When I grow up

I’m turning 40 next year. The bigFour-O. People are still surprised when they hear my age. They say I look young but I know I’m getting old. I’ve been very conscious of the changes in my body and the way I dress.

I have less than 10 white hairs on my head. Maybe six. I pluck them out whenever I see them, so it’s not true, that Chinese belief that white hairs will grow aplenty if you pull them out.

It’s funny when I see my old classmates – we sort of check each other out: who looks good, who looks old, who’s well-preserved and who’s gained weight.

Recently I was invited by Procter & Gamble’s Olay team to try out a new product and this skin-reading machine from Japan.

You stick your face into this lighted box thingy that looks like a space-age dollhouse.

It takes a picture that goes into a computer and reads your skin’s age.

I was a bit apprehensive about trying it, but what the hell, I did it.

It turns out I have the skin of a 29-year-old. I have almost no crow’s feet, no wrinkles, although my pores could improve, and my smile lines are looking pronounced these days.

A lot of my friends have expressed interest in having their skin age-tested. I was told that P&G plans to set up the machine at SM Watsons in Makati, so watch out for that.

The product, called Olay Total Effects, an anti-aging moisturizer with SPF, should be out on the market mid-September.

Wardrobe Change

Fashion has always been a big part of my life. I’ve been thinking about how my style has evolved and wondering what I will wear when I grow up.

When I was younger it was all about standing out and making a statement. Now it’s about comfort and hiding problem areas.

The first trend I ever followed was in 6th grade when I dressed like Mork from Ork (Robin Williams) with the glitter tees and rainbow suspenders.

My first designer dress was purchased in Grade 7 from Cinderella and cost me a small fortune. It was Santiago de Manila.

In high school (1981-1984) I wore Azabache from SM and Birds from Hong Kong, followed by a trend called Metallic Gigolo that was also a dance craze. My brother used to call me Miles, as in Miles and the Pacesetters (kill him now). By the time I graduated I had discovered the Japanese geniuses called Comme and Yohji.

College (1985) was all about New Wave and Jean-Paul Gaultier when he was new and exciting, Thai designers like Soda and Theatre, and platform shoes bought in Quiapo.

I also discovered the tailor Christopher Nemeth on a trip to Japan.

I hid my skinny legs every day under long skirts and never wore pants.

Gee, I wish I had those legs now.

In New York (1991-1995) I did the whole streetwear/rave/Hello Kitty thing with furry hats and lights on my shoes. Xuly Bët and Margiela were my uniform.

When I came back it was the Fruitsy stage and the Japanese schoolgirl look. And so on…

So after going through all of that, things changed when I became a mother. Although my weight returned to usual, the hips were not quite the same and the thighs had filled up. After two Caesareans my waistline could no longer accommodate tight things.

I am now loving baggy clothes, which my husband cannot understand. No more cartoon characters and cute stuff for me. No more loud colors.

Recently, the platforms had to go and I switched to flats and trainers.

But now the platforms are back again, so what the hell.

Muji, the generic Japanese label, is now my uniform. Sometimes I dress like a grandma with shawl-looking things. Mary Kate Olsen is my idol.

I now wonder how my style will evolve when I get into my forties, fifties, sixties. Will I still wear my Vans? Will I wear bucket hats and baggy pants?

At a fashion event last year I spotted the chicest woman in the room. It was the author Virgina Moreno, whose work we studied in school. She wore a pearl-white, pleated satin dress with huge tortoise- shell glasses, and carried a little metal lunch box.

I thought, it must’ve been interesting growing up with a brother like Pitoy Moreno.

Sometimes I get to hang out with Gilda Cordero-Fernando, whose work we also studied in school and who is one of the coolest dressers I know. Whenever I see her she’s always wearing something special, from designers like Patty Eustaquio to Steve de Leon.

Like Gilda, I like to hang out with younger people, as well as older.

Maybe I can look as good as her when I grow up.

* * *

When I had my two sons my friend Michael lamented, "Walang magmamana ng mga damit!" (No one will inherit the clothes!)

That is, unless my boys marry chic girls who will pass through the eye of the needle. Because in the case of this monster-in-law, the devil wears Comme des Garçons.

And if they settle for mainstream wives, I’ll always have my younger sister who loves my stuff. At 14 and 39, she and I are the same size and we share a couple of Comme des Garçons.

The first time I took her to a CDG store in Singapore she almost had a heart attack. Since everything was expensive, we decided to share the cost of a skirt, and a year later, a pair of pants.

In the meantime I’ll be turning Four-O next year and I’m not afraid.

Oprah says 30 is when you get a brain, and 40 is when you find out who you are.

And boy, am I having this huge New Wave party.