Model behavior
MANILA, Philippines - The airport was uncharacteristically silent. It might have been because it wasn‘t fully operational yet at 7 a.m., but everything about that piece of land was undoubtedly therapeutic. The shifting of weights, the cadences of personnel at the check-in counter, and the precision of the system that ensures we get from one place to another kind of prompts you to be lucid on an early Friday morning. No one can disrupt the order.
Except when three tall girls walk in, svelte, lethargic, yet still in full pensive and model-esque glory — it would be pretty difficult to announce a cease-fire. They were early, and were slouched in their seats at the boarding gate. The genetic intervention was too much here, I thought. But then came another surprise — as if on cue by a phantom fashion director, two of Manila’s “it” girls walked in, cheerful and clearly anticipating the ease of the island. The numbers stopped at five girls, but it was enough to give anyone’s self-esteem a bit of a beating.
“I want to go horseback riding!” said Katarina, and the trademark deadpan expression on her face soon left after perusing the hotel’s brochure. This was how I met her, slightly adjusting the level of her gaze (obviously lower) to meet mine. This was how I met all of them, actually. They were engaged, but it soon sank in that they’d have to take down the altitude a few notches to actually be face to face.
Fine, Fresh and Fierce
Coastal cruising: Amanda, Katarina and Luna riding the beach’s transportation of choice, the ATV.A few hours later, lodging assignments had been settled, and the shoot could begin. Amanda, Luna, and Katarina were all from the other side of the world and didn’t know much Tagalog (save for a few pedestrian phrases), but it didn’t matter so much. They touched down on the glorified sands of Boracay in their Brazilea flip-flops, and then — for a lack of a better word — started to work it. Pulling a kayak to the shore repeatedly, riding ATVs and throwing beach balls at each other sounds more like a local interpretation of Katy Perry’s California Gurls (minus Snoop Dogg and the sex on the beach), but to the girls, it was just another day at work.
After evoking personalities that matched their vibrant and playful footwear, they reverted to being young up-and-comings who look forward to a KitKat break once the shutter takes a breather. And in the midst of avoiding the sting of the sand and the sun, I was reminded that while I don’t qualify for the same height bracket as theirs, I do share the age — and I may not have been to Mexico, but I’d have to agree that tacos and tequila qualify as one of its best exports; they also admit that being a Victoria’s Secret model isn’t the default goal (it’s a clear impossibility for me, obviously), just because of their blessed heritage. They have separate ambitions — of being an equestrienne, or even a gymnast that’s good enough to join the Cirque du Soleil company — that they could easily pursue outside of their day jobs.
Boracay is just another pit stop in their emerging globetrotting careers, but it’s those moments in-between and prior to the glamour and non-glamour that reemphasize the parallels (and possible crossovers) between our lives and theirs. We may not be filling up our passports with stamps and gracing editorials and print ads, but we’re also not threatened by heat strokes, migraines, and early call times — not on a regular basis, at least.
Once the lenses resume focus on the girls though, their stances change and their eyes begin to squint — to avoid the glare of the sun, yes, but also, to signal that they are ready: ready for the rapid-fire clicks that are about to come at them, and they are not going down without a fight. And just like that, the order has been restored.
