Category Archives: Love

Marc Coblen Launches The Breast Cancer Awareness Campaign with the Pink Ribbon Watch

Ann Puno, Liezl Martinez & Patty Betita wearing the Marc Coblen

Ann Puno, Liezl Martinez & Patty Betita wearing the Marc Coblen

Filipinos are very active when it comes to supporting a good cause and with October fast approaching, everyone is preparing for the Breast Cancer Awareness Month. During October, there are usually fun-runs, concerts, charity auctions, and medical missions to help facilitate check-ups and treatments for women who have breast cancer.


Though there are several means for people to help, there is still a lot of work that needs to be done in the Philippines. According to the Philippine Cancer Society, a staggering percentage of Filipinas have a difficult time paying for their treatment, while others are too nervous to continue with theirs. In fact, some Filipinas prefer to ignore the importance of an annual breast check-up and refuse to seek treatment once diagnosed with breast cancer. The Philippine Cancer Society espouses that there is a lack of awareness, access to treatment, but more importantly, the basic knowledge that breast cancer is curable.

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This is where Marc Coblen, a Dutch brand created by Jordy Cobelens, the same founder of the well-known timepiece TW Steel, comes in to create a change – and a fashionable one at that. Echoing the mantra, “it’s time to change,” Marc Coblen urges women to take a proactive stance against breast cancer and change their mindset about what it is and how to overcome it. In line with the Breast Cancer Awareness program, Marc Coblen has collaborated with the Philippine Cancer Society’s Best Dressed Women of the Philippines and Lucerne, to create a special edition watch called the Pink Ribbon Watch.” A generous portion of the proceeds of all Pink Ribbon Watch sales will be donated to the efforts and activities of the Philippine Cancer Society in providing consultation and treatment to women with breast cancer all over the country.

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The Pink Ribbon Watch showcases a 48mm pink Mother of Pearl face with a small Swarovski encrusted pink ribbon. The watch is encased in a Rose Gold finish steel case with pink baguette Swarovski crystals on its interchangeable bezel and uses a pink silicon interchangeable strap with a rose gold clasp.

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The special edition Marc Coblen Pink Ribbon Watch is exclusive to MASTERCARD and will retail at Php 15,000. In light of the partnership, all purchases will entitle the card holder with a white leather strap and a rose gold finish bezel inside a beautiful white leather watch box.

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Breast cancer survivors like Patty Betita, Ann Puno, and Liezl Martinez, have stepped up and embraced Marc Coblen’s campaign. They epitomize the several women out there who were diagnosed with breast cancer, but emerged victorious. With all of these strong and beautiful women, they share that the best way to combat cancer is to have the right attitude.

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“Breast cancer at its earliest stage is curable,” Patty said, “That’s why it’s important for women to have themselves checked and have their annual mammograms and sonograms because if you detect it early, there’s a 98% chance of survival.” She shared that when she first found out that she had breast cancer, she was in shock. It was one of those things, she said, that you didn’t think could happen to you. “Once you are diagnosed with breast cancer, you are faced with your own mortality,” Patty said. But she found strength in her family, friends, and her unwavering faith in God. She emphasized that it has to be a conscious decision to fight the disease, and to make an educated lifestyle change. “For every cancer survivor, everyday you wake up is a new day,” she said, “Be hopeful, have faith, and you’ll be okay.”

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For Liezl, she stressed the importance of finding ways to cope. “There are a lot of support groups out there, if you’re interested in joining,” Liezl said. For her, though, she wasn’t comfortable with being open about it in the beginning. It varies with each person, but she encouraged women to listen to their inner voice and find strength in their lives, whether it be in their family, or their friends. Although she had a chance to go to another country to seek treatments, she sought to undergo treatments in the Philippines instead. “Part of my recovery is to have my family and friends near me,” she said, “I think that’s really important.”

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Ann Puno shared these sentiments, and also said that more often than not, overcoming cancer is also in the mind. “The most important thing is to be positive,” she said, “Cancer cells feed on negative feelings.” Ann kept herself strong through the power of prayers, and by surrounding herself with the people she loved most. At times, what also kept her going was the knowledge that other people were praying for her to recover, too.

