Woman of style

The crowd–and it was a crowd, SRO, spilling out into the courtyard–sang along as the quartet played the old Beatles favorite When I’m Sixty-four. The chapel at the Santuario de San Antonio was elegant in its understatement, stylish in its simplicity, exactly the way Miss Pinto would have wanted it. And it could not have been otherwise, for in death as in life, Araceli Pinto-Mansor–dear Eli–was surrounded by the love of family and friends and the great sense of style that characterized this remarkable woman. As head of Citem, the government’s export promotions agency, for more than a decade, Eli trumpeted to the world the genius of the Filipino and saw the Filipino designer lauded and applauded all over the world, from Milan to New York, from Tokyo to Paris, in showrooms and exhibit halls, in fine homes and hotels, in magazine features and trade publications, in competitions and trade shows. She was indefatigable in her efforts, exacting in her standards,sometimes near impossible in her demands, but always the best friend, fan and supporter one could hope to have.

The most significant result of her efforts is Movement 8, a brand now known in all the major design centers of the world. Composed of the most talented furniture and accessories designers in the country, Movement 8 was started by Eli and Budji Layug, himself a celebrated designer and artist, to establish Filipino design on the world stage. Its success in the few short years of its existence is testament to what the Filipino can achieve, and its continued existence and success–which Budji and his fellow designers have committed to sustaining–will be a fitting and lasting tribute to Eli.

It was through Eli that I came to know the geniuses behind Movement 8, many of whom I have had the privilege of featuring in the pages of STARweek. But before that, even before her life at Citem (which she joined in 1986), Eli was known to me as the mother of Nico Mansor, who played in the junior golf circuit with my niece and who is today a golf coach, a wonderful young man and most solicitous son to Eli and Ely (whom we called Ely-boy to differentiate between the spouses).

Remarkable as Eli was in her professional life, she was a fantastic friend, one with whom you could laugh till the tears flowed and your stomach hurt and with whom you wouldn’t mind waiting three hours in a little restaurant in Mossel, Germany while the trout was cooking ever so slowly. She always had interesting stories to share, for she was always curious about life and the world. How often she would call and proclaim excitedly, "I have a wonderful story for you!" and proceed to tell about a great environment project or an ingenious entrepreneur or a terrific barangay program. "You should write about this," she would urge–and inevitably we did, for indeed it usually turned out to be a good story.

She dressed with a distinctive sense of style, something that came to be known as "very Miss Pinto". And she was unarguably a great shopper, able to sniff out and unearth the best finds anywhere and everywhere in the world, often spotting trends even before things entered the regular fashionista’s radar screen. And she shopped not just for herself, for one of her favorite lines was, "Bilhin mo na yan–maganda yan, bagay yan sa ’yo!"

On the evening before she died, Ann Pamintuan of Gilded Expressions, Dodit Leaño of the DTI and I took our turn keeping her company at the ICU. Eli was no longer conscious, hooked up to a heart monitor and a couple of other machines, although she was breathing on her own. At one point Dodit said to her, "Miss Pinto, magpagaling ka na kasi samahan mo ako mag-shopping–sale eh." To our surprise, Eli’s heart rate jumped from 54 to 66, which gave us quite a scare because we thought we might have done something bad. But the medical staff on duty assured us that the optimal heart rate was between 60 and 100, so we were on the right track. As we talked about shopping at the Mindanao Trade Expo in Davao next month and other potential shopping adventures, Eli’s heart rate hovered above 60, even hitting 68 at one point. That’s the Eli we know and love, and who we will dearly miss.