Official Owen

*style file

Personal Style: Eclectic, rugged, and slighty disheveled preppy.

Inspirations: New England Prep, British High Street, the work of Belgian designers, the military.

Best Investment: Jackets I bought last decade. I still wear them to this day. 

Wardrobe Essentials:

1. Jackets in black, white, and khaki

2. A print or silhouette (only) I can get away with

3. Printed or colored socks

4. White Vans lace-ups

5. Does a stubble count?

Idiosyncrasies:

1. I like my shoes weathered. I am not a fan of footwear that looks too cared for. Perhaps this contributes to the 'slightly undone' look I favor.

2. I rarely step out in just a t-shirt. Oxfords and other button-down shirts are easier to wear and style.

3. I shudder at the thought of wearing jewelry. The most gold or silver I wear comes from a couple of watches my Dad handed down. I am, however, a fan of woven and multi-strand bracelets. The more, the merrier.

4. Printed socks are always the way to go. Always. Speaking of socks, I would rather go sockless than see hints of 'invisible socks' peeking through my boat shoes.

5. One must dab a scent for every reason. Or season. I have scents I can conquer the world or feel princely in. 

 Style Mistakes:

1. Carbon copying someone else's style or a magazine editorial. Acceptable in your teens, but not when you've lived longer.

2. A bad fit. 

3. Anything counterfeit. Your cue to buy local.

4. Board shorts in the city.

Brands:

What I wear - Bleach Catastrophe. Some H&M, Zara, and Topman. J. Crew and Old Navy. The Ramp. Tyler from the last decade. Timex, Rolex, and Casio.

What I want - bespoke Joey Samson and Ivar Aseron. Etro, Dries Van Noten and Comme Des Garçons. Patek Phillipe.

Scents: Chanel Allure Homme, the eponymous Marc Jacobs scent, Acca Kappa, Bulgari Aqua, and Issey Miyake

Icons of Style: Jay Gatsby, JFK, Steve McQueen, Brandon Flowers, Andy Warhol, Chito Vijandre and Ricky Toledo, Carlos Concepcion, Andre Chang, Kanye West, Marc Jacobs before he hit the gym.

Sounds: Bon Iver, Florence + The Machine, Kylie, Coldplay, The Beach Boys, indie, 60s and 70s soul and rock.

Travel Dreams: Europe and South America

Ideal Weekend: In our little home in Subic, away from the city crowd. Either that or a get-together with longtime friends.

What is style? Style is one's totality. Clothes only make up its outer core.

*stages

There are times when you need to descend from cherished pedestals to move up to new platforms.

 

*grounded

'Humble' comes from the word 'humus' or soil.

Literally, no place is lower. Figuratively & realistically, it is the highest place of all.

*my work socks!

Digging up DMs from 1995 is sweet serendipity. They come at a time when work wear is at a fever pitch and every stylish man I observe is giving the lumberjack look its much needed refresh. 

Coming from a long love affair with boat shoes and Camelot, however, I find myself sockless for the most part. All I have in my dresser are striped and houndstoothed knits for my feet. They (socks) are too princessy for these ruggedly handsome boots.

While my love for prep will never go away, I am happy to be trotting around town in these legitimately vintage shoes. Kaso nga lang I need the right socks for them. 

I must buy these...

  

Locally, I was inspired by Carlos Concepcion's styling and personal style. The man knows how to work it kasi. Pics c/o his blog Kingdom of the C. 

Okay. Must sleep now.

*star turns at star magic

Young actor vs young actor over young actress aside, this year's Star Magic Ball didn't fail to keep up with its reputation to surprise. Here are my picks for well-dressed. Sadly, those two young actors and that young actress were not sartorial enough to make the cut.

It is almost always impossible not to shine in an Inno. Look at Heart Evangelista. She outshone every other Star Magic contract artist that evening. 

Gretchen Barretto in Inno Sotto. Told you so.

Cristine Reyes always looks better covered up. Sleeved and still sexy in an Edgar Macapinlac.

Iya Villania in Joey Samson. This girl has always been on my style peripheral. That night, she was front and center.

Megan Young in Sassa Jimenez. She nailed it.

So did the younger Young. Lauren, also in Sassa, looks like the Odette to Megan's Odile.

Finally. It took a Michael Cinco to get the glamazon out of Gretchen Fullido. Before this intervention, her sad dresses in the evening newscast were already taking its toll on me.

I honestly do not know who this girl is, but please tell her that other than her sad purse, she got it right. She wore a Nat Manilag.

There are some women in this world who just don't seem to age. Look at fresh-faced Agot Isidro, in a JC Buendia, looking her usual classy. This capsleeved number would've looked sad and old on someone else. 

KC Concepcion wore Ezra pretty well. And if rumors are to be believed, she also wore her heart out pretty bad.

