By:Shanice Dimple Buno

There is a woman who has a dream to be a fashion designer, she is chasing her dream and pursuing her studies in the course of Fine Arts. She is working until evening and studing in morning.

She has cosmetics line and also a thrifting store that provides her needs. This woman has a great fighting spirit and grateful heart. Even though many people criticize her business.
She said that “I will not keep quiet when I see waste. You waste and brag and gloat and criticize? Don’t do it in my presence; I will empty a room faster than a skunk.
It doesn’t make for easy relationships—the way I live. Shopping in malls and department stores gives me the screaming willies. In the beginning I accepted that I also had to allow the giver the gift of giving. That’s fine with me…once. If the giver will not hear my distress or accept my reasoning at receiving what I do not want or need, then the giver needs to be explicitly informed. Probably the harshest thing I have ever done after thanking someone for the so-many-eth gift after the so-many-eth chiding, was to in their presence put it straight into a bag and take it directly to a thrift store. They got the message.
I enjoy thrift stores; I like the people I meet there—those giving and those receiving. They have become a special breed, these the ordinary people, and I appreciate them all. I like the whole idea of thrift stores probably because my life is a thrift store. I take other people’s throw-aways—their discards, their beings: children, clothes, animals, people, furniture, anything; and I try to fix them, put them back together so they can be part of life again—their own, mine or someone else’s. I may not always be acceptably suitable or the height of fashion, but I am content. Rather than doing to make, I make do. I will always have everything I could ever possibly need, because others throw things away.

I was 12 years old when I fell in love with girls’ clothes. We are 5 siblings, only 1 boy and he is
the eldest, 4 girls and I am the third. I still remember when we were little how much we were
pampered. Everything we want is always given to us. I used to think it was hard to have a lot of
sisters because of envy of the things she had and you didn’t. So what our parents do is just buy
us each other so we don’t get jealous. Everything must be there for no fight and chaos to happen.
I remember one day, my sister was in high school and since she was a teenager, she wanted
something different when it came to clothes. Even bags and shoes are changing. Unlike us, who
still have pictures of our favorite princesses. As the month passed, I noticed that my sister was
getting better because of how she dressed and she was also putting on lipstick. Because I was
still small and curious about things, I asked why she was putting on lipstick, she answered me
and said “I’m a girl and I need to get dressed so that my friends can look at me as presentable.” I
thought about it and because I was greedy and curious, when my sister left I found out about her
belongings in the room, I looked in her drawer full of dresses, sleeveless shirts, short shorts and
skirts. I took a dress, a half knee length, sky blue sleeveless dress partnering it with 1-inched heel
sandals and measured them. My sister and I are only about the same height because I am
somewhat blessed with height. I look good in the clothes I measure, they suit me like a
well-grown lady. It is true to what she said that it was presentable to wear her clothes. From then
on, every time I left the house, I always borrowed her clothes and sometimes I even didn’t let her
know. I’m imitating how my sister dressed. One day, I went with her to buy her things so that I
may know where I can buy my things like hers. The month passed, and people noticed the
change in my clothing style and as a result I received compliments and my confidence really
increased. I’m feeling pretty good, since then I’ve continued to wear maiden clothes, I also love
buying bags and shoes. I buy all the trendy clothes. I also learned how to put make-up. Until I
become a full-fledged virgin. All I wear mostly are dresses and sexy tops if called today. Even
when I’m at home, I still get organized, when I go to school or go out with friends, I have to wear
nice and trendy clothes. Many people say that I am really beautiful and the shape of my body can
really be seen because of my clothes that are often fitted. And because of this it is inevitable to
have a liking for me. Not to brag but many wanted to woo me when I was in high school.
I was in senior high school when I met my long-time boyfriend. We have been together for four
years now. I liked him because of his character. He was kind, polite, smart, and had a dream in
life. It’s a bonus that he’s handsome so I answered him. He courted me for a year, so I finally
answered because he was so determined to get my sweet yes. Years had passed and our
relationship was okay, date here, date there. Until one day, he noticed that I was wearing
something different because for him it looked a bit obscene. He always knew that I would dress
like that but since he became my boyfriend he wanted to change my clothes because for him he
didn’t want others to be rude to me. Every time he tells me to change my clothes, we always
fight. I always answer him that there is nothing wrong with what I am wearing. Sometimes he
was with me when I’m buying clothes. And each time I measure my choices, I will show him
whether it suits me or not. So I don’t know where he gets what his angry at how I dress now.
Ever since he became my boyfriend, he has always informed me of my clothes. He always said

