Mom’s obsessions By Sara O. Siguion-Reyna Philippine Daily Inquirer First Posted 21:05:00 08/07/2008
MANILA, Philippines—My mother, Bibeth Orteza, has a peculiar trait when it comes to material obsession. It isn’t the same as being obsessed with many material things; it’s more that she finds one particular object to have a fixation on.
What is strange is her ability to choose obsessions in which she has had no previous interest. When I was younger it was the garden. Our garden had always been as normal as a garden could be, with shrubs here and there, a potted plant, a few healthy trees, and grass. Then suddenly my mom woke up with this newfound appreciation of the finer parts of gardening.
Suddenly everything was being dug out, and replaced. What was once a nondescript shrub was now a thriving Kalachuchi tree; that old fern by the gate was now a rosebush; and sprawling on the walls was a rich ivy, so different from the dead cluster of plants that once surrounded the perimeter.
She didn’t just involve the garden in the makeover; she tried to make sure we would have fun as well. One of my best memories as a young girl is going with her, my aunts and uncles and a family friend on a road trip to Bulacan.
We spent the whole day trawling through garden nurseries, smelling this and that, she asking me my opinion (I remember wanting pink, for every flower), and beaming with pride as the new plants found a home in the garden (even if I didn’t get my wish of all, pink).
Graduating to shoes
Eventually, she lost interest in the garden. She eventually graduated to shoes.
My mother is possibly even more uniformed than the Soviets in her choice of clothes. Going out, she wears a long-sleeved polo, jeans, and a Longchamp bag swinging over her shoulder.
The color and the design of her choices might change from day to day, but the basics, the polo-and-jeans-and-bag are always there. But this time, she decided to whole-heartedly embrace heels.
Heels
High heels, low heels, pumps, platform sandals, no décor (preferred), with décor (not so much), leather, snakeskin … the heels bombarded her closet for about a year.
Remember what I said about the garden, having no previous interest in plants? She had no previous interest in the heels as well. Her only use for heels might have been for a dinner, but even then it was rare, because it was usually the ubiquitous Keds, or flat sandals that she would have worn to meetings, or the occasional rally (there were lots of them).
I enjoyed the heels as well, because this was the time when Girl Power, Spice Girls-induced fervor was spreading across the globe. If I couldn’t be one of them, I could borrow my mom’s shoes and at least pretend to be them, couldn’t I?
Now the thing about her obsessions was that once she lost interest, there was no going back, or going to anything new that resembled a previous point of interest.
The garden was never revisited (it didn’t resemble its former, boring, self, but it stayed the same from when she last touched it), so my family thought the shoes would go the same way. But they didn’t. She left the heels, yes, but she moved on to another form of footwear: boots.
New obsession
It didn’t matter which type (though she drew the line at hooker boots), they were all welcomed to her shoe rack. The heels were given away (some to me, though I’d start wearing them only years later) to make way for flat boots, high boots, cowboy boots of every conceivable color, covered in sequins or snakeskin, worn for every occasion for everyone’s eyes to see. Since this obsession has never ended, I’m pretty sure when she was arrested with Trillanes & Co., she was wearing boots.
Many an economist has theorized that miniskirts act as a barometer to a country’s economic strength. I theorize that my mother’s choice of boots acts as an accurate representation of the Philippine economy. It’s been ages since she wore the bright red cowboy boots, or the one with sequins; this complies with the oil and rice shortage.
Because she is against the current president, it is unlikely we will see the gold pair in public (the last time she wore these, my dad remarked, “Now I know how it feels like to be married to Kuya Germs.”) until 2010.
Though she is no Imelda Marcos fan, she is Imeldific in style. As of writing, her boots add up to 50 pairs. But that’s still a lot: when we moved to the new house, much like Mr. Big had no choice but to design for Carrie a bigger closet in the “Sex and the City” movie, my dad had to design for my mother a bigger shoe rack for the boots. I doubt there will ever be a day when the boots stop walking.
Copyright 2008 Philippine Daily Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
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