across the colorado river

too many of us

too little to spread around

Buy a clutch

Clearly she's not as wealthy as she purports herself to be.

I was at a friend's birthday party.  My friend elected to throw the bash at her backyard, and perhaps compensated for the modest setting by hiring a caterer.  But since her house is in a gated subdivision, guests still dressed 2 stud earrings short of The Palms Casino.

I was lucky to have chosen to wear shoes--I mean, I did walk out of the house in slippers.  I thought to myself it was gonna be just like another impromptu drinking session our group was wont to having. Besides, the celebrant and I are neighbors.

Just when I was debating on whether I was going to keep to my diet or have another slice of chocolate cake, this Birkin 40 flashed before me. Who brings a Birkin to a house party?

Ok, so she wanted to boast of whatever.  Hey, woman with the big purse, can you spell noveau riche? Classy people don't bring Birkins to casual house parties.  And if they do, they'd bring a size 30 at the most.

Day bags are called such because they are.  Birkin 40s don't have a respectable place in an evening party.  If you were really as wealthy as your taste in bags pretends to be, you would have already afforded a size 28 Kelly.  What's in your bag anyway?  A birthday cake?  A change of outfit?

Prada has pretty clutches, bitch.

Yesterday's failed caprese-inspired canapés

I shall use plum tomatoes and fresh mozzarella cheese next time.

Flame-haired general

My parents invited friends from Marikina, my dad's hometown, over for Christmas dinner--a tradition almost 10 years old.  And these friends of theirs go way back, so I know all of them quite well.  Except for one of them.

"Hi, BJ, I'm Tita Marita.  We've met before," she said.
"Oh, I'm sure," I concurred.  Surely she saw me when I was still a baby.  Perhaps.

After the obligatory picture-taking, my parents' friends started standing up from the table to claim their belongings.  And then I saw what she was wearing, I just had to grab my camera.

The first thing I noticed about her was her geometric bob with crimson streaks.  But what urged me to grab the camera was her (low-hung) harem pants.  And those metallic epaulettes.  Although the neutrality of her grey shirt and white pants could have been the perfect canvas for a lighter-colored Motorcycle--perhaps the pink or the red one, to bring out her fiery hair color

For a woman of 60, she has a wicked fashion sensibility.  Most girls a third of her age don't even know what harem pants are.  And her flats just had to be animal prints.  As Momma Tyra would say, she's fierce!

Passion Store

While on the way to Tagaytay we passed by this gem of a store along Aguinaldo Highway in Silang, Cavite.

I learned from my mom that she had been visiting this same store for over 10 years.  It's been her perennial source of kapeng barako.

Aileen--attendant, cashier and storeowner--sells everything: from vintage toys, museum-worthy coffee machines, to (now-defunct) Cardinal ceramics and canned vegetable protein.  At first glance I thought the cans were also vintage; I guess the labels were just dusty.  (Expiry date was in 2012.)  Below is my favorite picture:

She also serves vegetarian cuisine, and of course kapeng barako.

How's the weather in Boston?

The letter from Harvard Business School finally arrived. I spent Sunday afternoon browsing through their residence halls. My dad even brought out his dusty album to show me where he stayed in that spring of 1981. I wish I could also have a view of the Charles River.