Wednesday, April 8, 2015

When Your Dreams Have To Wait

            I remember the first time I learned how to sketch. I was copying the figures from my paper dolls (the Sex Bomb dancers were quite famous at that time) on a Grade One pad and it was also the first time my sister told me that I could be a designer if I wanted to.

            I wanted to, but I didn’t push through. For the same reason why everyone else does things they don’t exactly want to. It’s the practical way to go. So I went on to college but I didn’t forget.

            I got into the University of the Philippines-Visayas, initially took up BS Compputer Science but shifted to BA Communication and Media Studies. I got into various organizations and now, I am the president of UP Modus.
The most fabulous org ever.

            UP Modus fosters young talent from designing, modeling, hair & make-up, photography and show production. It was a way for me to get in touch with a side of myself I have almost forgotten. I got screened, passed and became one of their designers.

            (Honestly, I think it was really because of my last name and my medyo far out blood relation to a famous fashion designer. But I have to give my skills some credit as well. I know. Haha!)

            I remember my first fashion show, Fashion’s Night Out: Sweet Escape. That escalated quite quickly. Yes! At the innocent age of 17, I produced my own 10-piece collection. I am both proud and embarrassed by that. Proud, because my sense of self-awareness developed by 3 feet and embarrassed by the arrogance I didn’t know I had. I was arrogant enough to say yes. Some would say it was confidence, or YOLO, but I was waaaaaaay too unskilled for that ginormous feat. But I did it anyway.
            I put all my resources together: called up my relatives and told them I was planning on producing a collection, googled a LOT of topics and used my charm and charisma to get through life. I was clueless on sewing speak. I was shaking while measuring my models’ crotches and chests. My designs were reckless and frankly, quite crammed. But it was a beautiful disaster. It really was.
            I remember sewing on the last buttons a few hours before the show starts and my seamstress calling me to say that she has not started on my 10th piece yet. I remember the overflowing curses I said that afternoon and I remember how my legs shook as I ran to find a cab. I remember hanging all my ten outfits on a rack and waiting for the show to start. I remember telling myself to not forget: the rush, the bliss.

            I remember the glorious moment when I was watching my designs on the runway. I also remember the moment I walked down the runway, hearing the appreciation from the audience. I remember partying my feet out that night, and not remembering the last few hours.

            Now, I’m in my fourth year and another installment of  Fashion’s Night Out is happening on April 18. I may not be designing but a new batch of designers is. I hope they remember this, too. I hope they remember the time they stood up for their dreams; the dreams that have been waiting on the sidelines. I hope they remember this as the time when their dreams—didn’t have to wait. 




See you all on April 18 at La Tolda Plazuela!
Like us on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/UPModus to get more updates

(photos by Karla Magsipoc, poster by Nicolo Doplayna)

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