A few days ago, I tried to clear my head and calm my nerves by walking around my home mall (if I could call it that), and I wore a white short-sleeved buttoned shirt with subtle dot patterns, slim-fit black pants, and Palladium black boots. Even if my mind feels noisy, I need to look good.
Then, I passed by a group of people, and I heard a comment that hurt my feelings to the core:
Pangit naman, kahit pogi pumorma.
And no, I’m not going to rant about them; that would be going down their level. Tonight, I just want to share how hurt I am, and then some.
I grew up not getting many compliments about my looks (well, except from family). I don’t have the face of a matinee idol. I still don’t. I was skinny as hell. I got so many “dark skin” jokes through the years (though now I laugh about those myself and I’m in on the joke, too). And for a few years, I gained an amount of weight that would make Scott Steiner scream, “HE’S FAT!”
Then I started paying less attention to my imperfections that I can’t change, and tried to improve the things I could improve. I started taking care of myself more seriously (slowly yet seriously). I started eating moderately and drinking more water. (Dapat lang noh? Water is life.) When I feel like it, I breeze-walk outside (preferably in a park). I found a versatile hairstyle that I can turn into a pompadour today, then relaxed bangs the next day. When I started having more pimples last year, I went to a dermatologist, and she helped me so much with her prescribed skincare products, and now my face is clear again.
And when it comes to style, I started upping my game in my later college years. But after college, slowly, I became more comfortable wearing whatever the hell I want, yet keeping it sharp. When I feel cheerful, I wear something like a multi-colored luchador-patterned shirt (yes, that’s pro wrestling for ya), blue jeans, and brown Chelsea boots. When I’m just lazy, I’d just put on a simple tee, jeans, and black Chucks or boots. When I feel like being a badass, I’d wear a dress shirt, black tie, dark jeans, black biker jacket, and black boots. (As you can tell now, I like boots.) Sometimes, I’d wear something ridiculous like a Deadpool-with-unicorn T-shirt, jeans, and pink Chucks. Yes. Pink. I got a few snarky comments from a few teenagers because of my odd style, but I’m fine with it. I like my style to be sharp but with my personal twist.
Pair my decent style with my recent diet, and people have seen the results. Thank goodness. “Pumayat ka.” “You dress better now!” “Ituloy mo lang yan, Ian!”
But when I heard the “pangit naman, kahit pogi pumorma” remark recently, I focused more on the “pangit naman”, and I felt that all the self-care and self-improvement in recent years meant nothing as long as I have my non-matinee idol face. Pakiramdam ko na ang pangit ko talaga.
But now that I think about it, my face isn’t for everyone. I have to live with the fact that not everyone likes it, and not everyone will. Then I look back at the number of “you’re cute” comments I received through the years, online or in real life. Growing up not getting many compliments, “you’re cute” is already a big deal for me. And when I get something like “ang gwapo mo”, that’s something else. Getting that kind of compliment makes me feel like I won the lottery.
And then there’s the most common compliment I get: I look like Bruno Mars. (Well, Bruno Mars before he got a mustache. I can’t grow a proper one.) Come on. Being compared to a superstar like Bruno Mars is the best compliment ever.
I should be allowed to feel the hurt about a single pangit comment, so I’m telling my feelings here on my blog. But I should also look back at all the bright lights I have received in the form of great compliments. Words can hurt and heal someone, and though I was hurt by one pangit comment, all the cute, gwapo, and other great compliments heal me. To those who have complimented me through the years, thank you.
So, yeah, my face isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine.
Crap. I haven’t slept properly. Sorry. I should hit the bed now. Or maybe not. Ewan.
Header image courtesy of Matej Bizjak.
Updated November 30, 2025.
The Blog of Ian Pasicolan 