The Lord of Pentacles

It is yet again time for the year-end outfits. I do this in alignment with our company’s Christmas and Thanksgiving party. This year’s theme is Boho, and I decided to go on a photoshoot in advance. Throughout the conception of this outfit, I have done a little bit of reading into what Boho is, how it started, what it represents, and what it stands for today. This may be seen as psychotic, but I always do this with the outfits I wear to big events like this one. I always ask myself the questions “are we going to make a statement with this look?” And often, like this one, the answer is yes.

Unlike last year’s masquerade ball where my outfit is a subtle statement against capitalism and its effects on our climate, this year’s outfit is just more of an exploration of myself, my ancestral heritage, and what form my spirituality could take as an agnostic. This year, I think I genuinely pushed the envelope and the limits to how ridiculous my outfits can go. After all, making statements unheard by a majority is just screaming into the void. This year, the goal is to have fun and look different—no more, no less.

As with most of my outfits, the concept doesn’t really start to form until I’ve found a garment that I feel strong creative force with. This time, I felt that with the scarves and the pants. These are pashmina scarves that I found in a mall here in the Philippines. These just scream Boho to me, and as soon as I touched the cloths of these scarves and realized they’re comfortable enough to wear on bare skin, the entire concept just materialized on its own in my mind’s eye. The concept: a queer witch. Since I felt disenfranchised from Christianity as a whole, I felt a calling towards the metaphysical, and dressing up as a witch just felt right to me.

A huge part of this concept was inspired by Lilia Calderu from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But also, a lot of this look was inspired by the fashion hippies wore in the 1960s. I also took inspiration from the fashion worn by Freddie Mercury, Prince, and David Bowie, as well as female artists from around the same time like Cindy Lauper and Cher. You might not see them exactly in these looks, but I hope you can feel their vibe.

Somewhere in the conception of this look, I got the idea of putting tattoo markings on the exposed parts of my body and my face. In a lot of entries in my moodboard, they wore tattoos. But which particular shapes should I put on? There are so many, and I didn’t just want to slap on a random sigil lest I disrespect whoever crafted it. So I went on a rabbit hole in search of the right symbols. I ended up going for the markings of Visayan Pintados as depicted in the Boxer Codex, a book compiled from around 1590 that details peoples, both Filipinos and foreigners alike, in the Philippines at the time.

I was concerned about appropriating this ancient culture, and if I am going to do it, I am going to do it with the utmost respect I can give it, even if I’m only inspired by them. So I went on another rabbit hole that led me to ask my aunt about our ancestry. I got reminded that my maternal grandfather hailed from Samar in Borongan. And that is quite a bit suprising to learn that the culture I am inspired by is actually (partly) a culture I belong to. I still had my doubts as I feel that I am too far removed from this culture that I might as well be foreign to it. But a friend chimed in and told me that perhaps this could be a good opportunity to be “less removed” from my culture. In summary, the markings on my face, while not direct recreations of the tattoos depicted in the codex, are heavily inspired by them.

I genuinely believe I am really pushing the envelope here (for myself, of course, not the society). This year, I have been focusing on dealing with the shame of being queer and another layer of shame that comes with staying in the closet for too long when everyone has been expecting you to be gay anyway. Originally, I thought I was going to come in drag. I thought, okay. I am ashamed of being seen as feminine, I gotta deal with that. So I’ll go as a woman. But it turns out I am not exactly brave enough to do that yet. So I took another form of shame—being ashamed of how my body looks—and dealt with that with this outfit.

I have been insecure with my body for most of my life. I am either too thin, too dark-skinned, had uneven skin tone, yellowed teeth, too curly, fat, unappealing, or had a body shape that was conventionally unacceptable (hence the wearing of corsets in previous years to achieve an illusion of an appealing shape). So I figured this year, I’m going to show skin. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes sense. After all, the event is going to be an outdoor one, and it practically calls for it. More than that, the entire outfit you see here, except the one where I am wearing a black shirt and the moss green pants, are made entirely of scarves. There is not a single thread sewn to keep these scarves together, only the beige belt I am wearing and a safety pin on the makeshift skirt I made out of the patterned scarf.

This is a high-risk-high-reward situation. I think I look good and I achieved the vision I had in mind. But of course, there’s always the fear of one of the fringes of the brown scarf getting caught on something and pulling the entire outfit apart, leaving me naked in front of everyone. And there’s also, as always, the fear that people might look at you funny and not take your outfit as seriously as you would want them to take it. That one I have learned to push to the back of my mind; this is an experiment, and if it fails it’s not the end of the world. You’re just seen as someone silly; who isn’t?

I have always had this fear around how other people see me. I keep seeking external validations, like being liked, or being famous, or winning the crown for being best dressed at a corporate party. I have started to think a lot about how this is too pathetic (that’s the self-awareness in me talking; I sometimes shut it down, he’s annoying). But at the same time, I crave an expression. I yearn for it. The art calls for me, and it doesn’t care what form it’s final take will be, just that I will give it a take. I do art in writing, in code, and in fashion. It is as unpolished as a beginner artisan’s carvings are, but its finale is not any more important than the soul and heart the artist put into it.

I fear that people see me as too much, an overacting bitch who thinks the world is centered around him, someone who feels like he’s a celebrity and acts like one. Or worse, they think I think I’m better than everyone. I do think I’m better than some, but there is grace in humility. I am aware of how ridiculous this pageantry I’m putting myself through is, and how delusional even going on a shoot and writing about it is. But this is what I should do, I feel like. It’s like when a beaver instinctively knows how to build dams and does it. A form of self-care and loving yourself is honoring your Creativity when it comes to you with ideas. She is a fickle mistress; do not dismiss her or she will never call to you again.