Feeling for a day

Oh, wow, is it the time of the year to feel sosi again? That was my initial reaction when I woke up one morning last week and saw on the desk of my study the Bvlgari invitation to the launch of the new Assioma watches in Greenbelt last Friday, Nov. 25.

In July of 2004, I also got invited to the launch of Bvlgari’s new jewelry line at the Shangri-La Makati and I felt really sosi especially when they served a 10-course dinner that is so different from what we eat at home. (Where I live, you can count everything we eat from breakfast, lunch, snacks and all the way to dinner and that still wouldn’t add up to 10 courses.)

Sometime this year, I also remember getting invited to another Bvlgari affair, but I had to decline that because of another commitment and the fact that – in this world – you shouldn’t make yourself too available because that will make you less irresistible. (Social climbers – take note!)

However, I felt I had to attend last Friday’s Bvlgari affair for fear that they would just drop me off completely from the Bvlgari list if I continued playing hard to get and in the process lose my one and only link to high society. (In this life, you should also know how to play your cards right.)

And then I also had to be there becuse of Bessie Badilla, who flew over the other week to attend her sister’s wedding. We actually saw each other at the wedding and a few days later over dinner at the fabulous home of art patron/book publisher Marlene Aguilar, but we kept forgetting one important business between the two of us: Swap pasalubong.

After we’ve agreed to meet at the Bvlgari launch to exchange pasalubong there (if only Bvlgari country manager Mario Katigbak knew what Bessie and I were up to, he would have had us two banned from the event), I finally confirmed my attendance by calling the members under the RSVP indicated at the lower right corner of the invitaton card.

Since the affair was at 6 p.m. and was just cocktails (not a 10-course dinner to my disappointment), I thought I could stil run to the AFP Theater after that to watch Miguel Castro in the musical St. Louis Loves Dem Filipinos upon the invitation of Bibsy Carballo. That was the plan, except that it never happened.

On the day of the Bvlari affair, my schedule got all messed up because of EDSA traffic – the worst in months. I remember preparing early for this event.

By 5 p.m., I had taken a shower and put on a shirt that I only wear to Startalk anniversary shows. As a fitting finale, I put out my only bottle of Bvlgari scent, which I was only able to afford because I brought it using a Duty-Free gift certificate that was actually my payment for hosting a function at the Manila Hotel last year (Yes, I accept gift certificates as payment for hosting services – even cans of pork and beans if the organizer has nothing else to offer). With a good aim, I pressed the nozzle of the Bvlgari bottle and sprayed myself with enough scent to musk the nauseating smell of my next-door neighbor’s early dinner of paksiw na ayungin.

At around 5:15, I had hopped into my car and began my voyage to Makati. When I got to the corner of EDSA-Annapolis, I realized that I was going to go through another round of insufferable traffic and I couldn’t understand why, except for the fact that it was a Friday night.

I began to think of possible occasions and thought for a while that there could be a pre-Andres Bonifacio Day celebration somewhere. But why didn’t he end up as our national hero if he could gather a crowd this big to attend an affair in his honor? I wondered in my head.

It was only much later when I realized that was the start of the long weekend leading to Bonifacio Day. I’m sorry, but for someone like me who doesn’t have regular working hours/days, I’m never aware of holidays.

So there I was in my lane stewing in traffic – probably the only one not bound for the province – wondering if the Bvlgari crowd was already hankering for my presence (I bet they were not). And then I began to panic when the vehicle in front of me began to emit thick black smoke from its muffler and it went right through the air-con vents of my car. I began to sniff myself – afraid that I would end up smelling like smoked ayungin, but the Bvlgari scent mercifully prevailed to my relief.

At way past 7 – after spending almost two hours on the road – I finally reached my destination. I missed the show that featured the Assioma watches, but I still saw later some of the models looking their best after having been dolled up by Toni & Guy Essensuals.

The first thing I did when I reached the venue was to look for Bessie. It wasn’t all that difficult to spot her since she towers above most everyone else with her enviable height. And yes, she was the only one in the crowd carrying a paper bag – the one that contained her pasalubong for me (and also for Sharon Cuneta).

We truly matched each other because with me was also a paper bag that contained my pasalubong for her – sampaloc candies (the Cadiz brand), which I had sourced out in Quezon. Trust Bessie and I to dignify any affair no matter how formal and it is still a big puzzle to me why people still invite us to their functions. (I’d like to think that it’s because we’re lovable.)

Since it was a cocktails affair, what we should have done was mingle, except that with the load we were carrying, we could hardly itinerant, I still managed to meet a lot of people. There was, for instance, former top mannequin Menchu Menchaca-Soriano (the one with the nice big brown eyes) who has maintained her good looks and figure. Later, I bumped into (he actually bumped into me because I wasn’t moving from my place, remember?) Leo Valdez and some very nice people from the Ace-Saatchi ad agency. From afar, I also spotted Anton San Diego, Maurice Arcache, Robby Mananquil and Gigi Mabanta, Bessie’s classmate whom I met in the house of yet another schoolmate of theirs, Diane Gonzalez. Of course, there was PR person Macy Pineda, who invited me to that Bvlgari gathering. (She must have banged her head against the glass wall of the Bvlgari store after seeing Bessie and I swap pasalubong right there at her formal affair.)

At around 8, Bessie and Menchu said goodbye to me because they were still watching an Auggie Cordero fashion show at Rockwell. They asked me if I’d care to join them, but I said no because the last time I watched a fashion show (Ben Farrales’ retrospective two years ago) I was with Bessie’s brother Sonny, sisters Marites and Bing and brother-in-law Ronnie Magsanoc and I thought we were going to get thrown out of Makati Shangri-La for treating the affair like a basketball game at the Cuneta Astrodome. (We were hooting and cheering every time Bessie would come out on stage.) No, thank you – I’ve already overshot my quota for scandalous behavior that evening.

After Bessie and Menchu left, I realized I got so thirsty from all that talking that I hailed every waiter who had drinks on his tray. Since I wanted to try everything (which I shouldn’t have done), I mixed Moet et Chandon champagne with white wine (provided by Future Trade International, Inc.).

After a while, a group of girls in gold egged me on to try Johnny Walker Gold, which turned out to be soothing and smooth down the throat. It was perfect with chocolate bits that went with the drinks.

Having had my fill of drinks, I thought I should take off. Actually, you shouldn’t stay too long in these affairs – otherwise people would think you’re not busy and that’s bad for your corporate image.

Bad decision. I should have stayed on and helped out with the dishes or cleaned the store. (I would have willingly wiped each piece of those oh-so-elegant Assioma watches.) Had I stayed on in that party, I could have done something more productive with my time – instead of sitting there idly in traffic for another two hours. This was late in the evening and vehicles still hardly moved in EDSA.

When I got home – except for the Bvlgari scent on my shirt – there was hardly a semblance, hint or trace of the fact that I’ve been to a grand sosyalan. It was then that I realized I spent a lot more time on the road than in the actual party. By then, I didn’t want to be sosi anymore – especially after I found out that even people in high society also get stuck in traffic.

Perhaps I should inch my way next time toward people in politics. Maybe they’ll give me a wang-wang.