Panic on the streets of Makati

Why did I start Panic? Because it says everything about my life, my beliefs, and, most of all, my fashion. I love the fashion of rock music, because it’s as much about your attitude as your clothing.

I was different growing up. When everyone around me was reaching for Mariah Carey, I loved the Beatles. And I never liked the idea of baggy jeans and jerseys. I was a timid teenager and far too shy to let people know what I really thought about the fads of music and fashion. I was hoping something might break me out of that shell. So I set off to get my degree in London, and it was there that I found something that gave me a voice.

On a random London night out, my friends coincidentally picked Trash, a nightclub. We entered the club and everyone looked like they had leaped off a record sleeve. Girls were in tights and leather dresses, guys were in drainpipe jeans, skinny ties and blazers. Everyone was stylish and different. And there I was in jeans and a polo shirt anticipating the first blonde girl I saw to tell me to sod off because I was uncool. I was used to clubs blasting loud dance rubbish I didn’t get, but this DJ played rock, punk, anything at all. The message was multi-culturalism and freedom of expression. After I danced like a maniac to Rock the Casbah, I saw a Madonna look-alike next to me and screamed for her to tell me how to look like a rock star. She forced a smile and said, "Like trousers like brain."

I had no clue what she meant. All I could see was the thick black eyeliner, red lipstick, and platinum blonde hair. I wanted to be like the Trash kids, cool for doing their own thing. But I still wasn‘t sure what my thing was. I thought of what she said and made my way to the nearest record store the next day.

I didn‘t know much about real punk rock due to lack of exposure in the Philippines. But that day, every time I pulled out a record sleeve and saw the likes of Patti Smith, Chryssie Hynde and Kate Bush, I wanted to look like them. They weren‘t dainty and helpless like Mariah Carey, but unique, intelligent, and non-manufactured. I immediately idolized the female punk rockers. Upon first glance of Blondie‘s Parallel Lines with Debbie Harry in the white dress I wanted to be that kind of intelligent vamp, gorgeous but smart and intimidating. I loved Siouxsie Soux for liberating herself from the normal idea of beauty and creating Goth by portraying beauty as she saw it, with the dark makeup and black leather. These women had the clothes but they also had attitude, and it showed that they spoke for themselves. I bought a red dress and tried it on with matching lipstick and black eyeliner and I knew it was my look. I was an indie punk rock vamp.

London was such an exciting city to be in. My neighbors Pete and Carl were in a band called The Libertines, leaders of a cultural movement. They were trendsetters. First trilbies, and then Fred Perry shirts, skinny jeans and the signature red military coats with gold buttons. The city‘s young designers adopted anything vintage with a modern twist. Music truly affected fashion and whatever the biggest band wore became the trend; the style you adapted reflected the music you listened to. You could tell what a person was into, be it indie or hip-hop, by the clothes they wore. Somewhere in between vintage pumps, gigs and nights out, I finished my degree and was faced with the predicament of leaving London and the scene I had come to love.

Not ready to face Manila, I decided to go to San Francisco first to see my family and formulate a plan. I was stumped and continued wandering around Haight Ashbury when fate literally stepped in. I noticed a pair of orange shoes walking up the road. I looked up and was pleased to see a friendly face in Benjo Marquez, whom I hadn‘t seen in about four years. After chatting about music and clothing we realized we would be back in Manila together and discussed the idea of starting our own version of Trash. For laughs, we agreed to do it and celebrated with a dance at an indie concert. But even after dancing to the Cribs and the Kaiser Chiefs, I was thinking of not just one night, but maybe a continuous gig, with a bunch of well-dressed kids jumping around to Rock the Casbah as I once did.

Now, two months later, I am pleased to say we are opening Panic. Manila has surpassed my expectations with stores opening all over the place, selling the things I once went to buy at vintage shops. I have seen people so individually stylish they make some of my indie garb look normal. Local designers are also taking risks and are working with the templates of punk, indie, and retro fashion. Local bands are musically and culturally as superb as what I have seen in Britain. Bands like The Bitter Pill and Chicosci are bringing us a post-punk indie flavor, Oranges and Lemons have done Britpop complete with mop-top hair, while indie and Bootleg DJ-ing are spreading. My first night out in Manila DJ‘s Club (MDC) Makati was almost on par to being at Trash for the first time. Seeing that many cool and empowered Filipinos was like coming full circle.

So to bring my own flavor to the mix, I offer Panic on Tuesdays, 10 p.m. onwards, at Manila DJ‘s Club in Fort. For those of you merry enough to pose a question, just look for me doing my best Debbie Harry pout and smoking a cigarette in red lipstick and black eyeliner somewhere in the room.