I stopped seeing my own city
I stopped looking at Manila a while ago. Not on purpose. You live somewhere long enough and it turns into a backdrop, all commute and errands and places you pass but never enter. But last month, two invitations put me back on my feet across the city, and I started seeing it again.
The walk that started at zero
Birkenstock launched a campaign called “The Philippines by Foot” with the Department of Tourism, and I spent the night at The Henry Hotel Manila, where most of it was based. The next morning, we left the hotel for the first walk, which began at Kilometer Zero in Rizal Park. I was happy to go. Luneta is not somewhere I pass often, and it turns out I had never really walked it.
The morning was bright and hot. The old trees kept us in shade most of the way, and the wind came off Manila Bay. Everyone in the group was in a good mood, which made the heat easy to ignore. The sun was strong, and I never reapplied my sunscreen, a tinted Tizo3 primer my dermatologist and family friend Dr. Windie Villarica put me on. It lasted. I stopped thinking about my skin and paid attention to where I was.
We had a tour guide, and I would tell anyone going to Luneta to get one. Kilometer Zero is a small marble marker across from the Rizal Monument, and every road distance in the country is measured from it. He walked us to the Gomburza marker and told us the part I keep repeating to people: When those three priests were executed in 1872, it pushed Filipinos toward the anger that became the 1896 revolution, and that is why the country still remembers them. Then he took us to the spot where Rizal was shot. A brass tableau by Eduardo Castrillo sets the scene, down to the dog at the edge of it. On my own, I would have walked right past it.
Luneta has a Chinese Garden and a Japanese Garden. I did not know that. The Chinese Garden has a moon gate, koi ponds, and pagodas. The Japanese one beside it is calmer, with a lake and a bridge.
Back at The Henry
We returned to the hotel for the rest of it, and Panaderya Toyo made some wonderful snacks. Activities filled the halls: a tote bag station, photo spots, and a foot measuring station. The room was built around portraits of Filipino Birkenstock wearers, from Apo Whang-Od to chef Jordy Navarra, the same shoe worn into completely different lives. It is a good case, and the shoes make it.
I spent real time at the foot measuring station, because I did not want to guess. Birkenstock sizing runs its own way, and I wanted a pair I could keep for years, fitted to my actual foot. I got mine the Arizona Big Buckle in EVA, in a color called Eggshell. The EVA version is a light piece, water-resistant and washable, so I already know it is going straight to the beach and into my everyday rotation. The Eggshell goes with most of what I own and lifts an outfit instead of fading into it. And the footbed does the thing Birkenstock is known for: taking the shape of your foot and staying there.
The pair I keep reaching for
The other invitation came from stylist Sidney Yap, who brought me to meet Flabelus. The brand is Spanish, and every pair is sewn by hand in Spain. I had been noticing the shoes on the most stylish women I know, and one look told me why.
I got the Mary Janes in Lucrecia, a deep burgundy velvet with a buckle. Velvet in Manila heat sounds wrong until you wear it. If it suits the outfit and survives the day, it works here, and that is why these shoes have caught on. They go with most of what I own, and carry me from day to night. I have worn them across the city and over long stretches on foot without complaint. A shoe this pretty rarely takes that kind of mileage. A few of the ladies in my family have pairs of their own now, so I get to match with them, which is half the fun. They already have a permanent spot in my luggage for anywhere that is not cold or wet.
The room that day felt light. Shoes lined up like a paint box, clothes on the racks, and locally made furniture that lifted the whole space. Yap walked me through his favorites. Flabelus paired the pop-up with Sari Lazaro Studio, a Filipino label. They are beautiful, chic in a modern Filipina way I want more of. I met Bea Nazareno, who runs the brand here. She wants Flabelus to sit naturally in the Filipino wardrobe, and she loves working with Filipino designers across fashion and furniture. I come from the Jul B. Dizon jewellery family, so hand-work is the first thing I look for, and I can tell when a maker cares. The pop-up has since closed, but the shoes are online, and there is more coming from them this year. Most definitely worth keeping an eye on.
What the walking left me with
Since Luneta, I have taken visiting family around Manila and could finally tell them what they were looking at. That felt good. It also bothered me. We send gorgeous work abroad, like the Philippine pavilion at the Osaka Expo, then let our own heritage sites at home sit below that standard. I am not being harsh for the sake of it. I know what we can do, and Filipinos deserve to be impressed by that here, not only when we are performing for everyone else.
So walk it. Get the guide, take the long way, look at the thing you have passed a thousand times. Do it in shoes that give you confidence and comfort. The Philippines is worth it.
A tour of Manila
Culture and heritage hotspots to check out
- National Museum Complex – near Rizal Park, it comprises the central museums: National Museum of Fine Arts, Anthropology, and Natural History
- Intramuros – the famed Walled City, home to Spanish colonial-era architecture
- Escolta St. – Known as the Queen of Streets, a hub of Manila’s many “firsts”
- Binondo – Eat your way through the oldest Chinatown in the world
