Bryanboy.com - Fashion Blogger
7:27 pm

Begin Desire With Martini

11/11/2014, Musings, Sponsored Content

Have you seen Martini’s new ad campaign entitled “Begin Desire”? As many of you guys know, I skipped a day out of my London Fashion Week schedule to go to Rome to see filmmaker Jake Scott direct this very inspirational short film. The story is about an Italian waitress who found a note left by a customer, encouraging her to make changes in her life because she began to desire.

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I found this film particularly moving. I may not be a waitress but there was a time in my life that I found myself in a situation similar to hers. Perhaps not just one time but many, many times. One fine example is when I used to live in the Philippines. I cannot say I totally hated it but it felt like I was trapped in a place where I couldn’t evolve. I didn’t want to be this person who spent a huge chunk of his twenties in front of the computer sixteen hours a day with no life outside the website.

And when my previous jobs came by the busload, I found myself criss-crossing continents several times a month (if not several times a week). While I love traveling, I spent more time in the sky than being on land. For years, I was happy on the surface because things went well with my career but I was miserable inside because I couldn’t see my loved ones as often as I should. One has to make sacrifices though. No one in this world deserves to be held back by other people to live a life they want for themselves.

Anyway, that was the past. I like to say that yesterday is a closed book. I obviously have no regrets because that was the way things were. Everything happens for a reason. I wouldn’t be here where I am today.. I felt that I had to change my life completely. It obviously began from desiring something that was completely different to what I had. And that’s what I did. I packed my bags, moved to New York and haven’t looked back.

[pinit]
11:22 pm

Pill-Popping

18/08/2014, Altaroma, Musings

I had my upper wisdom teeth taken out last week. My dentist bugged me for the past year and a half to get them extracted but it was only until now that I found a chunk of time to get it done. I was petrified in the beginning but all my fears went away as soon as they injected my jaw with anesthesia. My dentist kept asking me if I’m ok every five minutes and I was like “yes, yes, yes, just remove the damn tooth already!”

Giannico shoes by Nicolo Beretta spring summer 2015

He had difficulties removing the upper right tooth and he was *this* close to halting the extraction. Boy am I glad he didn’t give up. I must say the most uncomfortable thing I felt during the operation was having my mouth open for a little over an hour. It was the worst lock jaw of my life. Everything went well in the end and I walked out of the clinic with prescriptions. I was a happy camper alright. I became friends with my little orange bottles of Amoxcillin, Ibuprofen and Vicodin.

I’ve never had Vicodin before so the curiosity was there. I grew up in the third world where pain is just part of daily life. When I had another tooth extracted many, many years ago, my dentist gave me a sheet of paracetamol tablets. Yep, paracetamol. They simply do not have this pill-popping culture they have in America where everyone gets pills for everything under the sun.

This is evident when it comes to television commercials. In the Philippines, it’s all about personal hygiene products. In Germany, they have travel-related ads. In America however, you turn the television on and it’s all about pills, pills, pills. And the occasional car insurance.

Everyone in my circle told me I’ll have so much fun on Vicodin but to be honest with you, it wasn’t remarkable in any way. Chipmunk face aside, the first two days after the surgery were obviously very challenging but I wouldn’t say it was unbearable. Scraping my knee on the pavement and waiting for it to heal ranks higher on my pain-o-meter scale. Do they prescribe vicodin for that? No.

Sure, there was this very mild “comforting” and “warm” effect, like all I want to do is to be under my duvet and cuddle with my pillow fortress (I have eight pillows on my bed) but other than that, there weren’t any MAJOR side effects. None of this constipation or narcotic high oho haa. I didn’t abuse my pills. I only took them in the morning when I wake up (that’s when the gaping hole in my mouth really hurts) and right before dinner.

I see how kids in America abuse these painkillers. I’ve read stories online how people crush them and snort them and I’m like no way Jose, no bueno.

Thou shall not forget: your health is your most valuable asset.

