Bigboy Cheng: At home with the crown prince of Fresh

Bigboy Cheng’s crib is a storehouse of art toys, sneakers, apocalyptic Simpsons toys, and touching stories about leaving home and finding one’s self.

Let me go Goodfellas on you, guys.

Meet the crew. There is Boy Bangus, an entrepreneur and basketball-Fra Lippo Lippi fan who got his nickname because “daeng kasi nang daeng” whenever he buys shoes. There is chief toymaker Rommel Chua whose mantra is to give up drinking but almost always ends up with a bottle of Henny by evening’s end. Johnroy (real name: John Roey) Alferez is depicted in a portrait wearing a white hoodie and is flanked by Mr. Lion and Mr. Wolf; the painting hangs in a secret room somewhere. Lolo Swaggy is asleep on the sofa (probably dreaming of shoes that are “box pa lang, ulam na”). And then, there, presiding over the gang under the sari-sari store sign is Christian “Bigboy” Cheng — Secret Fresh owner, Uratex marketing executive, DJ, art patron, sneaker and toy collector, as well as YouTube sensation. The men call each other “Boss,” share food from a passing fishball or kwek-kwek cart, and talk about an upcoming art toy collection from, say, Ron English or Ronald Ventura. Occasionally, they break into a Meteor Garden dubsmash. Life is good.

Bigboy regularly posts sneaker unboxing sessions with his dramatic foil, Anti Shoe Expert (Milton Sy). Their YouTube channel has 66,000 followers and counting. The pair recently went to Paris Fashion Week for Balenciaga, spotted celebrities like Vogue’s Anna Wintour and noted the Incredibles and Devil Wears Prada connections, and spent a couple of days in Amsterdam. Geez, we could just imagine their zany adventures in the city of hash bars, girls behind glass, long and languid canals. Bigboy in his signature Supreme or Off-White gear and Balenciaga Speed Trainers, walking around with Anti Shoe Expert whose hair was styled, according to Bigboy, a la Count Dracula’s.

Various art toys in Cheng’s collection, including Jim Phillips’ “The Screaming Hand,” Banksy’s “The Flower Thrower,” Olan Ventura’s Voltes V-Bigboy mash-up, as well as dreamy pieces by Takashi Murakami and Ronald Ventura

But, wait, why is there a “Lourdes Snack” sign inside Bigboy’s house, bannering its ubiquitous “WE SERVE LUNCH — Tapsilog, Pork Chop at iba pa!” credo? And it came an honest-to-goodness Lourdes Snack establishment. At first, the owner refused to sell the sign. But Bigboy and crew made an offer the owner could not refuse. He bought it for P25,000.

Even the Secret Fresh gallery at Ronac Art Center has a sari-sari store — complete with a Tanduay sign and festooned with Malabanan, tubero, house-for-rent, and anay-removal flyers. 

This is a reminder of my childhood, answers Bigboy. “As a boy, I used to hang out in karinderias and bakeries with my friends on Miller Avenue, Project 7, Quezon City — hindi pa uso kidnapping nun. So, laking kalye ako.”

They would ride their BMX bikes (like the kids in the E.T. movie), buy Spanish bread and Milo, and then hang out in sari-sari stores. “Doon nagsisimula lahat ng kuwentuhan eh.”

Another Bearbrick in the wall: The house is a veritable museum of cool.

Thus, in his house filled with thousands upon thousands of limited-edition sneakers (atop conveyor belts, under mood lighting — everything from Nike’s Back To The Future Air Mag sneakers to the Undefeated Air Jordan 4), art toys (created by foreign superstars such as Bansky, Takashi Murakami, Yoshitomo Nara, Luke Chueh, and Kaws, as well as every Filipino artist who matters), not to mention audio equipment and designer gear (Supreme, Supreme, everywhere Supreme), you would find that sari-sari store replica in front of the vintage, mid-century Coke soda dispenser and Shell gas pump restored by Rick Dale of the History Channel’s Kings of Restoration, occupying a place of honor. Kenneth Cobonpue’s Chewie stool rocks in one corner.

On the surface, you would think Bigboy is the quintessential Boy Who Never Grew Up, still giddy over the Voltes V plastic robot he bought for a cool P1.1 million, after dogging the owner for a year; still stoked every time he unboxes the latest LeBron or Yeezy kicks with Anti Shoe Expert and other conspirators; still fired up every time he converts on a post-up move — like Sir Charles Barkley back in the day — while playing in a basketball court inside his house (full-court pa ha); still wired to play host during Secret Fresh openings, equally at ease in talking with celebrities such as Iza Calzado or James Yap or Julius Babao, art collectors like Terry Que, as well as mere mortals like you, me, and the chicharong baboy vendor.

