After a brief respite and heaps of social commitments that I had to cover, the continuation of my celebrity encounters resumes. Brace yourself for some more of my interesting nostalgic anecdotes.
The “Fishnet & Minis” era gave Helen Gamboa an unprecedented popularity surge with the advent of musical films a fitting bifurcated avenue that showcased her innate vocal talent aside from drama and comedy. Helen instantly forayed into show business after -being separated by fine thread behind titlist Cynthia Ugaldeshe- she finished 1st runner-up in the 1961 Miss Press Photography beauty search.
on my college days, and even when I was already teaching, I never missed Helen’s musical movies for they offered some kind of temporary escape from the monotonous daily grind of my classroom activities. I could still vividly recall her well-choreographed song-and-dance numbers in “Target: Ago-G- Generation (1967),” her op-art accessories and floral printed palazzo pants in “Operation: Discotheque (1968),” her mini-skirts, boots and fishnets stockings in “Bang-Shang-A-Lang (1968),” the eye-popping peek-a-boo outfits she wore in “Boogaloo (1968),” and psychedelic printed tops over tight leggings in “Let’s Go Hippy (1968)” which all became trendsetters of the era.
In the late 70s, who would be at my doorstep but the Queen of Musical Movies herself with my friend Ricky Reyes (yes, the beauty salon magnate) to arrange an exclusive sponsorship for a TV show tagged C.U.T.E. (Call Us Two For Entertainment) which she starred in together with her 14-year old niece Sharon Cuneta. It started a successful partnership between me and Ricky since he did both Helen and Sharon’s hair and make-up while I provided their weekly outfits for the show.
Gelainie (that’s how I fondly call Helen), constantly invited us to her White Plains, Quezon City residence and would cook La Paz batchoy and baked cakes and pastries for us. She would create cozy settings to show us her culinary expertise and served everything in her lanai. I would always dominate the session with my full mastery of Gelainie’s songs, dances, and outfits in all her musical movies.
Our relationship went deeper beyond from just being friends or merely on a client-designer level. Her only son, Gian Carlo, happened to be my eldest son Brian’s classmate in Ateneo so we would regularly be together in every parent-teacher meetings and other school related activities.
When her brother-in-law Maru Sotto (Tito Sotto’s younger brother Marcelino Antonio, Jr.) was about to get married to Ali Carag (more popularly known as recording artist Aloha), it was Gelainie who arranged the appointment with me. Since Ali would be coming from her classes at UST and to free her from swooning fans as much as possible, the meeting was set at 9:30 pm. I later realized that the prospective bride was already in her interesting stage, so, the rub.
Early morning of the wedding day, I delivered Ali’s bridal trousseau to the Sotto’s residence at Gonzales Street near UN Avenue while Gelainie came early, too, to personally attend to her mother-in-law’s hair and make-up. A little problem arose when she was doing the upper eye area. Gelainie frantically requested me to stretch upward the loose eye folds so she could apply the needed cosmetic. It was a kind of pressured situation since Gelainie was working under a limited time. That was how close and loving Gelainie was to Tito’s mom. No wonder Tito adores her unconditionally.
Unfortunately, Ali and Maru’s marital bond broke and they went their own separate ways. Their only son, Mico, who was under Ali’s care died from a freak accident on December 29, 2003. Currently Ali is married to a diplomat, Omar Bsaies, and occasionally does hosting and television guestings.
Susan Roces, the all-time Queen of Philippine Movies came into my life during the time when I least expected it. The late Mrs. Lita V. Pineda of Philippine Plumbing, Co. who was my matrimonial god mother or ninang, came back from a month-long European tour where Susan happened to be in the group. They became roommates and in one of their random conversations, my ninang made mention of my name to Susan as her die-hard fan that intrigued the latter.
Days after their arrival I was invited to dinner by my ninang where Susan was a guest. I was momentarily star struck after being introduced but later formalities were obliterated gradually by rambunctiously wild jokes that set the atmosphere in a more relaxed mood.
As expected, Susan was amazed on how I could enumerate all her movies with corresponding leading men which she, herself, had lost track. Swannie, my term of endearment for her, and I instantly created that unforeseen bonding that before we knew it, it was already the wee hours of the morning and my tales of idolatry wasn’t even halfway.
Obviously, Swannie enjoyed the surprising little details in my every story.
