Chari Legarda: Surf’s Up

Although she might not be a Brian Wilson “California Girl,” Chari Legarda is nonetheless a local babe born of our native shores and the Batangas sun. No matter where you are, the eternal summer starts here. Words by Max Eigenmann

Chari Legarda walks into the apartment sporting a baby blue statement tank top. It reads: “Love is Blonde.”

I had to laugh. “Isn’t it supposed to be blind?”

Of course, we didn’t start the interview just yet (there were other things to talk about first). It was only around the time that we had stuffed ourselves with steamed shrimp dumplings and red wine that we segued into talking about the article. Unorthodox, I know… But then again that was when it started to get just a little more fun than usual.

I’ll say this: Chari is probably the only girl I know who can kick a guy’s ass without even trying. Growing up with mostly boys—or girls who were like boys—it was very competitive. “We’d play street hockey until somebody cried. Then the game would be over.” Judging from the way she laughed after she said this, it was obvious that she was never the one who cried after a game. Which most definitely suggests that she was one of those “girls who were like boys.” That would maybe explain how effortlessly she opens a beer bottle using the flat end of a lighter.

As long as I’ve known her she has always been sunburnt. This isn’t surprising. Most of her younger years, if not all, were spent with her very many cousins. “We were each other’s barkada… and our playground would be our grandparents’ compound by the beach in Nasugbu.” She remembers the fishing trips her dad would take her to. She vividly describes her six-year-old self—waddling her legs and arms under water to keep her neck on the surface of the sea to keep breathing. Apparently their fishing boat would capsize and Chari would have to wait patiently for her dad to turn it over because the shore was just way too far a swim. In fact, her first surf story does not include a trainer or any sort of supervision at all. All it took was a board, guts and endless paddling. She refers to that day as beginner’s luck.

Future Days: Bianca Gonzalez

Article by Mihk Vergara

It’s twenty-five years on after 1984. Some may argue that we’re already living in Orwell’s dystopia where ‘Big Brother’ is not so much watching us as we are watching everyone else. In fact, on some sites on the Internet you can pay for the pleasure of viewing images of a boot stamped on a human face―if not forever then at least until your credit runs out. But “doublethink” the situation and it isn’t all that bad: especially if it’s perhaps the lovely host of Pinoy Big Brother Bianca Gonzalez who’s watching and wearing those leather boots.

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Bully for You // Ornusa Cadness in UNO’s October ‘09

Bully For You
an alternate editors note from RJ Ledesma

If the schoolyard adage “Knowledge is Power” holds any weight, then Washington “Wash” SyCip is the undisputed heavyweight of the schoolyard.

Wash—born in China, reared in the Philippines, and sworn in as an American citizen—has always been ever so familiar with the sweet science of success: He graduated college in two years at the age of seventeen with an accounting degree from the University of Santo Tomas (UST) summa cum laude. He began teaching at UST while also earning his master’s degree at his alma mater. Although Wash passed the Certified Public Accountants (CPA) exam at age 18, he was too young to receive his license to practice (You can be old enough to turn your liver into a punching bag, but not old enough to balance books, go figure) so he opted to pursue his doctorate in Columbia University.

While working on his dissertation, Wash’s studies were rudely interrupted by history: Pearl Harbor and Clark AirBase were bombed. When his father, Albino (yes, Albino) was arrested by the Japanese, he joined the Second Filipino Infantry Regimen of the U.S. Armed Forces. Although Wash wanted to fight on the front lines, he was told that he was overqualified for infantry work (read: he was too damn smart), so he was put to better use in the U.S. Armed Forces as a Japanese language code breaker out of a squadron stationed in India (Did I mention he had to learn Japanese first before taking on the intelligence work).

After the end of World War II, Wash returned to Manila and was enthused over the great opportunities that arose for the country’s reconstruction efforts. Bucking the trend of joining the big British-owned accounting firms of the time, Wash established his own firm. “Those firms were all Caucasians, and they had a fairly general policy that partners were Caucasians. From my viewpoint, I was as good as anyone and should not be subjected to discrimination in my own country.”