He is a modern-day Willy Wonka with multimillion-peso enterprises centered on the things he loves: toys plus art plus art toys.

But Bigboy is a devoted family man, spending quality time in his house with his wife and two sons and their posse of Pekingese. And the road to his Oz, Neverland, Erewhon, the Chocolate Factory was far from an easy one.

Secret Fresh first opened in 2006 on Sgt. Esguerra St., Quezon City. “It was just 20 square meters, umuupa lang ako sa kaibigan ko. Toy shop lang siya nun, but since I had items by Gary Baseman and Tim Biskup, Pinoy artists would come in and buy toys — sina Egg Fiasco, Christian Tamondong and even Manuel Ocampo. But afterwards, guys like Ron English would bring in small paintings when they visited. So, naging accidental gallery tayo.”

But Bigboy was forced to close his shop just after two years. It was too ahead of its time.

“Nung time na ‘yun, ang hirap mag-market ng toys by local artists. Nagkanda-utang-utang na ako. Pero hindi ako sumuko,” he says.

“We Serve Lunch”: The “Lourdes Snack” sign is authentic. Bigboy bought it from a karinderia owner for P25,000. The vintage Shell gas pump was restored by Rick Dale himself.

Bigboy re-opened at the ground floor of the Ronac Art Center in 2010 and the rest is art toy history. Upon its wake would be the sold-out art exhibitions, jam-packed booths at Art Fair Philippines year after year, rabble-rousing DJ gigs all over the country, the unboxings, Balenciaga junkets, etc. Hard to believe there was a time when a young Bigboy had to run away from home because of a gambling problem, losing millions in casinos, becoming a shell of a man hounded by Lady Un-luck. Fleeing from that seemingly inescapable betting itch.

“I got into my car, took the remaining P10,000 from my drawer — my last money! — and just drove and drove and drove,” he recalls. “At the toll booth, I asked the attendant where was the farthest place where I could go. And he answered, ‘I-derecho mo sa Bicol!’ Sira-ulo din ‘no (laughs). Hindi man lang sinabing Laguna na lang (laughs).” Bigboy got to Bicol all right, but it was during the Feast of Our Lady of Peñafrancia, so all the hotels were booked. In one of the hotel lobbies, he met a kindly old lady named Manay Edna who told him where he could stay. She directed him to another hotel that was way further from the hub. But when Bigboy saw the tiny room with a really tiny bed, he became even more depressed. “Parang masisiraan na ko ng ulo nu’n, kasi ayoko mag-isa, so I went back to Manay Edna.” She said, “Sige, Noy, sa amin ka na muna tumira.”

Big Bang: Bigboy’s art toy collection is constantly expanding.

It was bliss for Bigboy: to live in simplicity, austerity and much laughter. A year-and-a-half’s spell in Bicol made him realize what he had gambled away on those seedy card tables and slutty slot machines. How essential family and friends are. How important it is to maintain a sense of childlike wonder — even as a grown-up.

Bigboy returned to Manila a different man.

His siblings took him back, his mom forgave him: the prodigal son. It would be inaccurate to say everything became rosy from thereon. There were struggles and relapses. But when Bigboy put up Secret Fresh, learned to manage his own employees, and earned a living for himself and his family, that was when he started appreciating what he had amassed so far: art toys (created by artists who are/or eventually become his friends), sneakers (sometimes given to employees and friends to sell when they are hard up for cash) and apparel (lovingly shared with Bigboy’s sons). They are not just objects per se.

That’s what other writers fail to grasp when they visit the man’s crib. Yeah, they will wet their pants at the entire grocery list of designer toys and designer footwear, Googling crazily about Munky King, OriginalFake and Virgil Abloh, running you down with trivia about LV or RIF.LA. But what impresses me most about Bigboy Cheng’s home is the person living there.

Kick out the jams: The sneaker rooms have 24/7 air-conditioners and dehumidifiers.

Again, why is there a sari-sari store in the middle of his house? (Aside from the fact that it reminds Bigboy of his roots.) Because it is symbolic of what Filipino art is — assorted, diverse, eclectic, always surprising, ever-expanding, and there is definitely something for everyone.

So says The Boy Who Grew Up To Be A Lost Man Just To Become A Boy Of Wonder Again.