Looking down on people is a practice I often find myself doing.
I mean this literally, of course - I enjoy observing people from the
anonymity of height - not that I like exalting myself at another's
expense. An introvert finds comfort in being a solitary voyeur and
an introvert am I. So, when an introvert finds himself at the soft
launch of a chic, sociable place like Fashion Café Makati, the
first thing he seeks is higher ground.
From my vantage point by the railing of the second level of the
Fashion Café, I could see most of the main dining floor as well as
the stage which extended into a catwalk. Like busy black ants, the
service crews of Fashion Café scurried about, making final
preparations for the entry of the night's guests and, more
importantly, for the arrival of the evening's special host,
supermodel Claudia Schiffer. Miss Claudia Schiffer, said to be
"the most beautiful woman in the world," a statuesque vision of
Teuton descent with the perfect pout and eyelashes that could bat
away even the mightiest male mortal. Her face has graced magazine
covers, ads, posters and billboards all around the civilized world.
She managed to mesmerize master magician David Copperfield who is
now her fiance, much to the chagrin of a great many men.
Wow, I thought to myself. I'm going to meet a world power.
As I stood there waiting for the party to start, my mind strayed
back to when I received, much to my disbelief, this assignment.
"How would you like to do a story on Claudia Schiffer?" my editor
said. I eyed him incredulously and thought: what, you'll send me
abroad to cover some fashion event? "She's coming to Manila to open
Fashion Café." I don't remember now if I accepted the offer with a
cool, collected, professional response in the affirmative or an
immature yet honest "Are you kidding? Yes!" I'd rather it was the
former but I kind of doubt that.
The week passed quickly and soon the day was at hand. By this time
all my friends and colleagues knew about my cushy assignment thanks
in no small part to me (hey, you’d brag about something like this,
too). A photographer who had heard about it from my brother even
called the office leaving a message asking if he could join me.
Uh, sorry. I don’t think so.
I had my hair trimmed at the corner barber shop in order to look
"presentable." Upon the barber's recommendation I decided to let
male vanity rear its head by having a facial. This is probably the
first and last time I get to meet Claudia Schiffer so what the heck!
Get the darn facial! So, I leaned back and waited for the barber
to apply whatever it is barbers apply on your face. I was rudely
awakened to the fact that facials aren't as simple as that.
With what felt like a cattle prod, the barber began digging into my
face, removing, according to him, "dirt from your pores." That hurt
like hell. But what was I to do? Complain? That would be like
admitting I was lost by asking a bystander for directions.
I gritted my teeth and kept quiet, waiting patiently for the ordeal
to end.
And, when it ended, I found that the cattle prod had left ugly red
welts on my face. Exactly what I needed.
After having my press kit autographed by Miss Schiffer I made my way
outside the Fashion Café to place it in my car. Several meters from
the enormous camera lens entrance a trash receptacle was billowing
smoke. Some moron had probably tossed his cigarette in without
making sure it was extinguished. Still filled with a heady feeling
from shaking Miss Schiffer’s hand and getting her autograph I
immediately sought out a security guard. Spiffy in my suit and
acting like the big shot that I wasn’t, I told the first guard I
found to send a maintenance crew to put out the fire before it
spread or the sprinklers went off. And he did. And that’s how I
saved Claudia.
By now, the guests had started to file in, entering through the
doorway shaped in the likeness of a gigantic camera lens. Soon, the
main dining floor was full of Makati's bright and beautiful, all
dressed up in finery and class. Where was Miss Schiffer, I thought,
as I scanned the room for any sign of her. "She's on her way," host
Mari Kaimo announced. I wrote down two questions to be asked during
the press conference on cards given to me by my editor and handed
them back to him. My eyes wandered to the seats where we had left
our coats.
Speaking of coats, the strangest item of clothing you can find in my
closet was that coat. I’ve never had much use for formal wear so
having a hound’s tooth coat among my ragged denims and tee shirts
seemed so alien. Right before the affair I was faced with a dilemma:
to wear my coat or my barong tagalog. My barong is the strangest
item of clothing I own, though I do not place it inside my closet.
Designed with the word "costume" in mind, it is knee length, has a
Chinese collar and fades from dark to light green. It looks fabulous,
or so I convince myself every time I use it. If I wear the barong,
Miss Schiffer might notice it. If she does and says so, I would
take it off and present it to her as a gift from the Filipino people.
In my infantile mind I could see "Writer Gives Schiffer Shirt Off
His Back" in bold letters on every newspaper’s society page.
Reality, however, is never quite that fantastic. As Charlie Brown
once said, "my head is hot and stupid." I opted to wear the coat.
"Here she is: Miss Claudia Schiffer!" boomed Mari Kaimo’s voice,
and the members of the Philippine Press, myself included, strained
our necks over the railing to get a better view. "Miss Claudia
Schiffer!" Kaimo repeated and in she walked, not through the main
door but through the parking lot skywalk. She proceeded to the
entrance to cut the ribbon and commence the party. With all the
flashbulbs going off, it was difficult to get a good look at her
from a distance. What struck me immediately was that she was very
tall and very white. As she made her way to the second level for
the press conference, all the reporters and photographers took their
places, some jostling for a better seat. I had strategically
positioned myself beside the aisle and was about a foot away from
her as she passed.
With Jullie Yap-Daza moderating, Claudia (as in "cloud") answered
questions on Fashion Café, the fashion industry, the inevitable
questions on Gianni Versace, even if she could now do magic tricks
("Well, not in front of you guys."). "How do you feel about nude
pictures of you circulating on the Internet?" Hey, that was my
question!
"All the nude photos that exist of me are unauthorized photos that
the paparazzi have taken, whom I have done lawsuits against," she
replied. Unfortunately, laws regarding the Internet still have to
be defined. "There are no real rules yet, so that’s pretty
difficult to catch."
My second question was also asked: what is your greatest
unfulfilled goal in life? "I would love to have more time for my
friends, and be able to stay in one place and not be moving all the
time, to not have to unpack all my luggage all the time. I would
love that. And then also one day, when I’m a little bit older,
I would love to spend more time towards charities, organizations
which help breast cancer (patients), sick children, or AIDS, or
anything like that."
The thirty minutes allotted for the press conference passed by
quickly. The last question was answered, and Miss Schiffer walked
off the platform surrounded by huge bodyguards. As she walked down
the aisle, a thought occurred to me: walang mangyayari sa’yo kung
tumayo ka lang diyan(You won’t get anywhere if you just stand there,
stupid ["stupid" mine]). My hand shot past the menacing
barrel-chested German escort, palm exposed in a gesture of
friendship. Miss Claudia Schiffer took my hand, smiled at me and
uttered four words to me I shall never forget. "Hi, how are you?"
And she was gone. I grinned a silly grin at my editor and waved my
hand at him.
From the stage I could hear Mari Kaimo asking Miss Schiffer to do
her famous catwalk. "Sorry, this is my day off," Miss Schiffer
answered. That made her four words to me all the more sweet,
don’t you think?
Head in the Clouds Over Claudia
How I Saved Claudia Schiffer Without Her Knowing It
Get your own Free Home Page