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Backstage Whispers | Philstar.com
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Sunday Lifestyle

Backstage Whispers

LOVE LUCY - LOVE LUCY by Lucy Torres-Gomez -
I have never modeled on the ramp before. And when I tell people this, I almost always get the same surprised reaction. Yes, I have done photo shoots, magazine covers and TV appearances so I guess that’s the reason why others naturally assume I had dabbled in ramp modeling at some point.

Truth is, I’m a very shy person. Sociable, yes, but I definitely am not one inclined to perform. I always tell Richard that some people (himself obviously included) are born to be in the spotlight while others are meant to just watch from the sidelines and applaud. I belong to the latter.

Large crowds don’t frighten me but being in the forefront of a large crowd will be just about enough to make me break into a cold sweat and clam up. So you can just imagine what went through my mind when I first heard that Bench would be coming up with a major denim and underwear fashion show. Tito Douglas (Quijano) had told me and Richard about the concept of the show (to be held at Araneta Coliseum, no less) how mythical it would be and it did sound wonderful. I was getting all excited because at that point I somehow had the impression it would be an all-guy show and it really would be fun to see some of them dressed up in Greek mythological characters. Then Tito Dougs started discussing the girls’ part and it suddenly dawned on me that I too would be part of the show. Wow. Scary. That meant being in front of a large crowd. On impulse I wanted to say there was no way I could do it. I would be too nervous to walk – I’d probably be too nervous to even crawl. And heaven forbid – what if I tripped and fell?

Richard and I were scheduled to leave for a short trip on about the same date and we could have eased our way out. Well, even without that trip, Richard could have joined and I could have just told Ben Chan the truth. And he would have understood. But Richard and I talked about it. We felt that this being a major Bench undertaking and both of us belonging to its roster of image models, it is but natural that we were part of the show. More than that, our full support was the least we could do for Ben and our whole Bench family who, through the years, have been nothing short of wonderful both in friendship and in businesss. But that’s another story.

Anyway, it was a no-brainer for me and I knew that I was in. For better or worse. I had to conquer my fear to do much more than just walk up and down the ramp a couple of times or so. How complicated could that get? It helped a lot that two weeks prior, Bench held the Overhauled show in Cebu and I saw it as a chance to feel my way through the whole ramp-modeling thing. Jackie Aquino, who directed the show, was a jewel. He guided me through the walk-pose-establish routine and I embraced that experience as a sort of test-run of what was to come in Araneta.

Naturally, before any show there was a fitting. In this case, it was held at the Bench main office in Pasay. While waiting for my turn, I remember walking in a roomful of about 100 models, mostly men, wearing white, black and red underwear listening to instructions from director Ariel Lozada, and a whole panel of creative people. I had never seen so many buffed bodies, in all shapes and sizes, all at one time.

My 21-month-old daughter Juliana was with me and she started pointing at some models and in between mouthfuls of potato chips and cheese pimiento sandwich said, "Friend take a bath." Apparently some models were smiling at her – every new person she meets who smiles at her is a "friend" and in her mind she associates wearing only undies to "taking a bath." So there.

Before long I was called to fit my gown. All I knew was that it would be, like I mentioned earlier, mythical in theme and that I would don two outfits – one in a white and one in red. They brought in the white one first. I slipped into a gauzy-looking creation that seemed promising. It was empire-cut with spaghetti straps and a tattered, layered bodice that is in vogue now. Lined up behind me were the sparkly accessories ranging from tiny to huge and while they were tugging and pinning the dress I had fun figuring out which of those most probably belonged to my outfit. Before long, the dresser was slipping something semi-cylindrical and stiff over my head, resting it under my chin and anchoring it on my shoulders.

And there the promise ended. At the very least I looked like a human lampshade. And with my head peeping out of the thing, I looked like I was about to be guillotined. For what crime I had no idea. I started giggling because I looked too funny. But that wasn’t it yet. To top off my look they put on a crown that looked like the one Lady Liberty wears in New York but this one had BENCH spelled on each of its five spokes. I saw the faces of Tito Dougs and Ben fall. I couldn’t make out the face of Michael Salientes. All Tito Dougs could say was, "It’s ridiculous" and Ben kept on saying, "Is that it?" and "That cannot be it." The dresser explained that it was only half the outfit, that there would be thousands of pearls adorning the bodice and that it would figure significantly in the show because it was meant to create some sort of drama.

The idea was for the bottom half of the gown to be totally covered with pearls strategically stranded in such a way that with one tug every single piece falls off and scatters onstage. White noise it was supposed to be. But in my mind, pearls or no pearls I was still a lampshade. Personally I would not wear that, especially this being a major fashion event and my very first one at that but had they insisted that I go ahead for some segment of the show and if that outfit was needed to contribute to a total look then I really wouldn’t mind wearing it. But I could already almost read the critics’ review and it wasn’t something I was very confident about. Luckily everyone kinda agreed that I would not do justice to the creation which in all fairness did not fall in the category of ugly – very high fashion maybe but definitely not ugly. And I say that in all honesty because it was then assigned to Kuku Trinidad, who did not look bad in it at all. (I love the way she carries herself on the ramp, by the way, she seems weightless.)

