The Life and Times of a Problem Child

Un nuit en McQueen

One of my greatest fears is wearing something that has lycra or spandex or has this elastic quality (except for those trusty black Speedos for swimming... which suddenly reminds me I still haven't found mine and it's already six mois!!!!!). It is simply not meant for those who are not in shape. Case in point: MOI.

I am often conscious but la paresse is always an inextricable part of me. I dread regimes but somehow I should see it as a kind of self-torture which can transcend itself as fun (in a certain way). In my world, my idea of a good time is often equated to giving myself a hard time. It's much like when you push people you like away from you and the more they try to get to you- that's exciting. But lately, that's not a part of les repères quotidiens. I think I'm just rather getting exhausted so for a change it might be healthy to contradict myself.
 
Meanwhile, I should consider myself lucky to have at least a piece of Alexander McQueen in my closet because no matter how good McQueen could be under Sarah Burton, I grew up seeing Lee as a personal hero who helped me cope up with a lot of my own personal struggles. Fashion was both an escape and a kind of unattainable territory that I never stopped dreaming about. Those Lee-raving days in itself were one of my best memories of my not-so-good childhood. I was often misunderstood but that still adheres in the context of the present. D'ailleurs, his works offered some kind of relief to me and to have just a piece of that could be one if the most wonderful things ever that has happened in my life (or make that my life confined and governed by bourgeois materialism and consumerism).  

Specs: YSL, cotton-spandex pull: Alexander McQueen, montre: Casio, sac: Agnès B, pleated trousers: Zara, baskets: Comme des Garçons SHIRT.

Photo: Mark Arvin.

A Mild Obsession

Shall I address it as a little obsession? I can't seem to get over this photo of Stefano Pilati that I came across on Self-Service. It seemingly hints on inspiring me to put on an ensemble with such colour palette. It's much too appealing to me for now.

For someone like me, I have grown allergic to colour over the past few mois and I guess it can only intensify even further. Peut-être at one point these colours represent that kind of sublimity, obscurity, and ambiguity that is my present condition now. The last thing I can think of if imagining myself in bold and intense hues. Neon is certainly out of the question. The farthest I'm going for colour is through pastels. En tout cas, I really like things tone deft or subtle much like our lives these days- made boring by the bourgeois confinement. The best thing to do now is read Henri Lefèbvre again. HahaHa!

Something Called JACQUEMUS

Well, well, well, well, if wishful thinking isn't an integral part of mes repères quotidiens, I would practically be running out of things to say on this blog. Comme d'habitude, here I am again hoping that a certain label has a men's line. Case in point: JACQUEMUS.

I inevitably succumb to this kind of easiness, unlikeliness and laziness in terms of dressing up and I kind of feel good seeing this autumn lookbook of JACQUEMUS. It would just make me go mental to create an men's sartorial imaginaries out of these images. And maybe because there's not too much fussy details that are present, it's very pleasing to the eyes of someone who's just so jaded about fashion already. Also, that combination of an olive green sweater and a sheer material gives a very edgy at the same time subtle pairing. I can also think of these clothes as rather very complementary to a bit of urban decay, artifice and crudeness in one orgy, a subtle kind of resistance to the bourgeois confinement, an interesting product of bourgeois boredom, and some of those subliminal elsewheres I just can't really speak out in full detail (as we all know, I'm fairly good at fragmented and incoherent thoughts so just let me be anyways).

Big, Big, Big, Bags

I wasn't particularly taken away by the most recent Dries Van Noten collection. En général, I am usually overwhelmed by his défilés on a wholistic perspective meaning I usually love his collections. For printemps-été 2011, I rather find it somewhere between a 50-60% liking of the whole collection. So, moving to specificities, the bags are quite something. Malheureusement, this is a hands-off territory for me as bags are less accessible than shoes and I find myself justifying the purchase of shoes more (but maybe in the future we'll see). I have an undying love for enormous bags even if they can be quite an inconvenience because I like bringing a lot of stuff with me. For instance, I could just opt to bring a book but I'd end up bringing three or more so that I'd have something to goo with my mood hence inevitably, a heavier bag on my hands or shoulders. Right now, I'm rather content with my canvas and nylon bags (for utilitarian purposes) and it's gonna stay like that a little longer. In any case, the bleached effect below is just not for me but big bags with no oversized hardware and logos could always make me say OUI.

