i Report Issue No. 3 2005 - Philippine Center for Investigative ...

T H E L O S T G E N E R A T I O N
meaning that there are nearly
equal numbers of Pinoys and
Pinays out there, snapping up
creams and cleansers.
Even cosmetic surgery has
become not just acceptable,
but desirable for many Filipino
men—from standard dermatology
for simple problems like
acne, to unapologetic vanity procedures
such as liposuction and
“age-defying” Botox injections.
Dr. Vicky Belo of the popular
Belo Medical Clinic confirms,
“Before, (men) only accounted
for one-fourth of my total
clientele. Now they are about
one-third.” It’s gotten to the point
where “Who’s your derma?” is
a topic that can actually enjoy
lengthy discussion time in a manto-man
conversation, and surgical
treatment has become something
of a mark of status in Philippine
showbiz. Actors Albert Martinez
and John Lloyd Cruz, as well as
singer Janno Gibbs, among others,
readily (and proudly!) admit
to being regular clients at the
Belo Medical Clinic.
CAN ALL this male vanity be
laid at the door of celebrities like
these and metrosexual poster
boy David Beckham? Apparently
not. For one thing, as I mentioned
earlier, the Filipino trait
of being vanidoso well predates
Becks and his ilk. Besides, a metrosexual,
by definition, is “a male
who has a strong aesthetic sense
and spends a great deal of time
and money on his appearance.”
While it seems that we Pinoys
certainly do make the time and
shell out the cash for our looks,
we don’t always have enough of
an aesthetic sense to know what
we’re doing… unless there actually
is a segment of the female
populace I don’t know about
that really does swoon over pink,
manicured fingernails on a man.
I can’t be sure there isn’t, having
never tried the look myself.
As for why we’re willing to
spend so much time and money,
it may, surprisingly, be a product
of social and economic factors.
During the U.S. recession, it was
observed that lipstick sales shot
up, only to taper down again
once the recession was over.
Consistent repetition of this phenomenon
led economists to conclude
that, when consumers feel
less than confident about the future,
they tend to purchase small,
comforting indulgences such as
lipstick rather than splurging on
larger items like appliances and
electronic gadgets. Correspondingly,
Ricky Reyes has noted that
more customers flocked to salons
during the 1997 economic crisis
in the Philippines, turning to
relatively low-priced services like
haircuts in order to make themselves
feel better in an unstable
living environment.
While the purchase of
lipstick per se may not exactly
be applicable (so far!) to the
Filipino male, we can obviously
draw a corollary with your
average Pinoy, who might be
understandably reluctant to buy,
say, a flat-screen TV in a country
where coup d’etat rumors circulate
at least twice a year. Instead,
he might choose to spend his
money on his appearance,
perhaps subconsciously reasoning
that his shiny, bouncy hair,
glowing, healthy skin, and, yes,
tidy pink nails are all conveniently
portable in the event that
he should need to duck and run
for cover. And these are straight
guys we’re talking about here.
According to Noel Manucom,
head of planning and strategy at
Splash cosmetics, the quest for
beauty may also be perceived
as a quest for social equality.
“Filipinos, especially those in
the C and D (classes), are still
influenced by their colonial
mentality that white skin and a
tall nose are what those in high
society have,” Manucom says.
“They may not be able to afford
to have their nose done, but the
desire to have a fairer skin can
be met by buying… products.”
In fact, the double-digit
growth in skin care popularity
among Filipino males over the
last six years is largely attributable
to skin-whitening formulas.
Pinoys are still devoted to hair
care products and fragrance
above anything else—with
growing interest in bath washes,
oral hygiene, and weight loss or
gain—yet skin care is acknowledged
to be the main fuel of the
Philippine beauty industry. This
has led to some very disturbing
(to me, at least) TV ads, particularly
the one where a twentysomething
young man testifies,
with evident smugness, that his
male friends have been telling
him, “Pare, pumuputi ka yata,
ah (Man, you look fairer)!”
NOW PERSONALLY, I have
never had a verbal exchange like
that with any of my friends, male
or female. But I am beginning to
dread that I just might someday.
Not that I use whitening products,
but, given the evidence
from that time in high school up
to the present, it seems irrefutable
that I am, contrary to my
previous belief, vain.
I visit my barber in Greenhills
once a week—and while
this does, indeed, occur at a
barbershop, I not only have my
head shaved and my beard and
moustache trimmed, I have my
feet tended to, as well. When
I feel particularly filthy, I have
a facial. Once in a while, my
barber takes it upon himself to
shape my eyebrows with a razor—I’m
still not sure I approve
of this, but I’ve never stopped
him, either. And that’s not all
my barbershop offers. I can opt
for an Iontophoresis, Deep Laser
Cleaning, Skin Bleaching, Skin
Whitening, Underarm Whitening,
Wart Removal, Paraffin Waxing,
Hair Dyeing, Hair Rebonding,
something called “Kilay,”
and a host of other services I
never thought would be found
in a bastion of manliness.
These days, most women
will tell you that they don’t
necessarily pamper and primp
in order to please men; they do
it to please themselves. Most
vain men, I think, will tell you
exactly the opposite: we like to
look good because women like
men who look good. Because
when all is said and done about
socio economic factors, media
proliferation, and all that, what
we Pinoy peacocks really have
in common, before anything
else, is that we are romantics.
Unlike males of many other
ethnicities, we still take courting
seriously. Even married
men like me still make ligaw,
in a sense, and we go whole
hog when we do it: we buy the
flowers, we pick up the check,
we open doors and pull chairs
out for the objects of our affections.
Heck, many of us would
probably still be willing to whip
our name-brand jackets off our
backs and lay them across mud
puddles so our women wouldn’t
have to step 10 measly inches
out of their way. Compared to
that, what’s a little extra effort to
smell nice and try to look like
someone they’d actually be willing
to be seen with in public?
So what I’m saying is, when
you get right down to it, Filipino
male vanity probably stems from
one unifying cultural imperative:
to woo women (or, well,
men, depending on your gender
preference). Even women we’re
already married to, women
we have no actual romantic or
sexual interest in, women we
know we don’t have a chance
in hell of even speaking to at all.
It’s not just to get someone into
bed (not that we’d mind); it’s to
merit, at the very least, that look
in a woman’s eye that says, “You
know, that guy’s not bad.” Because
this is what we’re thinking
(well, let’s just say we’re a little
more visceral about it) when we
look at women all the time. And
it’s simply nice to have the positive
appraisal reciprocated once
in a while.
Therefore, ladies, when
you see men like me preening
or looking bewildered yet
grimly determined in the facial
cleanser aisle of your favorite
personal care store, remember
that we’re most likely doing it,
ultimately, for you.
Now will you please stop
laughing?
Dean Francis Alfar is a husband,
father, playwright, fictionist, comic
book creator and businessman.
He is a 7-time Don Carlos
Palanca Awardee,recipient of the
National Book Award, and an
internationally published author.
His nails are never ever pink.
PHILIPPINE CENTER FOR INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM
I REPORT
49