Shoe by Giannico Shoes designed by Nicolo Beretta (click HERE) as seen at the Spring/Summer 2015 Altaroma AI Artisanal Intelligence

[pinit]
1:30 pm

Peace And Love For Humanity

06/08/2014, Musings

Many of you who follow me on my other social media outlets are aware that I’m showing concern for the civilians in Gaza. Over the past few weeks, 1,834 Palestinian people have died, hundreds of them are innocent children, from the conflict between Gaza and Israel. The United States State Department issued a statement saying the United States is “appalled by the disgraceful shelling outside an UNRWA school in Rafah”. United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki Moon also issued a statement saying Israel’s attack of civilian shelters and killing of Palestinian civilians as a “gross violation of international humanitarian law”.

This video made me cry.

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Put yourself in their shoes. Imagine your home being destroyed. Where would you and your family go? Where? Schools and hospitals, are being bombed left and right. Israel’s justification to bomb these buildings (yes, schools AND hospitals) is that they are being used by Hamas to attack Israel back. As of now, hundreds and hundreds of thousands of people are displaced and homeless. Where do they go?

No one can flee Gaza. Absolutely no one. They have absolutely zero access to the outside world. Israel cut them off. They don’t want to let any Palestinian get out of Gaza because they fear they would attack Israel.
According to NBC News, Gaza’s one main power plant, which is the only power plant in Gaza, a city of 1.8 Million people, was destroyed.

What I don’t understand is, why is it so wrong, to the eyes of some, to show concern towards innocent civilians from BOTH sides? Many of my friends don’t even want to discuss this conflict on their social media outlets for fear of being attacked by those with extremely strong Pro-Israel or Pro-Palestine opinions. As an outsider, you can’t even ask questions because people misconstrue questioning as an act of support to either parties!

I chose to speak up about this matter on MY social media because, as a human being, I, truly, genuinely feel sorry for all the innocent victims in this conflict. Every morning when I wake up, I always read the news. I like to be aware of everything. I find it extremely difficult to ignore what is going on in the world and to continue with my day to day life when I see gruesome video and images from the conflict.

I have a number of friends who live in Tel Aviv who I keep in touch with on social media and whenever I read their updates of running to shelters or what have you, I send them messages saying to always be safe, and I care for them.

Regardless of your religious or political beliefs, you cannot ignore the fact that somewhere out there in Gaza, there is a mother or a father crying over the loss of their child. There are children out there whose lives are forever changed from losing their parents. There are families out there who lost their homes, have nowhere to go, have lost their possessions, have nothing to eat.

You don’t have to be Pro-Israel or Pro-Palestine to want peace in the region or to wish for minimum civilian casualties. You don’t have to be pro-whoever to feel sorry for other people. Compassion is a basic human emotion.

I’m glad there’s a cease-fire and I hope it stays that way. The killings and the attacks, on both sides if I may add, have to stop.

[pinit]
9:38 pm

Hashtag #BBPROBLEMS

02/01/2013, Current Affairs, Musings

Bryanboy photobombed by a tourist at the Lincoln Memorial

1. “Not being photobombed by a sports clothes-wearing person should be a basic human right.”

2. “I don’t like it when people get in the way of my frame. Tourists get their photos taken and upload them on their facebook to brag to their friends they went to a certain place. I, on the other hand, well, this is real work. If this wasn’t real work, I’m just gonna put my velour tracksuit and my sports shoes and call it a day.”

3. “I was trying things on at home to wear to the airport the night before I fly. While looking at the mirror with an outfit option, I suddenly remembered that I was being flown economy so I took off the white fox fur off my neck and packed it in my suitcase instead. Wait let me tweet that…”

4. “It just occurred to me that if you’re being flown coach, you need to tone your outfit down, otherwise, your outfit won’t make sense. It’s like ‘oh hay gurl you lewkin so divine but oh you’re like on the last row at the back near all the toilets’”

5. “I’m gonna have one suitcase for winter clothes and one suitcase for summer clothes. It’s an 8 day trip. Europe and Asia. Three days in Europe, four days in Asia. Wait, that’s three plus four, sorry, five days in Asia.”