So, on the fifth floor of he Trade and Commerce Building in Binondo, Manila, Washington SyCip put up his shingle (“W. Sycip & Co.”) in March 1946, and the rest is business history.

Along with his longtime friend Alfredo M. Velayo, the firm was renamed SyCip, Gorres & Velayo (SGV). By building on Wash’s principles of emphasizing merit, training and integrity (which is something the current administration needs to take remedial classes in) SGV – later the SGV Group – became the country’s biggest and most prestigious accounting and consulting firm. And, under Wash’s leadership, SGV became Asia’s largest accounting firm – he was responsible for the firm’s expansion into Taiwan, Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia. He was responsible for SGV’s partnership in 1985 with Arthur Andersen, one of the largest professional service organizations in the world (at that time).

SGV’s reputation as a firm has been so rock-solid in that managing partners and directors have been spirited away from the SGV to serve as technocrats over the past five administrations (and many of these technocrats have also left administrations that were not as rock-solid as they claimed to be). Meanwhile, Wash continues to be on a first name basis with the leaders of big business, including the Lopezes, Ayalas, Sys, Tys, del Rosarios, Gokongweis, Aboitizes, Gotianuns, Tans, Cosetengs, Sorianos, Cojuangcos, Kuoks, Delgados, Yuchenghocs Uytengsus, Yangs, Chiongs, Roxases and many others. And Wash is probably one of the few men who can bring together the country’s top political, economic, society and cultural elite on one table for a reasonably quiet dinner. And perhaps a good bottle of scotch.

Wash has been retired since 1996. But that doesn’t stop him from coming to office everyday at 6:30 am. Or from continuing to serve as the Honorary Consul of Austria to the Philippines. Or from being a fashion model for couture barong-makers Silk Cocoon. From still being. Or from being a big fan of the transvestite performers at Club Mwah. Really.

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I blame pop culture for all of my conditioned fears. I blame the movie Jaws for my perennial fear of swimming by myself even in a kiddie-sized pool for fear that a 40-foot great white shark might just appear and turn me into lunch. I blame the move The Changeling for my fear of bathtubs because I might see a dead boy floating inside the tub. But for my biggest fear—the fear of sleeping by myself with the lights closed—is because of Freddie Aguilar.

When I was about four years old, I remember watching a (sort of) music video of Freddie Aguilar’s song Anak. The music video featured the drawing of a giant eating little boys. To my 4-year old mind, this image was terror epitomized, and I could not sleep with lights closed because the image of that toddler-eating giant would replay itself in my mind’s eye. I have not had a good night’s sleep for the past 31 years. Thank God for night-lights and (now) my wife.

Unfortunately, no amount of lighting or spooning can make me any less frightened reading the stories in Yvette Tan’s first collection of short fiction, Waking The Dead. The award-winning fictionist was one of the names we named in our ’52 Women On Top’ list in our June issue. Her recently released book, which features a fair amount of monsters (both mythical and the all too real), certainly marks her out as one of the dark stars of Philippine literature. For that reason we’ve asked her to guest-edit our October issue—only fitting given that we celebrate the pagan heresies of Halloween this month. Who better guide to the season than a lovely and talented witch like Tan? (Anybody who reads her prose knows there’s some black magic at work there; and, not very long ago, at least one of the stories in her book would’ve easily gotten figuratively “burned at the stake” if not realistically incarcerated.)

So, set aside your Necronomicons for a while, and peruse UNO’s October issue. Turn up the lights then, don’t be selfish. You want those around you—even in your seemingly empty room—to see the pictures properly.