Since then, Swannie and I became super close to the extent of going out for dinner in different five-star hotels and high-end restaurants with former Sampaguita Pictures executive secretary and Swannie’s best friend Pempe Rodrigo Oreta or Annabelle Rama and sometimes with her daughter Grace, now MTRCB chair.
I would always make sure I didn’t have any other commitment each time I delivered orders in Swannie’s Lincoln Street residence in Greenhills, Quezon City to allow sufficient time for our lengthy chats. We used to stay in her well-maintained garden that offered a vantage view of her growing orchid collection. I would bring specially ordered pork cordon bleu or chicken pastel which were among the late Ronnie Poe’s favorite recipes. It was also Swannie who introduced me to her personal shoemaker in Marikina with whom I built an enterprising business relationship for years.
Swannie is one celebrity who treasures friendship and shows how she values it in her many peculiar ways. Every year, during my birthday, she would be the earliest to come to the house or to any reserved venue for my occasion and still would be the last to leave.
One of her personal questions I couldn’t forget was: “Which do you prefer, being merely a fan or being a close friend?” To which I responded without batting an eyelash: “I would choose being a fan anytime.” “Why is that so?” She asked. “Simply because there was thrill and uncontained excitement from the mystery that enveloped you as a celebrity icon.” “But what about now?” “Yes, it feels great to be more than rubbing elbows with someone idolized by millions, but the mystery that gives that proverbial magic was now lost!” And she released a hearty laugh.
Incidentally, both Gelanie and Swannie were cast in the recently concluded ABS-CBN’s block-buster television drama series “Walang Hanggan” where they delineated the roles of contradicting sisters.
One of the most up-front, warmest, and down-to-earth celebrities I encountered was the revered dramatic actress Rita Gomez, the first ever actress who deserved a “Miss” before her name and could rightfully demand an above-the-title billing. Mother Rita, that’s how she loved to be addressed, was already way beyond her prime and in semi-retirement age when I and Ricky Reyes became close to her. A US resident and an occasional Manila visitor, I would pick her up (fresh from the airport) from her Cubao residence (just behind Arcega’s) with her sister Siony, three sons (one of which was Ronald Bregandahl), and two daughters-in-law (starlet Chona Castillo was one of them) in tow for a welcome dinner at home. She used to joke in jest: “O, heto na naman kami, isang barangay at isang bayan-bayanan!” which was received as more than a compliment.
She would always prefer to sit by the buffet table and would blurt: “Dito ako sa malapit sa food, ayoko nang balik-balik. ” And would segue to, “O, ihanda na ang mga brown bag. Kawawa naman sina Tagpi, Spot, at Bantay. Hindi pa kumakain tapos kami’y bundat na bundat na!” Followed by an explosion of boisterous laughter. But mind you, Mother Rita was not kidding, she was serious. She always loved to have some take home food especially those that she seldom got the chance to eat like Bicol express (dried taro leaves cooked in spicy coconut milk), dinuguan (pork blood stew), and sinigang na ulo ng salmon sa miso (salmon head with bean curd in sour soup).
She was already in her 60s then but Mother Rita’s zest for life remained. Her distinct voice (that was often mistaken with socialite Elvira Manahan) gave her even more character especially when she talked in high volume or burst into laughter. The one thing she couldn’t get rid of was smoking. She could be deprived of three meals in a day but not a pack or two of cigarettes and about 6 to 10 cups of coffee in the entire hours that she was awake. She would request me to drive her to Folk Street in San Juan (former Pres. Erap Estrada’s residence), or to Valencia Street in Greenhills at the Sampaguita Pictures compound where she played mah-jong overnight and sometimes, for three straight days and nights.
How she laughed while simultaneously being amused with a tone of sympathy when I told her about my story one summer of 1957 when I was barely 12 years old. I used to peddle “bitso-bitso” around the town during vacation. When I learned that Rita Gomez was shooting a fantasy film, “Diyosa,” in nearby Ugong Falls in Morong, Rizal, I wasted no time and immediately rushed to the location. Always been a movie fan and overly excited to watch the filming, I hid my stuff under a thick bundle of hay. Having addicted to the story that was serialized weekly in Pilipino Komiks, “Diyosa,” or Rita in title role, was a half water nymph and half human fantasy character. You could just imagine my inexplicable excitement upon seeing how the entire filming process unfolded before my very eyes especially when they made it appear that Rita was dissolved into vapor once she stepped into a huge wok rested over a huge flame.