Les désirs de la chair: One Slutty Evening

There are days when I do not feel the need to wear my usual clothes which is often a pair of jeans paired with a shirt or a tee shirt. So, I end up going for the shorter options in life meaning wearing shorts and showing a bit more flesh!!!!

For this ocassion, I wore the shortest pair of shorts from my closet. D'ailleurs, this is the shortest I believe I will go and nothing higher!!! From someone who's, it's quite a relief to feel air actually hitting my lower extremities because despite the extremely humid weather, I still end up leaving the household in skinny/slim jeans or wool trousers.
Specs: YSL, blazer: Dockers, polo shirt: Façonnable, slim tie: Topman, grey belt: Celio, white shorts: Topman, nylon bag: Agnès B., patent lace-ups: Ros Amaya.

In the Mood for Easy Listening

 
Let's lighten up a little or shall I say I should be the one doing so?! I just thought that this record is a must to induce an atmosphere of legérété. I badly need it. I've been burdening myself too much lately with overthinking and taking a mood stabiliser the other day only led me further into the realm of le dionysiaque. D'ailleurs, I was much too taken away by Enhco's instrumental interpretation of the Gainsbourg written chanson Quoi which is often sung by Jane Birkin. So, I really should have this record on my hands. If only record stores here aren't too damn americanised in terms of their selection!!! En tout cas, let's start working on that legérété thing shall we?

Beatrix Ong for the Guys!

Beatrix Ong is a name I'd often come across in the domain of women's shoes. A little earlier, I was quite amused to see the label coming up with some styles for men through Far Fetch (which has been ages since I last checked it).

Comme d'habitude, I'd like a little renegotiation avec les couleurs!!!!! If these were in a lighter shade of brown, a couple of neutral earth tones: olive green, viridian mixed with burnt umber kind of brown, prussian blue or navy blue, dark grey, and the like, then we're really off to a good start (and on to a very boring colour palette which completely defines moi!).


P.S. The ones on sale which I assume are last season's (pictured above) seem to appeal to me more. And on a cinephile-related note, the leather and wool lace-up is named the Minghella lace-up shoe... how very appealing, non?! Also as far as texture is concerned, I'm rather drawn to pony hair as a more textural alternative to suede! En tout cas, I should work on finding my first pair of pony hair shoes!!!!! haha

La méconnaissance du sublime

The sublime necessitates an inextricable connection to my life these days. I do apply this sensibility with clothes and trust me it can only get even more fucked up. Somewhere in the terrain of the unbeknownst, is its self-contained freedom towards a kind of ignorance or a likeliness towards a misreading and that's the beauty of it. For instance, when you ask me about my fascination with the sublime, I could go on for hours talking to you about it passionately and not be particularly guided by a way of conceretely nailing it down or defining it. Tout d'abord, that notion of sublimity somehow transcends over to these clothes by Nunzio del Prete. There's that emptiness, that vagueness, and that lack of colour that heightens that dark atmosphere and I am forever drawn into this kind of sartorial territory.

Nostalgia: Le patient anglais

 
Lately, I've been dreamy over those sensual encounters between Count László Almásy and Katharine Clifton. This was one of the reasons why I totally became fanatic over Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas in the first place. They have this kind of refinement yet it's very natural and still evoking that touch of légèreté. I, for instance, am very much aware that I can never be refined and not look or maybe it comes with age or with a kind of recklessness too. It can also be some kind of borderline mélange: légèrement anti-conformiste? In these times, you can never really be an absolutist or a purist though you can always try your hand at a certain degree of elitism.
 
Max Minghella's Le patient anglais continues to move me to this day. I think what cinema has been for me personally is the realisation of a visual frenzy. And in this visual frenzy, my fantasies like the forbidden apocalyptic desires one can only dream of in real life assume a transient reality sur l'écran. That in itself could be enough for me now.

Skulls and Bones

 
A professor of mine made each and everyone say something about a possible thesis you'd like to work on and I said I'd love to work on how death is being represented in contemporary Philippine art. And my professor goes on joking at me why am I not wearing black that particular day. I thought this tee shirt with skulls all over should've been the one I should've been wearing that day to make things more obvious! hahahahahaha

D'ailleurs, it was a bloody 36.5 Celsius that day and given humidity conditions here; I just wouldn't dare even if I have a very strong leaning to black. The heat makes me consider things apparently to the more logical and practical sense of it. Being a romantic in the tropics and in a country wherein salaries aren't so appetising more often than not works to my disadvantage. But no matter what, I will always be here struggling to survive and entertain you with my fucked-up thoughts. Manille and I complement each other comme les amants who at times are in something mortally sensual and the next day wanting to kill each other.
  