For reasons even I could not pinpoint, Kathryn Bernardo and her Francis Libiran looked so much better than the dozen others who wore the same silhouette that evening. Perhaps the headband is too much, but still apt for her age. 

Maricar Reyes and her enigma looked amazing in this red Francis Libiran. Peek well enough and you'll see that her shoes match the fuschia of her clutch. The actress and her color combination that evening are the best mysteries in showbiz and fashion reads, respectively.

Weird how my well-dressed list is bookended by stars from the rival network. Here's dusky Lovi Poe in a Nubian-inspired Rajo Laurel dress. This dress, as well as its black counterparts previously seen on Pam Quinones and Anne Curtis*, is reserved for the non-Spanx set.

===

*See what I mean?

 

 

Pics from Stylebible. 

*yun naaaah!!!

Eto na siguro ang pinaka-astig na pick-up line na nabasa ko.

May kaakibat syang nerdoks na kilig. Syet.

*the editor's september note

Gawd, I hate it when this blog turns into a work diary. (The whole thing screams 2007*.) But this week has been great. That's saying a lot, to think that the workweek isn't over yet for me.

It's been awezum working with a devoted team of artists-logicians, giving a face to the brand I carry to the local media, deciding between hot pink and baby pink or serifs and sans serifs, and dodging/fighting/surrendering to the usual roadblocks that make work work. At times though, it's too fun that it becomes a paid hobby - exactly how productive time should elapse.

Perhaps I am swooning like a kid on his first date and will dread this romance one day, but I'd like to capture this moment as accurately as I can. I haven't felt anything like this (professionally) in a long time after all.

===

*Naknampoocha. Haha.

Look at a 'vision entry' I wrote back in, ugh, 2007. So far, it's been seeming real.

Lesson here: Write your projections and they'll find a way to your present.

*time and motion study 1 (written June 2007) 

8:30 am – Woke up after only 5 hours of sleep and six snoozes (intervals of 5 minutes) until finally deciding to get up and heat leftover Chinese from two nights ago. Last night’s launch party was a hit. Thanks to an efficient staff, generous sponsors, and a fabulous guest list. Smoked the breathtaking city skyline ‘ Good Morning. ’

8:40 am – Checked personal email and comments from ‘the’ blog while brushing teeth. Never gave up on that bad practice. Must explain the bubble stains on the hardwood floor.

8:45 am – Cold shower while singing excerpts from the Rent Soundtrack and a soon-to-be hit from this obscure band discovered at a gig five blocks down. Never lost that tremolo; those days singing with the church choir were worth surviving post-pubescent limbo.

9:05 am – What to wear? So much free designer duds lying around the couch, nearly half of them unworn and last season. But really, who cares if it’s last season? The rest of us can only afford it now anyway.

9:45 am – Cab to work. Traffic’s hopeless. Might as well hit the subway. Backed out of the ride. Ran into an old friend from high school while buying a subway card. Free dinner on Saturday. Don’t we all love freebies?

10:20 am – Office Lobby. Not worth the attention given to Hamish or ALT as they step out of their Town Cars, but you’ve got to admit; people see you differently if they’ve seen you ’re doing a pretty good job. Smiles,besos , and small talk abound.

10:23 am – Elevator talk. The whispers are so potent they could sub for a double dosage of Vitamin C.

And that, dear reader, is the editor's note to my September Issue.

*kangaroo fix

I admit. I have a wild fixation on the office kangaroo. The inflatable reminds me of the crispy fried chicken in Temptation Island. It stands majestically above one of those steel cabinets like your Mama Mary stands on a pedestal. It is the perfect counterpoint of cute and cheeky.

I had to borrow it and stage a photo shoot...pronto! (My job allows for this kind of whim now.)

At last.

Now I can sleep.

(Yan-Yan named it Roo. I took it forward and named her Roofa. The Kanga.)

*on heavy rotation

Ever heard of Augustana? Some friends from the office have known them for a while; I discovered them from an episode of Letterman. They border on cheesy - exactly how I want my enchilada.

 

This song from Arctic Monkeys makes me smile. Title pa lang. 

 

This too. The melody is so happy, you forget about gyration and liplocking. 

 

*charm, slice, and dazzle

Though The Devil Wears Prada will forever be a favorite and its opening scene the ultimate prep-for-work peg, there is another song I refer to for when I want to darkly poeticize my post-shower ritual.

I've known The Prayer by Bloc Party for a couple of years now and though it is decidedly sad and drugged, its all-about-me lyrics drive the point home. I want to be able to charm, slice, and dazzle as much as the next practical dreamer and would love to sometimes say it in a f*ck you kind of way. Kele Okereke's litany takes care of that for me. 

 

I wonder what KT Tunstall sings when she dries her hair for work. This could be her prayer too after all.