Engrossed with the filming, taking a break to either eat, pee, or drink were never my option. What I knew was I didn’t feel any of the sort and just didn’t want to miss a scene. Then I only came back to my senses when the entire crew took a dinner break and realized that it was already 8:00 in the evening. Later I discovered that my wares were all covered with ants and there was no way for a single piece to be saved. I was forced to weave lies and excuses to the irritated bakery owner to justify my fault. Despite the loss and the burden that I had to pay, there was no regret. Having had watched a popular actress convincingly acting her role while I learned the technical aspects of film making was a worth-treasuring experience I still hold dear to my heart.
During the filming of “Gamitin Mo Ako,” an Al Tantay-Pinky Suarez starrer where Mother Rita was billed as big as the title, I discovered her innate concern with her co-workers and her dedicated passion to the craft that built her name. In the many nights that we stayed late shooting her parts, she shared a lot of her personal secrets with me that made me felt so honored to have been entrusted with those unprintable stories. And for all those things, she earned my respect even more.
Sadly, Mother Rita died of lung cancer for obvious reason but I’m certain if she could only be reached for comment she would vehemently utter: “Dah-ling, no regrets at all. I’ve lived my life to the fullest, what more could I ask for?” I could only imagine her delivering these lines in her distinct voice while puffing a cigarette, eyebrows arched the way only a Rita Gomez could, while gently releasing a billowy smoke from her pouted lips.
Lala Aunor, the pint-size cousin of Nora Aunor, was my client when she was at the peak of her career. Timid and shy but unbelievably smart, the young singer-actress would allow me to decide on the designs of the materials she used to bring before my table, although she had clever ideas on what could best suit her. She was always in her usual highly spirited self every time she’s around and I noticed that her every sentence was constantly punctuated with a ready smile.
The Lala Aunor Show, undoubtedly, gave me a very generous amount of television exposure which earned a big boost for my career for aside from giving me recognition in the opening and ending of her show, she ordered a framed print ad of my name which they focused during commercial plugging.
Lani Mercado was one of the few upcoming actresses that became very close to me since she was referred by her half-brother (who happened to be a neighbor in Cubao). Candy, Lani’s pet name, used to come to the house more than she visited my shop. Every Sunday, Candy, together with her mom Justa, had dinner with us after which she would change into the outfit I made for her weekly show with Joey De Leon, “Ladies & Gentlemen.”
Now already with a family and a politician herself like her hubby Senator Bong Revilla, Lani still occasionally accepts television offers while simultaneously rearing her children who have followed their footsteps as either in public service or the movies.
Ruffa Gutierrez was brought to me by Manila Bulletin’s Celebrity World columnist Crispina M. Belen when she was then barely 14 and fresh from her US stint. I remember the first dress I made for her: an off-shouldered pink lace with appliqué which she wore as a storyteller under a Christmas tree in Regal Film’s television holiday presentation.
Since then, Ruffa became a regular client and a constant guest in my parties with twin brothers Raymond and Richard and mom Annabelle.
When she did “Lab Kita, Bilib Ka Ba?” opposite Robin Padilla, she requested me to stay with her during overnight shootings in the hills of Tanay, Rizal. She was so “malambing”(affectionate), like a kid sister in need of somebody to watch over her or a helpless daughter who wanted a father figure to be by her side. In the film’s wedding scene shot in the historic Baras church, Ruffa wore my creation, an especially commissioned bridal gown by the movie production.
I also provided the bridal gown and the Barong Tagalog that she and Gabby Concepcion wore in their wedding scene in “Loretta,” the ill-fated movie that suffered in the boxoffice with the two stars’ involvement in the 1994 Manila Film Fest switching scandal. But the said much publicized film fest scam became even more memorable to me because my friend Lolit Solis, Gabby’s manager, blamed the Barong Tagalog he used during the awarding ceremony as “malas” (unlucky). To justifiably contradict her accusation, my defense was: “Your decision to let Gabby wore it for a different occasion made it lose its good luck charm since you requested me to rush it purposely for the FAMAS.”
Ruffa was married to Ylmaz Bektas, a Turkish businessman, but finally filed for a divorce following a tumultuous relationship winning custody of her two daughters Lorin (Lorin Gabrielle) (9) and Venice (Venicia Loran) (8).
Up next: My close encounters with Maricel Morales, Juan Rodrigo, Gardo Verzosa, Jestoni Alarcon, Rachel Lobangco, Rosanna Roces, Priscilla Almeda, and Leandro Baldemor.
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