6. “Someone from instagram told me about plebestrians. You know, pedestrians and plebs combined.”

7. “Oh oh oh oh oh I found something online, it’s like an Airbnb but it’s for dogs. It’s called DogVacay.com. You can pay someone like $30 a night to take care of your dog!”

8. “I have a question…. so you know how on planet Earth there’s land and there’s water, right? Is there land underneath all the water, like underneath all the oceans and seas? I mean, I know there’s the sea floor but are there parts of the earth where there isn’t?”

9. “What is the point of buying flowers for your home when they all die after a day or two anyway? Why would you buy death?”

10. “I want to get a dog but according to the airline I spoke to, they have a summer embargo on May 15 to September 15 and a winter embargo on November 15 until March 15. So basically I can only fly the dog like once a year.”

11. “I don’t have shoes that match my new Elie Saab oatmeal gray coat.”

12. “Next year I want to wear real jooooowwwrrrrry not cubic zirconia. I like how jewelry is pronounced more than how it’s spelled, like, jooooowwwrrrrry. Do you want some joooowwwwrrrry? Yes, please, I want lots of joooowwwwrrryyy.”

13. “I think it’s less degrading to shop at Century 21 as long as you spend a lot of money. I like Century 21. They have lots of cute stuff!”

14. “I just made my first return at a store ever. When I got home, the color looked soo different on me than when I tried it at the store.”

15. “When you go to a designer store and see staff wearing things that are being sold on the racks, you shouldn’t buy those things unless you want to look like staff. I’m only saying this because I bought something from a store a couple of weeks ago and when I went back again to browse for new things, lo and behold one of the guys who work there wore the same top as me. I’m so glad I was the only living entity in the store… can you imagine the face, my face, if another customer came up and asked for my help? I’d die! I don’t have retail experience, ever!”

16. *in baby voice* “Will you please take a photo of me doing my laundry for my instagram? I need to make my instagram look like I’m grounded, approachable and I’m doing “real people” work. Thank you! All these bitches on instragam are all smiley and happy and they all go to fabulous places but you never see anyone cooking or taking a poo or sweating.”

17. “I hate people!”

[pinit]
4:12 pm

Detour Ahead. What’s The Next Step?

13/05/2012, Current Affairs, Musings

Bryanboy in a bathtub, Shangri-la Hotel Sydney

Everything in this world has a shelf life.

The idea of me pecking away at the keyboard at three in the morning, sharing images of my tiresome self to internet folk when I hit my mid-thirties is cringe-worthy. God forbid I turn into one of them geriatrics desperately clinging to their fading youth, forcing themselves to keep up with the times.

No, seriously.

My biggest fear is to end up being that miserable, unhappy, bitter old queen who, at first glance, seem to have it all. No one knows that every night, he takes his mixture of two foundations, Maybelline and Nars, off, unveiling his face, his scars, his multiple nose jobs, botox, stitches and collagen… all in front of the mirror. He wraps his hair in a towel while he sings to “Stars are Blind” and thinks of what he’s gonna wear the next day — which Pologeorgis fur matches his gray, wide-leg Akris trousers, what haute joaillerie to wear with the latest Prada.

I don’t want that.

I always tell myself to simply go with the natural ebb and flow of things in order for me to have a felicitous life.

Thing is, I’m not one who likes to leave everything to good ol’ fate and destiny. I’ve said it many times over and over — I believe in creating opportunities for myself rather than waiting for opportunities to land on my lap. Dreams remain dreams if you don’t act upon them.

The universe, so far, has been incredibly generous to me. I think I’ve reached a certain point where I have most of what I want in life — a supportive family, a loving partner and a very loyal set of friends and business colleagues who unconditionally stand by me through thick and thin, warts and all. I have traveled the world and back. Times twenty. I’m also in a position where I can finally give back and I do. OK FINE, I don’t have enough expensive clothes but then again you can never have enough expensive clothes, furs, jewwwwwry and leather goods but in all seriousness, overall, I’m a happy camper.

AND NOW WHAT?

The problem is, I have so much energy, drive and ambition. I always have this never-ending desire to experience new things, to do more, to do better.