Tee-shirt (with sleeves I cut myself!): Triple Five Soul NYC, écharpe en cotton: Bayo, jean: Cheap Monday, baskets: Vans.

Photo: Lee Catalasan Cepeda.

Les Satinades chez Herchovitch

Well, well, well, it's time I get blinded by les satinades chez Herchovitch!!!! I don't really take a certain fancy over gold shoes but some of the shoes here I'd actually like to have for myself. Case in point: The greyish copper with black combination, the rose lace-up, and the black lace-ups. En tout cas, I just get excited at the sight of something metallic and lustrous and attention grabbing!

As much as I love anything tone-deft, monochromatic, and in blanc et noir in the règne de la mode, it's always interesting to take interest in articles of clothing that contradict your taste or personal style. Fashion is like a whore you have to treat as an object for your desires and even to your destructive and violent desires. D'ailleurs, it's also my medium for contradicting myself de temps en temps. Eh ben, in that way, fashion can be discursive and sensible. And I'm not trying to put words into your mouth but this is just the way I see things. So, the gold lace-ups seem interesting enough to be a crucial part of my attempt in being humorous sartorially. I just know for sure I could never be funny in a Charlie Chaplin/Pierre Étaix kind of way.

Largo's Back!!!

I'm in the middle of so much activity or to put it more concretely, a bunch of academic paperwork and things to write (on the sidelines), I consciously opt to not deal with all of them now. Being the absolute procrastinator, I resort to spending time over at Allocine browsing and browsing upon bandes-annonces of films that I know would never reach Manille (or maybe after a decade or so and there's really nothing I could do with the annoyingly Americanised film distributors here). Now, this leads me to the excitement on my behalf that there's a bit of more concrete info on the new installation of Largo Winch. I should be keeping a close eye on this one. I've never been too consumed with a second installation of a film like this one as of recent history!!!

Playlist no. 14

New playlist, new obsessions.

The Drums: Forever and Ever Amen.

Charlotte Gainsbourg: Time of the Assassins.

Darwin Deez: Radar Detector.

We Have Band: OH!.

Crookers feat. Roisin Murphy: Royal T.

Detachments: Circles.

I Wish I Could...

I wish I could do this every day- go home with three pair of shoes at the end of each day. For now, I see it as a pre-requisite to happiness. Alors, let's just worry about it being Sissyphean after I've gotten far too many designer shoes already. And when that happens I could fondly cite Henri Lefèbvre for saying ''Everything is almost a hundred per cent redundant!!!!''

It is needless to say that I am a little obsessed with shoes. I'm kind of gearing myself towards being the boy who lived in his shoes. It couldn't be a bad thing at all, non?

I have come into terms that it's much likely I stay single for as long as I'm here in Manille. In other words, I've quite accepted the fact you won't find your Durasian lover here. Or maybe you could indulge me and tell me your ideal histoire d'amour. So, make your choice between: Dionys Mascolo et Marguerite Duras, Nancy Cunard et Louis Aragon, Marlene Dietrich et Erich Maria Remarque, or Jean Cocteau et Jean Marais. In any case, there are always the material confines of this world to control us or get us back on track. One could nurse a disappointment or a heart ache with playing Schumann on the background while sipping vin rouge and going around your living room in Lanvin.

Bref, a pair of high tops from Jil Sander and a new pair of baskets and lace-ups meant my happiness this time. Finally, I am on my 2éme pair of Jil Sander. Hopefully, there will be more to come so I better start saving up again!!!!

Elle et lui

 
There are those things you discover through your parents and one of them was those films avec Cary Grant. And these things you will remember fondly. Case in Point: Elle et lui avec Cary Grant and Debborah Kerr. En anglais, it is better known as An Affair to Remember.
 
