MANILA, Philippines - The MOA Arena was transformed into a cavernous elegant dinner hall with a huge wraparound stage, while Mabolo floral centerpieces and gauzy white curtains that blocked off the bleachers removed the “sting” from the venue’s mosh-pit provenance. While guests dined on river prawns and Angus spare ribs, the British boy band Blake serenaded us with U2 songs. It was a lavish affair held in honor of designer Lesley Mobo, sponsored by Manny Pangilingan and Cignal, and organized by Kaye Tinga on behalf of the Lightomorrow Project and Save the Children Foundation.
The final act of Philippine Fashion Week seemed like a separate event altogether, we were in a surround-sense environment of unearthly British fashion — by way of an Aklanon — and runway music that sounded like it was mixed by a ghost (credit goes to show director Ariel Lozada), the pre-Halloween mood set by a hypnotic, epic, effects-laden video triptych created by Adrian Calumpang and Steve Tirona. Dead flowers, butterflies, digital wreckage, mirrored portals, and a naked and glorious Manuela Basilio twisting like a strand of DNA. I suspect the short’s directors (my good friends) were high on Enter the Void when they made the film. When Manuela stepped out in person, she was a ghostly vision in the first white lace dress of the collection. (These ghost references point to the fact that Lesley Mobo will head the revamp of British label Ghost, which peaked in the ‘90s with its wispy layered dresses.)
White lace gowns floating on models with almost makeup-less faces (a refreshing change helmed by Patrick Rosas) crossed the runway like Catherines roaming heather cliffs. It was a springtime of sorts, with vestal virgin white and Victorian lace, Broderie Anglaise and a ton of tulle, nightgowns and wedding gowns and bohemian frockery. Black versions too, gothic counterpoints with sequins and studded baseball caps. On the flipside, adding structure and weight to all the romance were boxy coats in cobalt, gray and charcoal, embellished with sparkly things on the lapels and pockets. The aesthetic was vintage, but the execution was modern and precise, without being too precious or overly wrought, i.e. it’s completely wearable –– this is a designer who cut his teeth in Central St. Martens, became head designer at Jasmine de Milo, and collaborated with Diesel, among others, while also developing his eponymous label. As Bea Ledesma said, the guy is legit. Among a sea of self-styled couturiers whose greatest skill is ripping off the runways, Mobo stands out as someone who has worked really hard making a name for himself, in the highly competitive, hyper-trendy market of the UK no less.
Attending Fashion Week twice a year can admittedly be a painful experience for fashion writers and editors, but the Lesley Mobo show had a tasteful amount of theatrics and technical artistry which complemented, not overshadowed, a fully cohesive collection that didn’t feel repetitive despite the sheer number of sheer outfits. Presenting to his own countrymen, in front of his own family, in a beautiful and charitable gala, was an inspired coup for Fashion Week. Creativity above all is celebrated once again.