“Don’t wear that because it’s too sexy, don’t wear that because it’s a bit obscene, you might be
rude to others and worst of all, I’m beautifying someone else. It hurts me to hear that from him so
from then on, I changed my clothes the way he wanted. I bought t-shirts and pants, but I wasn’t
happy after a few months. Gradually I lost track of myself because I listened to him. Every time I
open my facebook, and I see my friends wearing trendy clothes, looking so beautiful. I feel like I
don’t belong when I’m with my friends because I’m just wearing a t-shirt and pants. I didn’t enjoy
the moment with them because I wasn’t wearing very well. It made me feel boring. They also
notice that sometimes I don’t go with the pictures because I’m wearing something different from
them. I always think that I am not that beautiful anymore. I miss the one I used to have.
So I talked to him and told him that I’m not saying it was ugly to wear a simple shirt and pants
but because I’m not used to that. You met and loved me like this so why do you want to change
me now? I just want to express myself in how I dress. Because of wearing the clothes I want I
can bring out who and what I am. I’m happy with where I’m used to. I dress nicely for myself
not for others. And this is to increase my self-confidence and to inspire others as well. Luckily, I
was able to properly convey to what I wanted to say and he understood it. He lets me go back to
where I was used to and be happy again. From that moment on, he always showed me that he
was there to support me and make me feel that I was beautiful and loved.
It is important to dress yourself in what makes you feel good. Let your style boost your
confidence and listen to your mood. Each day is an opportunity to embrace your individuality
and reflect your personality through your style. Learn what draws you to a piece. Whether if it is
a dress, sweater or sleeveless. Be in-tune with your attraction to specific fashion and try to stick
with items that you feel fits perfectly into your lifestyle. If you are a risk taker in other aspects of
your life, apply this to your fashion choices as well. Just know that expressing yourself through
your individual style is all about minding what you wear and understanding the inevitability that
fashion affects your soul because beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself.

“What is the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life and how would you apply it to your time as a Miss universe?”
“I work a lot in the slums of Tondo, Manila, and the life there is – it’s poor and it’s very sad. I’ve always taught myself to look for the beauty in it, to look for the beauty in the faces of the children, and to be grateful. And I would bring this aspect as a miss universe to see situations with a silver lining, and to assess where I could give something, where I could provide something as a spokesperson. And this, I think if I could also teach people to be grateful, we could have an amazing world where negativity could not grow and foster, and children would have a smile on their faces.”
“Thank you, Miss Philippines.”
He was sitting on the couch watching TV when his mother tapped him on his shoulder and said, “you’re going to be late for work, hurry up.” Given the fact that his mind is racing with thoughts about how people will look up to him once more. He began cleaning his bags before removing his clothes from the hanger outside – a white long sleeve shirt with a green line around at the front, a stitched flower on the right breast, and logo on the necktie.
He’s now in his bed, looking at himself in the mirror while wearing his uniform. Yes, He is a professor. And he is proud to become a professional educator. He is also a recent graduate of the Philippine Normal University and received his license in a single session. He put some makeup and applied lip balm to his lips to save them from drying out, and a little face powder to prevent the skin from becoming sticky.
“Hey, Ed, aren’t you going to school? You’ll get late if you don’t leave now.”
His daydream was interrupted when his mother suddenly opened the door and spoke.
“Oh, hey, Mom. Yes, I shall leave. Thank you for reminding me.” He hurriedly crossed over to kiss his mother on the cheeks before leaving.
People are laughing and staring at him as he walks down the lane. He’s not sure whether there’s something on his face – dirt probably is the reason why people are laughing at him. There’s a mirror shop nearby so he went in to check himself out in the huge mirror on the wall. He sees that there’s nothing wrong with his face, and he looks decent with his clothes as well, so why are they staring and laughing at him?
 “Look at him, he’s wearing make-up.” The girl laughed and pointed her finger at him with her friends, and then left.
There’s a high school group passing near him in the street. And looking at him the same people looked at him a while ago.
 He was fully aware of it. Is that because he put make-up on while dressing in men’s clothing? Yeah, he is gay, but because of his decent job, he keeps his identity hidden. He ground to a standstill only to then be accepted to that school. It’s hard to act when you’re not comfortable with what you’re doing; it’s like someone looks at you and still laughs at you regardless of how you look and how you are. He mumbled in his head and continued his walk. 
“Good Morning sir.’
“Good looking sir.”
“Hi sir, have a nice day!”
He was in the school’s corridor, and students greeted him whenever they saw him. It’s not him, you know. He does this for his family so that he can live, support them with their finances, and have a job, and we all know that LGBTQ people face discrimination not just within their own families, but around the world. He’s a teacher, and he needs to be a role model for young people, so he decided to wear a men’s uniform even though he didn’t want to.
It’s already 3 in the afternoon, they are in the coffee shop located near the back of the school. His co-teachers invited him to go to the coffee shop a while ago. 
“So what are your plans?” His co-teacher asked him.
“I don’t know, maybe just stay like this? it’s also hard to find work especially if you’re here in my situation.” He said while sipping on his black coffee.
Nowadays, you have to suffer before you get what you want, or do the things that make you happy without degrading you. It’s just so hard to do the things you’re comfortable with without being judged. Everyone has something to say for everything you do, act, nor speak and how you dress. It seems you’re trapped like someone is choking you and you can’t get away with it. All have stumbling blocks.
He went home to their house and was greeted by his mother’s smile at the door.
“How’s my son?” She greeted him while smiling.
“I’m okay, I’m always okay.”
“Happy birthday son! you seem to have forgotten your birthday because you are so busy with your work.” His mom said to him and started to walk behind him and back to her room.
“Thank you, mom.” After he thanked her mom, he hurried to his room because he was exhausted from work; when he opened the door, the tidy and clean room welcomed him; he also found a gift with a letter on the side of the table. He took it and opened the letter.
“I apologize for the pain you felt when we discovered your sexuality. We were stunned, particularly your father, who has long regretted what he did. Happy Birthday, my son, I hope your father and I will forgive you; as time passes, we will eventually embrace you without you even realizing it. Do whatever you want, whatever makes you happy; we will help you, son. Find things and people that will make you happy for the rest of your life. Do you remember the thrift dress I bought? That’s really for you; I just didn’t give it to you and use it because the situation with your father had not even sunk in yet. I don’t want you to have issues, so I still discuss your situation with him. My baby, I wish you a very happy birthday.”
He’s a feminine gay person, and all of us are oppressed in this society. It seems that you must first accomplish something for the majority to accept you. Even if your treatment is good, you will still be judged. At the school where he worked before? He quitted that job; it’s hard to stay and marry someone we don’t want in our life. Now, with the support of his parents, He built his own Parlor Shop and Thrift Shops; his mother is here with him, and his father is still abroad, where he can move easily and laugh. He’s employees respect how he moves and dresses without being rude. And your profession? it is not decided by how you act, move or dress. This is how you accept and love yourself for who and what you are.