That very same night over dinner at El Cirkulo, Ben made a call to Joe Salazar who was then at a wedding. The day after, I found out that Joe had graciously agreed to take on the task of creating a white gown for me to wear. That, despite the fact that it was only two days before the big day. I was thankful. More than that, I was confident that in Joe’s masterful hands, nothing could possibly go wrong. And I was right.

I was able to fit the finished creation the day before the show, during our rehearsals. Amazingly, the bodice was made of two-inch strips of garter, the same kind that was used as the backdrop for the stage, and the full skirt that looked as fluffy as cotton candy was made of French polyester tulle. It was a perfect fit, no adjustments needed – maybe except for the hemline which was a tad too long. The red gown likewise turned out beautiful.

The inner layer, created by Patrice Ramos-Diaz, was made of a slinky fabric that hugged the body just right. It still needed to be brought back to her shop for embellishment but I was happy enough that it fit well. The outer layer was made of chiffon, still in red, and was actually handsewn by another talented person, Puy Quiñones. Whoever was not needed yet onstage had to be backstage for the final fitting of accessories. A couple of rooms at the coliseum were virtually turned into dress shops and it was interesting to see the otherwise normal-looking underclothes all dolled up with sequins, beads, feathers – all these by hand. We wrapped up shortly before midnight and were all required to be there before lunch the following day.

June 16 was a bright day – weather was nice, the sun was up. By the time Richard and I got to Araneta it was already buzzing with activity. The models rehearsing were 90 percent complete, some of them half made-up already, some with hair rolled up in huge Velcro rollers. Ariel called for a final rehearsal at around 3 p.m. which we never got to finish because by 4 p.m. we were informed that the gates were open. The thing was we never even got to rehearse the finale! Not the day before and certainly not that day. But we had no choice. There already was outside a long queue of people raring to enter the coliseum.

I shared a dressing room with Assunta de Rossi, Amanda Griffin, Aubrey Miles, Lana Asanin and Aya Medel. Right by our room was the dressing room of the male celebrities – Richard Gomez, Jomari Yllana, Diether Ocampo, Antonio Aquintana, Marc Nelson, Wendell Ramos, Robby Mananquil, the three Johns (Hall, Estrada and Pratts), Mickey Randall, AJ Eigenmann, Richard Gutierrez and Railey Valeroso. Although our clothes and accessories were in our dressing room, all our makeup had to be done in another room where Patrick Rosas and his team were. To get to him, one would have to walk past the throng of male models, all 150+ of them, not yet in their showclothes but bare-chested all the same. Apparently this was the dressing room of the male models.

Offhand I must admit that men are just as vain, if not more, than women. There were all sorts of things going on, men sizing up themselves in front of the huge mirrors lined up against the wall (alternating between flexing their muscles, analyzing the cuts in their abs, and looking for their best angle). In between these, you’d most often hear requests to Patrick and his team for more oil or more glitter on their bodies. At one corner, some were eating or just lounging, some doing crunches, others push-ups. I overheard some of them complain about how they shouldn’t have eaten too much that day or how they shouldn’t have eaten at all. To this another model replied, "It’s all in the mind. Act ripped and you’ll look ripped."

I didn’t get to peek in the female models’ dressing room so I won’t have much to say about what actually went on in there except that I was amazed at how fit they all were, including those who are married with kids. One of them even had a five-month-old baby and her tummy was as flat as a sheet!

Of course, Wilma Doesnt, who was happily infanticipating, was bubbly and lively as ever. As always, she was never without a bag tucked under her armpit but this time, instead of the usual kikay stuff, she also had all sorts of edible goodies ranging from candies to bayabas to pan de sal. In a tiny bag, take note. In the spirit of fun she would pick on the young models, Richard Gutierrez (think Annabelle Rama and Eddie Gutierrez) being one of her favorites. She would unceremoniously sit on his lap, wrap her arms around his shoulders and say, "Hi Papa, did you miss me?" or "How old are you, Papa? You’re so cute." The poor boy, dazed and terrified, was too shocked and shy to even speak. Everyone else would burst out laughing. Sometimes she would set her sights on John Hall and tell everyone present, loud enough for him to hear, "Si John talaga ang tatay ng anak ko. Swear. Inamin na niya."

Among all the female models, Lana Asanin seemed like the one least nervous, if at all. In fact, while waiting for the show to begin she was the one keeping things lively in our dressing room, regaling us with past modeling experiences here and abroad. Amanda Griffin was cool – she was just seated and I never would have thought she was nervous too until she told me. She said she would take hosting anytime over ramp modeling.

