MANILA, Philippines ? It?s official. Ben Farrales, the Dean of Philippine fashion, will close his shop in Manila three years from now.

Born on July 1, 1932, the designer would be 80 years old by then.

"It's something I've long thought about," says Farrales. "I believe I have nothing more to prove. I've gotten almost everything I need in life. It's time to slow down and spend more time with my sons Cesar and Feliciano, and visit friends I haven't seen in a long time."

Farrales, who marked 50 years in fashion seven years ago, as Inquirer archives show, says he's not being melodramatic about his decision to leave the scene. But after attending to his clients' needs for more than half a century, the time has come for him to attend to himself. More so now, he says, that old age has caught up with him.

With unflinching candor, Farrales admits what has long been an open secret in the industry: his prostate has been making life difficult for him. Although his condition, he says, isn't "life threatening," there are days he wishes his health "could be better."

Apart from physical discomforts, it's the thought that he can't do as much as before that also pains the still mentally active and independently proud Farrales.

"Because of constant trips to the bathroom, there was a time when I had to be fitted with catheter," he says. "The problem was I sometimes forgot to lock it at night. There were times I would wake up in the morning to find my blanket all wet."

That was until his doctors recommended he wear adult diapers. Rather than slow down, Farrales, unmindful of the recurring pain and discomfort, dove deep into work, producing four gala fashion shows in less than a year.

Before 2009 is over, he will do two more solo shows. The first, organized by the Department of Foreign Affairs through the wives of foreign ambassadors, is on Sept. 8 at the Manila Polo Club.

Exactly a month after, he will share the stage with the Bayanihan Dancers in "Lines and Movements," a dinner show on Oct. 8 marking Hotel Intercontinental Manila's 40th year. Proceeds from both shows will go to charity.

Stern taskmaster

For Farrales, who has a reputation for being a stern disciplinarian and taskmaster, staging shows one after the other this late in his career is a matter of pride and form of therapy.

He'd like to leave a legacy, he says, to young designers by opening their "eyes and minds" to fashion's many possibilities. His work keeps him going.

Farrales works in his shop Monday to Saturday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., without fail. He's driven daily from his Makati home to his two-story Malate shop which has its own kitchen and bedroom.

"Whenever there are typhoons, coups and what have you, I sleep in my shop rather than miss work," he says. "I owe it to myself, my two boys and my team of 17 to keep the business going."

In return, Farrales expects everybody he deals with, from colleagues to his models, to be as devoted and as professional as he is. "I'm not a monster" out to terrorize everybody, he insists.

He's also known among fashion journalists for his keen memory and tendency to take less-than-glowing reviews a bit too personally.

Never late

"One never arrived late or unprepared for Ben's rehearsals and shows," says Jenny Peña, PR director of Hotel Intercon, and a former Farrales model. "You'd really get it from him. Although he's not the type to mince words, I've learned a lot from him and now appreciate what he instilled in us."

Even his fellow designers weren't spared. Farrales recalls the show they did in Seattle produced by the late Conching Sunico, a dear friend and one of his first patrons. It marked the opening of a world expo and the Needle, now one of the city's iconic landmarks.

He arrived on time for a photo shoot near a lagoon only to discover his colleagues were still sleeping soundly in their hotel rooms. Farrales grew impatient.

Rather than make a fuss, he took some of his colleagues' clothes from the rack and dropped them one by one on a platform inches away from the lagoon. Then he turned his back on the hapless wardrobe mistress and went shopping.

"It's never personal," he says. "I just want everybody I work with to act professionally. For models, it's a crime to be late because they're being paid to do their job. Regarding that incident in Seattle, we were there to promote the country and not to play games."

Long before counter-programming came into vogue, Farrales had already been practicing it through his conscious attempts to be different. He avoided beadwork in favor of draping and loose silhouettes, as seen in his Muslim-inspired creations.

"My colleagues and contemporaries like Pitoy [Moreno] and Aureo [Alonzo] are very good at beadwork, but it's not my style," he says. "When I found my own, it became like a tipping point that bridged a certain understanding between Muslims and Christians through clothes."

His fascination with Muslim finery started way before his teens when he and his mother lived in Mindanao to escape the war in Manila. Farrales' big sister, the late Aida Pendatun, was married to the late Salipada Pendatun, former Cotabato governor and Speaker of the House.

Civil relations

He'd rather keep mum about his relationship with Moreno and their rumored rift that dates back, believe it or not, to the days of the old Manila Chronicle. They remain civil, he says, whenever they bump into each other.

The most recent time they crossed each other's paths was a few months ago at Manila Doctors Medical Center. (Moreno, says Farrales, was seeing the same doctor as he.)

"We always say hi to each other, but the warmth isn't there anymore," he says.

After watching Inquirer Lifestyle's "Face Off" last month, former First Lady Imelda Marcos came up with the idea of producing a similar show, this time with the works of Moreno and Farrales. Aware of the controversy such a revived rivalry would generate, Farrales politely declined.

"It would have been different if we were three," he says. "The dynamics drastically change when you put two designers in a back-to-back show."

He'd be a hypocrite, he admits, not to get excited at the thought of being recognized as National Artist someday. But if such an honor would require "politicking" on his part, Farrales would rather not be part of it. He remains, from all indications, a gentleman of the old school.