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Patty, Liezl, and Ann, all emphasize the importance of early detection. They also said that above anything else, women should start effecting changes in their lives. Even if a woman is at the pink of health today, these three women advise that it’s always best to still keep annual check-ups on their list of priorities.

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“I think that it’s truly time to change,” Ann said, “It’s time to change the way we look at cancer, and we have to stop being fearful in getting check-ups because they mean so much to a cancer patient.” These women have beat down cancer, and urge other women to help each other and build a supportive community. For them, it’s all about recognizing the time to change – and that the best time to do so, is now.


Fashion Ate The Lawyer


(Photos by: Dens Fabro)

Marc Coblen’s local retail partner in the Philippines, Lucerne, will handle the sale of the Pink Ribbon Watch in all Marc Coblen points-of- sales, namely: Marc Coblen Pop-up store at Century City Mall, Lucerne Shangri-La, Swissgear (Greenbelt 1 & SM Cebu) and Wristpod (Megamall, Clark, Rockwell)

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MELANCHOLIA: Kaye Morales Holiday 2014 Photo Story




I can only do what I know. I can only create from what I feel.

And when sadness has taken hold of your heart and floods it, the only way to escape the drowning is to express it. Expression is a way to breathe whilst submerged in the ebbs and flow of sorrow.

I realize that the only way to defeat sadness is to embrace it, to let it envelop your being. If you don’t want it to overwhelm, you have to befriend it. You must understand it and know it’s intricacies.

This is what I’ve come to know:

Sadness is black. It is what is left when all the other colors are muted. It is the shade of emptiness when reflection dies.

Sadness is a force and it comes in irregular insistent waves. It folds the fabric of your being into irregular shapes, pleated like a scar or crumpled like a wound. Sadness is both gentle and unrelenting; the texture is sometimes soothing, sometimes rough, but always on the edge of something desperate.

And when you have come to know sadness, it becomes pleasing. Sadness becomes a friend. It becomes alive. Thus, sadness becomes Melancholia. Sadness becomes beautiful.





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FASHION by Kaye Morales
STYLING by Janno Styles
ASSISTED BY Ronan Espadero
MODELS ( ELITE MANILA ) Shao Trinidad I Dasha and Gustavo Krier
HEADPIECES BY Jake Tabudlo and Tony Evan




Fashion Ate The Lawyer

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by Haruki Murakami

One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo’s fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.

Tell you the truth, she’s not that good-looking. She doesn’t stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn’t young, either – must be near thirty, not even close to a “girl,” properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She’s the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there’s a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.

Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl – one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you’re drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I’ll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.

But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can’t recall the shape of hers – or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It’s weird.

“Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl,” I tell someone.

“Yeah?” he says. “Good-looking?”

“Not really.”

“Your favorite type, then?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to remember anything about her – the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts.”


“Yeah. Strange.”

“So anyhow,” he says, already bored, “what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?”

“Nah. Just passed her on the street.”

She’s walking east to west, and I west to east. It’s a really nice April morning.

Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and – what I’d really like to do – explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.

After talking, we’d have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.

Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.

How can I approach her? What should I say?

“Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?”

Ridiculous. I’d sound like an insurance salesman.

“Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?”

No, this is just as ridiculous. I’m not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who’s going to buy a line like that?

Maybe the simple truth would do. “Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me.”

No, she wouldn’t believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you’re not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I’d probably go to pieces. I’d never recover from the shock. I’m thirty-two, and that’s what growing older is all about.

We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can’t bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She’s written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she’s ever had.

I take a few more strides and turn: She’s lost in the crowd.

Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.

Oh, well. It would have started “Once upon a time” and ended “A sad story, don’t you think?”

Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.

One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.

“This is amazing,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you’re the 100% perfect girl for me.”

“And you,” she said to him, “are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I’d pictured you in every detail. It’s like a dream.”

They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It’s a miracle, a cosmic miracle.

As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one’s dreams to come true so easily?

And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, “Let’s test ourselves – just once. If we really are each other’s 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we’ll marry then and there. What do you think?”

“Yes,” she said, “that is exactly what we should do.”

And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.

The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other’s 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season’s terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence’s piggy bank.

They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.

Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don’t you think?

Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her.

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