Pretty soon, stylist Michael Salientes breezed in to check on us, asked us how we were and upon realizing we were actually nervous, said, "We do have champagne, you know." Amanda and I couldn’t have been happier. We had about two glasses each, just enough to take out the cold sweat. The funny thing was we had six to eight manangs in the room tasked to help dress us up who before long were red in the face and giggling like teenagers. Turned out they had a little bit too much champagne to drink, too. Assunta, Aubrey and Aya were in one cluster, smoking occasionally – quiet too but upon a manang’s inquiry all admitted that they, too were nervous.

By then we were all dressed in our first outfits (except for the headpieces) and Araneta was packed the way it probably is during the PBA championships. In the room beside ours, the male celebrities were doing last-minute push-ups and crunches. They even had a whole set of dumbbells at their disposal. Diether knocked at our room at some point with three boxes of pizza courtesy of Pizza Hut, which most everyone happily devoured. Those who were modeling underwear begged off, understandably so because a full tummy would not look appealing on stage. It didn’t matter that I ate two whole slices because I was fully clothed and the only part of my body I was baring were my shoulders.

Soon the show started and it was obvious that it did so with a bang because we could hear the screams of people in the audience. Assunta’s black headpiece was a force to contend with. Aside from being huge it was a bit on the heavy side but she carried it with grace. And she looked beautiful in it. Whatever discomfort I could read on her face she masked and wiped off as soon as she was on. She could have passed off as Miss Venezuela or Miss Columbia in a Miss Universe contest. Lana’s appearances were spaced closely, so much so that she would have to rush back to the dressing room immediately after she walked onstage. At one point she was already even half out of her clothes the moment she set foot in the room. Aya, after her first appearance, would occasionally let out a scream of obvious relief. Assunta, after her first walk would also let out a gleeful scream. "Successful! ‘Di nahulog ang headpiece ko!"

I found the black outfit most flattering on Richard. I especially loved the way the huge wings looked on him and despite the many buffed male bodies I saw that night, I still think my husband was the sexiest, hands down. But I guess coming from me that’s a given. I only had three appearances during the show (two in white and one in red), so I was the one who spent the most time in the dressing room. When most of the other models were out, Aya’s middle-aged gay makeup artist would do the model-walk sending all present into fits of laughter. He/she would later say that Bench has yet to discover that he/she deserved to be in the underwear show more than anyone else.

Through all this, I was still as nervous as ever. I would walk around in my complete outfit – gown, crown, and all – carefully taking each step to see if there was any chance I would trip on it. It was still too long despite the previous adjustments made so we would just occasionally snip off a part of the hem every so often. The problem was, maybe out of sheer paranoia, the nearer the time was for me to get up onstage, the more I found fault with the poor gown‘s hem. Stephen (from Bench) and Efren (an accessory designer) burst out laughing when they saw me frantically cutting off another piece just before I was about to step out. Kuku opened the white portion of the show and Michael kept on reminding all of us to be extra careful when walking onstage especially after Kuku’s appearance because by then, if all went as planned, the pearls would be scattered all over. Although I was thankful she was wearing the gown I also felt sorry for her because she had to put up with about 70 pounds of pearl baubles. I was debating whether I should walk barefoot (just to ensure I don’t slip) or in heels. Both Lana and Michael told me it was always better with heels because the height would make your hips swing more naturally. I was on the verge of unstrapping my silver stilettos when I was called to be on standby. Too late, chocolate. It was my turn. By that time I realized that the pearls did not come off thus there was no obstruction onstage. If I did slip it would be solely out of clumsiness.

As I walked, I heard nothing except the music and saw nothing except the EXIT sign. I didn’t want to make any eye contact with anyone, for the first walk at least, because I just knew that the sight of any human face would further unnerve me. The ramp was so long it felt like forever. Ariel, during the rehearsals, instructed me to "pose" and "establish" at specific points and what got me through the three instances I had to do that was the fact that everytime, I would just imagine that everyone in the audience was stark naked and I was the only one clothed so I had the advantage. Somehow that made me feel better. Later on people told me that I looked composed. Little did they know that beneath that supposed composure was a nervous heartbeat, a pair of cold hands, wobbly knees, and even colder feet.

As for the finale, we just executed it as Ariel instructed us to. Considering that we weren’t able to rehearse it, it came off pretty well. No one noticed that Richard and Jomari were the ones leading us through some semblance of order – when we should bow, when we should walk again, where we should wait until the lights went off. It was a show well-applauded and well-received. It was light and fun, even backstage. Credit should go to everyone behind the show – the whole Bench team, Ariel, Michael, Tito Dougs and countless others. Raymond Isaac documented the show in photographs – from start to finish – and I’m pretty sure he has his own stories to tell. There were some critics but that’s the way things are, that’s the way things will always be.

Through it all, people were one in saying that it would take a company like Bench to take on a project that size and actually succeed in pulling it off. Congratulations, Bench! It is wonderful to be part of your family.

ASSUNTA

BENCH

MODELS

ONE

RICHARD

ROOM

SHOW

TITO

WALK

WAY

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