After seeing the test shots, the girl from PULP who convinced me to pose in the first place said one phrase that irritated me no end: "Parang si Zoolander." "Sputing" and "Groovy, repapips!" were the ‘70s small talk I got from my uncles still trapped in the Manila Sound generation. My friend Hans said he laughed so hard when he saw the spread at National Book Store that a girl looked quizzically at him, thinking him batty. "Tatawa ka rin ‘pag nakita mo ‘to," he wanted to tell her. "What the?!!!" was my mother’s reaction. I think a poet-musician-friend put it most profoundly when he said, "Pare, nasisiraan ka na ba ng bait?"
The terrifying thing is, print is forever.
A weird incident: My editor told one of our layout artists to put that photo (ripped from PULP) on a wall; the next day, a rat died in the office and stank the whole place up. Coincidence? Maybe there’s a connection between my tacky, 15-minutes-of-fame pose and the sudden demise of our furry friend from the Port Area sewer.
Flashforward to a month. I could still smell the dead Mickey Mouse scent, visualize myself with an Esther Canadas pout, and almost feel the stylist’s cadaver-brown powder on the tip of my nose when I attended the press presentation of this year’s MTV Fashionista Model Search at the poolside of Hotel Intercon. The people from MTV (like Charley Bautista, luscious Vanessa Mayuga whom I used to watch in MTV Embassy, plus those I-didn’t-get-their-name pretties) looked quite excited.
Only the contestants looked unruffled. I know the attitude these guys should project, considering the fact that I spent 15.04 seconds as a, ehem, model. They had to look cool, calm and collected (the 3-C cliché) as they navigated the poolside in swimsuit and casual wear, spray-painting their names on wooden boards, pouting and striking "the pose."
Looking at the contestants, it is a safe to say that MTV has attracted fine-looking male and female ramp models this year. Unfortunately, only a pair could romp off with the "MTV Fashionista Best Model" trophies which will be handed out on Nov. 12, Tuesday at the NBC Tent, Fort Bonifacio Global City. The winning male and female will be the country’s reps to the Best Model of the World contest to be held in Istanbul, Turkey on Nov. 29. The stakes, indeed, are quite high.
When the male finalists strutted in and I saw the publicity photos, I found out each of them has a shtick to speak of, a definite quirkiness, an ineffable quality; all of them, in short, are characters.
Ritchie Odejar, believe it or not, is into Zen  as in Zen meditation and stuff. Ton Lao loves bonsai and tea in the afternoon. Adrian styles himself as a frat boy. Don Panganiban is a "choirleader meets rock star." (Hmm... like Jon Bon Jovi and Pavarotti cooked in the same gene pool?) Jasler Ubaldo is into swimming. Dos Quong is a self-proclaimed class clown. (A sidenote: All the class clowns I went to school with went on to become stuck-up real estate or insurance salesmen or, worse, serious politicians; it’s hard to reconcile the image of the kid who cracked the sickest joke or made fun of a classmate’s parents or outfit with councilor so and so who tells the whole goddamn city that so and so project was made possible by him and him alone.) But Don as a jester is probably an exception.
Kelly Davis is a prom-king type of guy ( the kind who snags all the prom queens, leaving crumbs and chicks with thick facial hair with names like Bartola to nerds like us). Edward Bunugan is "the boxer." (Lai la la la lai la lai.) Mark Hernandez is "the writer." And Bim Cecilio is "the painter."
And then came the more delicate creatures  the female models vying for the Fashionista plum.
Riva Parkinson is a European exchange student and she’s really, really headturning. Cecil de Guzman is the "class bitch." (Sidenote Part II: All the class bitches I went to school with married early, became loving housewives and mothers, and lived happily ever after; it was the introverted ones who raised hell later on.) Monica Padilla is a prom-queen type of girl ( the kind who’ll only go out with Mr. Prom King himself). Bambi Abdulsani is "the debater." (Not much to say about that... since she might rebut.) Nikki Quesada is the martial arts expert. (And she can level me with a roundhouse kick anytime.) Francesca Briñas is the "beauty queen." Love Bacallo is "the environmentalist." (Aren’t we all? Considering the fact that earth is the only planet with good plumbing and air-conditioning as far as we know.) Duckee Timaro is "the non-conformist." (She firmly believes in conforming to the non-conformist mindset.) Gilmarie Pacamarra is the "class geek." (At last, a comrade.) And then there is Ella Evangelista, "the cheerleader." (She’s a looker, pom-poms and all.)
In the end, just like in Highlander, there can be only one. Or in this case, one male and one female Fashionista. But what the hell is a "Fashionista," anyway? I asked some of the contestants to offer a definition.
Riva said, "An MTV Fashionista embodies and carries with him or her the looks, body and attitude of the MTV Generation  setting the tone for the styles and groove of the day."
"Anyone can be fashionable," answered Monica. "But an MTV Fashionista is a person who carries himself or herself with confidence while wearing either designer outfits or the usual pambahay."
"Confident but not conceited," was Love’s take on the MTV Fashionista.
Adrian said it’s the dude or damsel who influences people on what’s in and what’s out. While for Don, "It’s the visual voice of fashionable people of this generation."
For Jasler, it’s those who are original when it comes to ideas and identity.
"An MTV Fashionista is someone open to all influences, be it cultural, philosophical, musical or artistic," Dos responded. "The Fashionista transcends these influences and incorporates them into his or her own personality."
Bambi waxed philosophical and said that being an MTV Fashionista is all about "knowing how to be one with the music, even when modeling."
For Cecil, it’s all about exuding "effortless elegance."
On Nov. 12, we will all find out who among them deserves to embody that definition. Good luck to all of ‘em.
As for me, maybe if I get lucky in the cosmic Bingo I’ll get reincarnated in the next life not as a cockroach or a foot fungus but as an effortlessly elegant MTV Fashionista who’s hip to the twin muses of music and fashion. That way, I would be part of a slew of fashion shows and photo spreads, be famous for more than 15 minutes and won’t be the object of ridicule of my relatives, friends and officemates.
Plus, I won’t get to kill a single rat.