I feel like I need to do something really remarkable.

Every time I look at very successful people in the news, I always, always feel inferior because I haven’t achieved anything significant in this world.

So how and where do we go from here? I’m always up for a good challenge.

Answers on a postcard…

Photo via Sonny Vandevelde

[pinit]
10:32 pm

I Kinda Wanna Dance

05/04/2012, Current Affairs, Music, Musings

I can’t remember the last time I danced for hours. It’s one thing to go to a night club and sway the odd, spastic hip here and there and it’s another thing to down a dozen vodka red bulls, throw caution to the wind and do a proper all-night sweat-a-thon dance bender. I was an avid clubber when I was younger. I’ve been to many clubs and raves back in the day, gone through countless glowsticks and pacifiers and lollipops and platform shoes and pills and god knows what else. I’ve seen people vomit, faint, foam in the mouth, etc. I’d wear my shades not at night but in the morning. Sun rise meant it was time to go home. Or to a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend’s apartment for an afterparty.

Bryanboy in a yellow feather coat

Cocaine to my ears…
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And I feel what you feel, and I do what you do. And I feel like I’m falling, falling, falling… feeeeeeeeeeel feeeeeeel feeeeel!

I dunno. There’s just something so therapeutic submitting oneself to the beat of uplifting music, throw arms in the air and jump and dance and roar like a wild animal.

Times definitely have changed though. Wind the clocks forward and here I am, a morning person, hitting the hotel breakfast buffet whenever possible. Sunlight became my best friend. Without it, I won’t have images for my blog.

I’d pop by the odd club and most places feel like four-walled rooms filled with boozed posers. Barely anyone dances, etc. I went to this “Black and White” party at the Teatro Versace in Milan last week and while the venue was packed, you can count with two hands the number of people shaking their booties. What happened to those days when people spilled drinks on each other and no one cared because everyone was dancing and everyone worshipped the DJ?

In this day and age of social media and cellphones and facebook and twitter and twitpic, people became camera-ready creatures. Now I can’t even go to a club and dance carelessly until I feel like a sweaty sponge without anyone tapping my shoulder every few minutes to ask for a photo. I don’t mind doing this of course but also, it would be nice to have a night off. It would be nice to do what I went to the club for…. to be anonymous, to let my hair down, have a nice drink and dance the night away.

[pinit]
5:23 am

Bittermelon Much?

10/03/2012, Musings

I’ve been so busy during fashion month that I’ve completely forgotten about the delightful Marni and H&M collaboration. Yesterday was the launch no wonder all the Marni x H&M merchandise were gone by the time I popped by H&M store on Boulevard Hausmann last night before dinner. No surprises there. I wanted so many things from the collection — the quirky tops, all the polka dot items, the jacket with the patent leather panel on the front, the accessories, etc. It was a gorgeous, GORGEOUS collaboration.

I was so bitter last night for being empty-handed (no, I’m NOT gonna look up Marni x H&M on eBay) but then I woke up this morning with feeling relieved. I love these designer collaborations so much that I always end up not buying not just one or two items but the whole lot. Remember the Versace and Lanvin collaborations? I’ve spent so much money on those and frankly-speaking, the novelty had worn off after a week. What happened to all the clothes I bought? After shooting them for my blog, they’re probably gathering dust in my closet somewhere.

I’m going back to Stockhome and I mean Stockholm, land of H&M, early next week. When it comes to aesthetics, most Swedes are allergic to anything loud. Hopefully there are still some leftovers. Who knows. Otherwise, there’s real Marni — at least not everyone and their dog has em.

Feeling bitter is not a good feeling. Please make it go away.

Hopefully it will when I go to real Marni and of course, Prada.

[pinit]
11:26 am

Your Relationship & Sex Questions Answered (Part 1)

26/01/2012, Current Affairs, Musings

As promised on Twitter earlier, here are some answers to some of your relationship & sex-related questions. I wanted to take a brief break from everything that’s going on my plate. It’s very therapeutic answering your questions.