At one point in my life as a teenager, I had this obsession which is the pursuit of being a man. Peut-être I've seen far too many films with Gregory Peck, Cary Grant, and Humphrey Bogart. I inevitably found their auras and their garde-robe extremely appealing. Ben alors, until the more recent phase of my life; it's the sublime and the borderline mélanges where I find myself comfortable with. With one's insanity comes one's take on the sartorial and anything that has to do with the way you live. In any case, I'd always like to look up to Old Hollywood films. It's much like rekindling memories of the ideal that can only encourage an ounce of romanticism but at the end of the day, it's a bygone era.

Les souvenirs d'un espoir ancien

 
Ever since I pursued further studies in art, I seem to have been a bit off the fashion track. I just never seem to have the same convictions about fashion the way I did over a year ago. In particular, I would never defend that fashion could be an art. To sum it all up, I do not romanticise about it or take it too seriously like the way I did before. D'ailleurs, this leads me to recalling how I'd always highlight or elevate the dream of mine to friends as if it was the peak of it all.
 
Peut-être I could still consider pursuing my plans on being a menswear designer but it's just one of many other pursuits I am considering for now. For the mean time, fashion serves as a good escape especially when reading Henri Lefebvre extends an overwhelming reality hors de texte. The superficiality of fashion keeps me grounded so as not to let go and reach a kind of madness that I wouldn't be able to control. So, I'll keep my superficial tendencies close. It's for my sanity and my welfare.

Good Times

There are times when there is hardly any need for words and the photos are enough. Furthermore, this is an undeniable reminder of the good times and one of the best nights I've had with friends here in Manille.

Noirs fétiches

I have an obsession with the whole le smoking look. Malheureusement, it's just out of the question for me to consider purchasing one especially if the ideal ones would come from somewhere like Balenciaga or Yves Saint Laurent! The other day I was getting dreamy over a le smoking blazer from Hugo Boss which costs a little over EUR 1,000 but I just stared at it and felt it in the confines of the store. It was inevitable we part so I kind of think of our fates (me and the blazer) as Emanuelle Riva and Jean-Paul Belmondo in Melville's Léon Morin, prêtre.

Evidement, it is an undying fixette. It is deeply embedded in my head regardless of the fact that I am having a good or a bad day. Right now, I did a little ensemble referencing a bit of le smoking yet deconstructed in a certain light and putting the argument in the crevices where answers have not yet been found. It's a very Lyotardien way of thinking, really.

Specs: YSL, leather blazer: Zara, chemise: Express, slim tie: Onésimus, mock croc belt: Celio, pleated trousers: Zara, baskets, Maison Martin Margiela.

Photo: Mark Arvin.

Melancholy Doesn't Get Any Better Than This

Aki Kaurismaki is some cinéaste I've been growing extremely fond of these past few mois. It's all because of Les lumières de faubourg. I must say of all the poignant films I've seen this has to be in my top five of all time (or that may change knowing how unstable or how my preferences are constantly evolving at this age of mine). It's just immensely hard to get over it. The memory lingers on and it turns into a kind of heightened depression.

In general, I do yearn for the melancholic mood in films. The whole experience rather gave me more reasons to pursue melancholy. She's always moving, a prerequisite to the kind of beauty I subscribe to, an act of resistance against the false values of society, and a by-product caused by the boredom caused by bourgeois societies all over the world.

On top of everything, I have this growing curiosity about cinéma finlandais so it was good to have started it with Kaurismaki. Although I've encountered several names in the domain of Finnish cinema from some issue of Les Cahiers du Cinéma but you see I really have bad memory. So, those names would have just probably stayed in my head for a couple of days, barely a week. C'est dommage, vraiment!

Another Chemise Blanche

There are some things that are undoubtedly inescapable for someone like me. One of those would be a white shirt. I have never stopped at the idea that ideally I should be realising that I at present have around twenty yet I do not feel it is enough. It is also quite ironic that no matter how much you already have there are is a certain minority in your collection that you exhaustively use. One of them is a shirt from Lane Crawford, one from Ralph Lauren, there's that one with small polka dots from Zara, and one from Express that's shamefully the easy-iron type aka for lazy people (as you can always see me wearing one of these in my outfit posts). Et alors, my latest acquisition is a ceremonial type kind of white shirt from Marc by Marc Jacobs. It complements my Dries Van Noten cropped blazer (another piece from my garde-robe that I could never stop using).

Other than white shirts, there are shoes and books- the other great loves de ma vie.