see, one can find treasure anywhere, be they in different colors or from different cultures.

Happy reading and shopping!