Ciara Marasigan: Let Them Eat Cake

Article By Aldus Santos

“Let them eat cake,” Marie Antoinette was rumored to have said once in response to complaints that the peasants she lorded over “had no more bread.” Pretty damn cold, I know. However, this was never established, and Jean-Jacques Rosseau must have been smoking something, or he was alluding to an entirely different person. The point I’m trying to make is that a luxurious life is a distorted reality, if reality was to be seen in terms of universal nakedness: that, underneath all the ruffles and pearls (or ironic “message” T-shirts and slim-fit denims, to the contemporary world), it’s all genitalia. Robert Zimmerman also said something to this effect in “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”: “Even the president of the United States must sometimes have to stand naked.” In fleeting moments, however—when one shrugs off the crassness and occasional insensitivity—people like Marie Antoinette are walking canvases that are just amazing to look at.
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Tanya Yuquimpo: Cat Power

For someone who supposedly takes a while to open up to people, former Kitty Girl Tanya Yuquimpo is remarkably up front with UNO about art, music, style and how men should act.

By Jessie Grinter

Things rarely, if ever, go according to plan. Someone is always getting called in to tinker with the script. Extend the chorus. Add a bridge. Whatever.

“Yeah, I left the Kitty Girls about a month ago. I didn’t think it was about the music anymore.”

That’s right. Tanya Yuquimpo is flying solo, and loving it.

We meet at the lovely Attivo restaurant in Makati. Stereotypes and preconceptions disintegrate as we share lunch and discuss everything under the sun. The revelations and revolutions keep on spinning.
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Gretchen Fullido: Miss Deeds

Bending over backwards to give us the news, Gretchen Fullido is a welcome sight even when she’s telling us to get ready for heavy weather. At a time when everything is becoming reality TV, this broadcasting siren may be a talking head, but she doesn’t need a Teleprompter to have the first and last say.

Words by Chip Childers

“I guess I’m just passionate about my work. I think that someone who isn’t passionate about this job would rather just jump off a cliff than have to deal with this schedule….” I didn’t need any more convincing from Gretchen Fullido on this point.
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Ellen Adarna: Impossible Princess

Mythical yet mundane, innocent yet sensual, accessible yet elusive: presenting Ellen Adarna, as you’ve never seen her before.

Words by Luis Katigbak
Illustrations by Lala Gallardo

Ellen is laughing, her laugh reflected in a crowd of bright blue balloons. Ellen is reclining, leaning back on an unusually shaped armchair, kicking her bare white feet up. Ellen is biting her lower lip, and looking at you.

Do you remember when you first saw her? Perhaps you saw her on the cover of a magazine, wearing slightly less clothing than would be polite in public, her little glossy mouth slightly open, her eyes steadily staring straight outwards, not accusing or inviting exactly, but speaking silently of the possibility of contact. But more likely you opened an email or ran a search online, and followed a link; it was like falling through a hole into a world of images, touching down abruptly on a field of thumbnails, each tiny picture a portal to its larger self, picture after picture of Ellen Adarna, a network of tribute, of Ellen to the infinite power.

Ellen Adarna was born and raised in Cebu, but she says “I’ve been in and out of Manila since I was two―my grandma and my parents used to bring me there a lot since we had an office there.” Speaking of family, she has four brothers: “I’m the only girl, I grew up with boys, so pretty much I was more of a boy during my childhood years.” Ellen as a tomboy, Ellen as rough-and-tumble―it is not easy, though definitely fun, to imagine. Her brothers apparently “don’t care at all” about her fame, internet-based or otherwise. “No one in my family cares about it, at all,” she asserts. “It’s a good thing for me ’cause I only do it for fun.”

Last year, she lived in Manila for about five months. She describes the experience as “dramatic,” and will not explain further.

You saw her once, in person. It was at a party in Makati, the launch of the second issue of a fashion and culture magazine. A band was playing; there was an exhibition of clothing designs; she was among the people who were milling around outside the bar. She was smaller than you imagined, and did not have the aura that you always assume famous people possess. You toyed with the idea of introducing yourself then, and had to remind yourself: You don’t know her.

Ellen claims that she’s not into sports. She used to do gymnastics, though, for three years. “At first artistic, then rhythmic gymnastics.” She can still do cartwheels: “That’s the only thing I can do now.” She also used to ice skate. When asked about how she keeps in shape now, she responds gleefully, “I love to dance! That’s my only exercise.”

An excerpt from the July 2009 issue of UNO Magazine. Still available in newsstands, folks!