By: Maria Ysabelle Chua

In high school, I wasn’t that girl — the pretty, popular girl whom all the guys liked. I wasn’t that girl — the smart, glasses-wearing girl who was voted as president and Most Likely to Succeed. Anyone could be beautiful, I told myself. Felice grades, however, are earned.
Eight years, three jobs, and two careers later, I was stiff and needed direction. I told myself that I would do whatever come to my miind, no matter how messy. The answer came on a January afternoon as I laid in a unknown state on my couch.
I was 30 years old.
I laughed at myself, for I had neither the desire nor the gall to try to become a model. Doing this would mean that I thought that I was beautiful. I didn’t, despite having brushed aside compliments since I have a lot of dry skin/strawberry skin at the age of 17. And even if I did, the modeling industry might disagree, due to my 5-foot-5-inch frame and the top of gray hairs that had set up camp on my head.
Did I want to risk becoming a person people laugh at because her intuition are clearly out of her reach? Like the rejected, “Pinoy Big Brother” contestant who assures the judges that she will prove them wrong when she has a lot of admirers.
I turned to Google for answers. My search revealed there were different types of models: High fashion models are at least 5-foot-8-inch twiggy young women — typically under age 25 — who model designer clothes the average American could never afford. Commercial models, by contrast, are everyday people who have great smiles but vary in height and age. They model shoes, makeup, clothing — common products you see advertised on TV, online and in catalogs. I’d heard that I have a great smile for most of my life. Maybe I had a chance.
Two days later, an online ad caught my attention: “We are looking for women of all ages, sizes and ethnicities for a baggy pants advertising campaign. It is as simple as submitting a picture of yourself, and you may be chosen for a full page ad in an Candy based magazine!”
I shyly submitted my photo, and the company invited me to audition the next day. A hundred of reasons not to go mess my mind, I was tired, and I had a nice little black scab right in the middle of my forehead, commemorating where my hairstylist sister had burned me days before while pressing my hair. Plus, chances are they won’t pick me anyway… I stopped myself. How could I pursue a career as a model if I didn’t believe that anyone would ever select me?
I couldn’t.
So I took a deep breath, said a short prayer for incouragement, and went to my bedroom. I grabbed my most stylish hat — I was going to need it — and I built an outfit around it.
The company’s office, made entirely of glass, could have been featured in an issue of Architectural Digest. It was as chic and modern as the baggy pants. After 30 minutes of comparing myself to every model seated in the lobby, I was called in to meet the casting director. “Pose with this baggy pants in three ways.” I posed one, two, three times.
She called the next evening. “You’re in. Your fitting is tomorrow.”
Really?!
Two days later, I was posing on Candy Mag’s famous Melrose Avenue with a famous baggy pants, being photographed by an “America’s Next Top Model” photographer. Three weeks later, I was lounging on my couch again, this time looking at myself in a two-page spread in the Candy Magazine.
How cool.
I’m proud and humble to say that I inspire people because I have a scar and I work in the fashion industry. I want to help and let people know that beauty can be many things and there is beauty in imperfection.