Bryanboy and German sausage

Feel free to tweet me @bryanboy with your questions or ask them on the comments box. I’ll answer the ones I find interesting. No super graphic or explicit questions though, let’s keep everything R-Rated. You may ask anything and everything, of course, but I cannot guarantee you’ll get an answer.

Click click click!
CONTINUE READING

[pinit]
7:36 pm

Negligent Nightmare

20/12/2011, Musings

My blog readers and twitter followers are oh so familiar with my luggage mishaps. What can I say — I’m a magnet for such encounters. Over the years I’ve had my bags lost (Florence), misdirected (Russia), delayed due to connecting flights, so on and so forth. But nothing was as traumatising as what I’ve experienced the other day.

Bryanboy's luggage fiasco in New York

Jorge, my very reliable driver in New York, was scheduled to pick me up at around 9AM at my hotel so I can catch my 12:30PM flight. I called my hotel’s front desk around 8:45 for luggage assistance. Blond Ben, the bellman, came up to my room. What a delight, I thought. We made the obligatory small chatter as soon as I opened the door. Where are you from? Philippines. Oh, you speak Tagalog? Yes. A friend of mine is Filipino, yaddi yaddi yadda. I gave him five bags — three of them oversized, brimming with stuff. I was still packing my hand luggage so I told him I’ll stay in my room for a few more minutes and he can go downstairs. He asked if I have a car or if I’m taking a cab. I said I have a car waiting downstairs. I instructed him to meet my driver, Jorge, downstairs and to save time (I’m in a rush), he can put my bags in the trunk. Quick, easy, efficient. I tipped him ten bucks for the favour.

I went downstairs about ten or so minutes later and my beloved Jorge was there waiting for me. After exchanging hugs, I lit a cigarette. I need my nicotine fix before that long car ride to JFK. I asked him how’s the traffic and he said it wasn’t that bad. Jorge then took two of my carry-on bags: my tote bag and my roller case. “Where’s the rest of your bags,” he asked.

WHAT.
WHAT?
WHAT!

I thought he was joking at first. I’ve worked with Jorge for years and he doesn’t flinch at the amount of luggage I bring. Ok, maybe except the time when I had an urgent meeting in NYC so I went there overnight and brought just one suitcase with me. He’s used to seeing me with more baggage than none.

“What do you mean?”
“Where’s the rest of your bags?”
“The bellman was supposed to bring it to you 20 minutes ago!”

To cut the long story short, the handsome Ben suddenly became numero uno on my personal shit list (Eva Mendes is high up there; I’ve just found out that she’s dating Ryan Gosling.) He inadvertently put all of my bags in this big, black SUV with OTHER passengers in it. And that car left! Nowhere to be found. Ditto with my luggage. My furs were there, my Prada was there, those wasabi peas my sister asked me to buy in bulk when I went to Tokyo before coming to New York were there, my New Year’s outfit was there, my vibrator was there, my soul was there.

I don’t know what drugs the bellmen were taking for suggesting that I wait for my bags because chances are, the other car will come back to the hotel to return the luggage. And then what, miss my long-haul flight? Then they suggested that I go to the airport and they’ll send another car to deliver my luggage. Like what, when I’m inside the airport?

I am NOT leaving Manhattan without my luggage. PERIOD.

I tried to keep my calm. I went to the front desk and asked to speak to a manager. Instead of letting me speak to authority, the guy at reception simply told me that they are aware of the situation and the Bell Manager is ‘working on it.’

I don’t know what miracle they did but they eventually got hold of the other car.

Jorge and I drove to where the car was and we were able to retrieve my bags. And I made my flight.

Can you imagine? What if the other car was a cab or a private car and not from a car service?

I don’t know what the moral lesson of this story.
I’m just happy to be reunited with my tranny box.

#justsaying

[pinit]
12:56 am

Four Questions

29/11/2011, Musings

I’m looking for straight-forward answers to my straight-forward questions. Go!
(I apologize in advance for the pop-up results…)

Tell me how you really feel.




Thanks guys! Feel free to post comments if you have any.

[pinit]