Photographed by Karl King Aguña for the October 2024 Issue of Vogue Man Philippines
Designer Bon Hansen Reyes is inspired by the life and art of Walterina Markova for his latest collection.
If you clicked play on a supercut of Bon Hansen Reyes’ childhood memories, you would register, almost immediately, multiple clips of him dancing. In one memory, he’s whirling around his college’s covered courts dancing the cha-cha, rumba, and jive, frequently placing second in dancesport competitions. In another, he’s swaying at home by his lonesome, wearing makeshift costumes fashioned from towels and blankets wrapped around his petite frame.
Describing himself as a flamboyant child, Bon was fascinated by the art of performance, from visuals to movements to costumes. It’s what drew him to Markova: Comfort Gay, a 2000 film about the devastating reality faced by a group of queer people during World War II. The titular character is Walterina Markova, born Walter Dempster Jr., and her five-person dance troupe who suffered years of abuse at the hands of Japanese soldiers.
The movie’s larger, more complex themes were admittedly lost on a young Bon, who was mesmerized by the group’s dance presentations. Dressed to the nines in embellished frocks and fully made-up beauty looks, the performers were what made the film shine for him then. As he watched Markova dancing freely, Bon thought, “That’s me.”
Revisiting the film as an adult, he found himself pondering its portrayal of growth and self-actualization. He acknowledges having a strong personality and strict demeanor (Bon credits the latter to a stint as a fashion school instructor) but confesses that “in real life, I’m kind of sentimental.” Resonating with Dempster’s eventual liberation from the constraints of growing up as a gay kid in the Philippines, the designer began to draw parallels between Markova’s life and his own, both on a personal and professional level.
The intricacies of their shared queer experience are what make Pagkatao, Bon’s new collection for Bench Fashion Week Holiday 2024. With the name directly translating to “Identity,” the assemblage is “about self-exploration, self-freedom.”
Propelled to the mainstream in 2019 after being named one of Bench Design Awards’ three winners, Bon has decidedly genderless collections that are characterized by a sense of deconstruction and fluidity. He finished as a finalist at TernoCon 2023, where his balintawak ensembles were crafted with suiting and shirting materials softened by tulle and hand embroidery. This meld of structured and soft, masculine and feminine has since become a signature. But recently, he found himself wondering if that was the extent of his creativity. “Can I [still] present something new?” he asked himself.
In reckoning with his brand’s identity, he turned to that of Markova’s: scenes of her waking up in lace-trimmed pajamas, twirling around in long skirts at parties, and kissing an American soldier on the beach, a sheer black neckerchief tied around her nape.
On the other hand, Pagkatao’s tailored pieces registered as skewed reimaginings of the Japanese’s military attire. There’s a long-sleeve shirt with billowing sleeves and a cinched waist, and an asymmetrical multi-paneled vest. Select garments are finished with hand-painted foliage and violent splatters; a representation, perhaps, of the ebbs and flows of Markova’s life.
Each piece was patterned, cut, sewn, and finished by Bon in his home studio in Cardona, Rizal. When he gets overwhelmed with work, he simply steps outside to a sprawling terrace with a cup of coffee and breathes in the fresh air. After concluding a seven-year teaching post at the Fashion Institute of the Philippines last year, this is how Bon has spent most of his time in the province. He also plays badminton three to four times a week, and credits the sport for keeping him sharp. When he returns from the court, he feels reenergized to sketch or sew. “It’s therapy,” he says. “Parang every single day ’pag naglalaro ako, excited ako magtrabaho pagbalik ng bahay. [It’s like every single day I play, I’m excited to work when I come home.]”
Apart from connecting with new people, the sport reintroduced him to a world beyond fashion. “It’s a different feeling when you have friends outside fashion that don’t talk about fashion,” he shares in Filipino. “It’s refreshing to hear different topics. It’s exciting to meet new people that aren’t designers, that aren’t creatives.”
That’s not to say that his two worlds don’t collide. His new friends, who fondly call him “Kuya Bon,” grew curious about his career to the point that they wanted to contribute to it. The painted pieces from his latest showcase? They were done by the same hands that swung at shuttlecocks just a few hours before.
This life of simple contentment was once unimaginable for Bon, who used to dream of becoming an internationally-renowned designer. Somewhat sheepishly, as though he thinks he should be ashamed, he admits that his dream has scaled down. All he wants now is to make clothes for his clients and spend more time with family and friends. “I want to be a designer [that] will do his creativity peacefully. On my own path, on my own rules. I just want to be happy with what I’m doing.”
These days, he looks inward, taking great pleasure in a leisurely pace. On the day of the fashion show, he invites us to experience it ourselves.
His models didn’t saunter down the runway. Instead, they took it slow, lithely gliding to the tune of Filipino ballads that sang of yearning and deep love. Their cheeks glistened with a single trail of sorrowful glitter tears. Somehow, they were mirrors of Bon and Markova at once: somber but assured, on a pilgrimage toward a self that was finally fully realized.
By TICIA ALMAZAN. Photographs by KARL KING AGUÑA. Editor and Stylist DANYL GENECIRAN. Makeup: Pam Robes. Hair: Mong Amado. Models: Eugene and Kensuke of Mercator. Production Design: Paul Jatayna. Producer: Julian Rodriguez. Production Designer’s Assistant: Bruce Venida. Designer’s Team: Arvin Maniulit, Ernan De Jesus.