Lorraine Lapus: Rid Of Me

Photo by Shawn Yao
Hair & Make Up by Tatin Yang

To be in awe of the sea, to be aware of its terrible beauty is to acknowledge its violence. It has lead many men to their deaths as much as it’s inspired them. Much like the women we fall in love with—the ones we’d readily take and do damage for—we’re as much in thrall with the prospect of skimming its surface as much as drowning in its depths. It’s no coincidence that Hemingway referred to the sea as a woman.

Consider then Lorraine Lapus—the first Filipina to be certified as a surf instructor in the Philippines. “I caught my first wave alone and I just fell in love on the spot,” she says. Spending most of her time at the Philippine Surfing Academy, working both as an instructor and head-of-marketing at the school, she says she “just love(s) being in the water, soaking in all the wonderful senses that nature provides you. It’s the best feeling being alone and challenging yourself. Alone time is good every now and then.” In the near future, she hopes to own her own little corner of earth and set up camp there.  That is, of course, after she’s traveled enough.

Transformer: Celine Lopez

Amidst the marketing madness, depraved cattiness, and pseudo-sexual hipsters of the fashion world, Celine Lopez stands apart from everyone as a true original; a class act who knows exactly what to wear to all-tomorrow’s parties.

Words: Erwin Romulo
Styling: Shanani Gania
Hair: Vianney Guese
Photos: Juan Caguicla
Photography Assitants: Noi Agarin & Waway
Sittings Editor: Denise Mallabo
Editorial Assistant: France Pinzon

“Evil is organic. The fight against it is what makes us human.” Celine Lopez has just come back from Delhi. Meeting up with her, it isn’t long—five minutes probably—before the conversation turns to the usual things: sickness, art, politics, fascists, Bowie, pornography, and the devil—the dark stuff. The remark was her answer to the question if she thought evil existed. It seemed apt only because it was also posed to both Barack Obama and John McCain during the last US election. If it’s good enough for presidential candidates, then it was good enough to ask Celine. In fact, for the brevity and wit alone, she gets my vote.

We’ve known each other for several years now, actually. Both of us had columns in The Philippine Star: she was its new rising star, and I was its resident ogre. She wrote about fashion and going out while I styled myself a hoodlum critic. While she was (I imagined) hobnobbing, I was busy cultivating my being a snob.

I disliked her, of course.
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The Miseducation of Maggie Wilson

While other girls her age went off to college to become nurses, accountants or pre-school teachers, Margaret Nales Wilson opted for a different kind of education‚ how to be herself. And like any regular undergraduate course, it took her around four years to go from punk rock girl to beauty queen to one of today’s hottest TV personalities.

Words by Dexter Canete
Photography by Juan Caguicla
Styled by Bea Ledesma
Make Up by Jigs Mayuga for L’Oreal Paris
Hair by Vianney Guese

Now a tough and smart 20-year-old with the poise and confidence of a 30-year-old, she gives us a summary of what she has learned by being bold, crazy and basically doing what she wants to do.

What Age Requirements?

Maggie first learned how to ignore age requirements when she joined the MTV VJ Hunt. Though she impressed MTV, she didn’t get the job because she was then only 15, three years short of the minimum age requirement.

But the music channel liked her so much that when she was about to turn 18, they‚ like the proverbial 20-year-old boy waiting in the car with her girlfriend on the eve of her eighteenth birthday‚ called her and asked her if she wanted to VJ for them. ‘It was kinda cool because they hired me without even asking me to do an audition,’ Maggie says.

Now with MTV Philippines for three years, she says its the job where she doesn’t feel like she’s working. ‘I love it. Seriously.’ And despite the occupational hazards, like going to concerts, parties and out-of-town events‚ and being paid for it‚ she hopes to be in the job for a few more years.

Maggie is one of our bombshell ladies gracing the insides of the new UNO fresh from the press. If you check out the stands, you will notice that the magazine is significantly bigger than its predecessor with a glossy paper stock and embossed front cover. For more photos of Maggie Wilson and the full article, check out the latest issue now available in bookstores and magazine stands.

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