Catch Her If You Can!
by Mary Ann A. Bautista and Ricky T. Gallardo
People Asia Online, 12.11.00

In or out of her ‘reel’ world, Claudine Barretto has always been the sought-after, elusive, wisp of a girl all the boys would eye. Now 21, we cajoled her into taking this image to it’s extreme. J. Anthony Reyes is left holding the train for this one.

One corner of the makeshift studio bustles as four people groom Claudine Barretto. The cosmetic artist applies a highlight on her face, the hairstylist blow-dries her hair to a bounce, the manicurist colors her nails and the foot therapist pampers her feet with a foot spa. I squeeze myself into this huddle to sneak in this interview.

The fashion photographer, art director and producer hover about the showroom-turned-studio, discussing the details of the pictorial. It has taken an hour for this first make-up session. Claudine arrived looking like a coed in a Ralph Lauren sports shirt, blue jeans and hair tied in a ponytail. But when the beauty professionals finish their work, she looks like a princess. My heart leaps at the sight of her. "She’s ready," Juan, the makeup artist announces.

"… She walks into a room and you know she’s uncommonly rare, very unique, peripatetic, poetic and chic," the melody of the Chorus Girl song plays n my head. Claudine’s life blossomed under the TV limelight. She made her celebrity debut at age 13 with the ABS-CBN late-afternoon teen variety show Ang TV. Since then, her career took wing under the network’s nurturing. She’s gotten used to the movie talk intrigue, pair-ups, paparazzi, fan mobs, on-air talk show surprise questions, and, yes, magazine writers like me interviewing her.

Yet despite her life of glamour, she’s still a romantic, starry-eyed girl at heart. She sighs, "You know, I’ll give up all this celebrity stuff to raise my own family." I ask her what’s the hardest things about being a celebrity. "Celebrity life is so-ooo tiring," she smiles, "nothing’s private at all. It’s fun it’s exciting, but once in a while, I’d like to go to the mall without being stared at. I don’t go out nowadays. I’m actually a homebody who likes staying in the house: I cook, I bake, I clean the house, y’know, make walis and all. But I can’t make plancha."

Her first outfit bares her creamy shoulders. On her back is a palm-sized tattoo of Tweety Bird with a gun. It’s an apt allusion of her. Cute, but with an iron will and toughness to go with all that sweetness. The gal’s beautiful, but she’s street savvy and geared to blaze through life. A steel magnolia in a petite frame.

She poses, poses, poses as Wig, the photographer clicks, clicks, clicks away. "Keep the smile… perfect." Wig directs. "Okay, next shot." Of course it doesn’t go so quickly… this took 20 minutes.

As she walks to the dressing area, (with me tagging along), Claudine gasps, "Once in a while I like getting away from this all. Once a year, I go to Canada… such a nice, quiet place, with a few people, a place where I can be anonymous. If not abroad, then Pearl Farm or Tagaytay."

I ask what she’d like to do if she had a week to herself. "Hmmm… I wanna go diving. And other than that, lock myself in my room and sleep, sleep, sleep. See. I’m a very simple girl." She sticks her tongue out as she walks into the dressing area, two fashion assistants after her. I stay behind.

Ten minutes later, she emerges, clad in a Rajo Laurel-designed gown with elaborate silver and white embroidery, intricate shoulder metalwork, and a gossamer shawl inlaid with Swarovski crystals that glitter like diamonds. She staggers, "Ugh, this gown is super heavy. Like my body and neck are aching from the weight of it!" The fashion assistant mentions that the gown was patterned after a wedding cake (must’ve been quite a wedding cake, too).

"Careful with the lipstick," says PEOPLE Asia staffer Amanda, as she drapes the heavy gossamer bridal veil over Claudine’s face. The people in the studio fall extra silent as they take a moment to admire her. Claudine looks serene, a princess with aristocratic bearing, with a smile and a gaze that could melt a guy’s heart like butter under a 250-watt lamp.

"Too bad there’s no groom," Anton, the art director, mutters.

"Oh, the guy will follow," Wig says. Everybody laughs.

When the shots for the gown are done, it’s time for the next one. She sighs, "Time to dress up again. Hey, aren’t you guys hungry yet?"

Between costumes, I resumed my ambush questions: what are her plans? She lights a cigarette, draws a whiff, and thinks contemplatively. "No plans yet," she exhales, "I really can’t say what I want to do right now. Just go on with my life. Think a bit. Do some things for myself. There will be movies and shows… but the schedules aren’t fixed yet." No mention of the fan and public talk about a recent heartbreak, and I didn’t probe.

And as Juan applies fresh makeup, talk meanders about celebrity news: Ruffa will fly to Manila that week, so-and-so will have a concert, this star will go to the States, this star bought a new house. But Claudine doesn’t engage in it: it is the production people exchanging news. Claudine’s road manager Joy, who never leaves her side, holding two — no, three cell phones — handing her one of them when one rings from time to time. "I’m still here. This will take a couple more hours. No, I don’t know what time I’ll finish. Just let me call you back. Bye –bye."

In all, there were five lay-outs and five costume changes, each was like Cinderella being prepared for the ball. It was close to midnight when Amanda said it was a wrap and people tucked away their equipment and paraphernalia. A seven-hour pictorial!

"Did I answer your questions?" she gives me a concerned look. I say yes, but she says, "I’ll treat you out, then maybe we can talk some more." Beneath the midnight sky, beside the eerily quiet and surrealistically empty avenue in Makati, I light up. Yeah, sure thing.

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