How to Date A Male Model (And Still Keep Your Self-Esteem Intact)
By Tals Diaz


IN THE smoky, orange-tinted haze of the dance floor one night, a guy grabbed my hand and I panicked in sheer terror.

Not because he resembled a shiitake mushroom, or that he wore colossal gold-plated bling blings over his chest hair that curled like pancit canton. Neither was he a sweat-soaked D.O.M. who smelled like a mix of mentholated cream and stale Old Spice. It was the polar opposite in fact--he was tall, stunning and built like a samurai. He was a male model.

I know, I know--a lot of girls would probably pass out or be killed with kilig if they were ever picked up by a handsome human mannequin. Yet my reasons for having wanted to push the eject button at that particular moment runs a bit deeper and stems back to recent history. And it's not because I've seen "Zoolander" more than the usual accepted number of times and thus associate the company of male models with a fiery death at a gas station to the tune of "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go."

Macho ado about nothing

I've had more than my fair share of experiences with these "Blue Steel"-gazing pros during my hey days as a magazine editor. The first close encounters with such species were disarming indeed, but as soon as over-bloated egos were revealed, I developed the skill of rolling my eyes so far back up my forehead I could have given myself a frontal lobotomy.

I remember one post-photo shoot experience wherein one such fair male creature, who had hit semi-celebrity stature a few years back, grabbed my phone and actually had the cheek to tell me, "I think you should have my number." He proceeded to input his digits, and then deleted another important number on my phone's fully-booked contact list! Suffice to say he was taken aback at my reaction--instead of bubbling over like a grateful pre-teener, I asked him point-blank, "And why would I ever waste my thumb chi texting you?"

At another shoot, a photographer asked me to examine the lighting on a contact Polaroid print he had taken of a shirtless male subject. As I was checking out the Pola, the model shouted out to me, "Don't sell that to your friends, ha!" (Cut to: an image to me holding down my vomit.)

Then there was the time when another model complained to me, "They made me wait all day and I'm only getting P70,000 for it!" (Cut again to: me calculating in my head how many thousands of articles I'd have to write over the years to even come close to that amount.) Call it a reverse form of snobbery, but for a while I actually lumped all these pretty boys as either full of themselves, or full of sh*t. Besides, I'd take cool over hot any day.

Eye candy with filling

By the hideous hand of Fate, however, I did find myself at one time going out with a Zoolander. He was eye candy with substance. He spiced up dinner conversations with a wicked sense of humor, relevant quotes from Garcia Marquez, arthouse film discussions including the hidden symbolisms in "Before Sunset," and fascinating tidbits on Tibetan Buddhism. Jumpin' Jehovah's witnesses, could it be? He was actually hot and cool at the same time!

The trouble in paradise began when I was suddenly sucked into an alternate universe that I'd never ventured into before. For one, my best male friends started excusing themselves from gimmicks a bit earlier than usual. My female friends, on the other hand, suddenly channeled pre-pubescent, giggling schoolgirls whenever we were out. And for the first time in my life, the fear of getting dark undereye circles was actually a sustainable reason to call it a night at 9 p.m. on a Saturday.

I was in a bizarre world indeed. Thus, I've compiled a little amateur guide on what to expect when you so happen to be dating Mister Perfect Cheekbones.

#1 When you two walk into a bar, accept the fact that no one will be looking at you... and if they do, it's just to wonder how the hell you landed him. No matter how healthy your self-confidence levels are, there is nothing more unnerving to see girls, gay guys and even straight guys checking out your "trophy" date while you have suddenly transformed into a gaseous substance. Certain nightspots in the city are notorious in fact for being peopled with overly flirtatious females who see no shame in bumpin' and grindin' your partner even as you stand merely inches away in aghast. Oh right, lest you forget, you're vapor.

#2 Be wary of leaving your date with your best friend. Even if you and your best female bud grew up melded at the hipbone, be mindful that she is still a creature of estrogen and that makes her as trustworthy as Michael Jackson in an orphanage. I realized this when I first introduced her to my date over drinks, and her stare pierced him like a dental drill on bicuspids. She also suddenly developed a previously nonexistent interest in Latin American cinema, the Mahabharata epic and potted plants, in the attempt to find common interests with him. Later, she excused herself to the bathroom and texted me, "Please don't leave me alone with him or I will jump him." The situation was remedied after three more rounds of vodka tonics--my friend started seeing two of him and it was officially a double date.

#3 You suddenly have more gay friends than usual.Even if you're a certified fag hag, the presence of a handsome arm accessory will ensure that you will be surrounded by an assemblage of Wills and Jacks when you're out. So much for painting the town red, expect it to be more like a shade of cherry pink. Take note, however, that the sudden influx of the fairy sex may not necessarily be from your side of the friend fence. In your man's industry, gay guys are kings, er... queens of the kingdom and as such be prepared to hang with his stylist, fashion director, fashion director's boyfriend, production assistant and social scene chronicler. This is not a bad thing, for being in such gayer-than-Christmas company usually ensures a spleen-busting, unforgettable night. It may even be an ego booster, for in between their harmless flirtations with your guy will come surreptitious nudges and whispered congratulatory approvals, usually worded as, "Ang ganda ng lola moh!!! [Your beau is great]"

#4 But suddenly, your best male friends are nowhere to be found. It doesn't matter if your new boy toy sincerely wants to meet your best male posse to bond over beers. It's a near impossible feat to assimilate your mate into the fold. For one, guys don't like being talked down to--literally. Being beside another male who is obviously the visual target of every other female in a party is not exactly a guy's idea of fun, either. And it doesn't bode too well for their egos when they're chugging six packs while your guy sports a six-pack. Forgive your ol' friends then for excusing themselves early with lame excuses like having to change the aquarium filter, or needing to catch "The Fifth Wheel" on cable.

#5 Be prepared to find more grooming products in his bathroom sink than your wildest dreams. And don't be shocked to find yourself sharing makeup either. My life took on a whole new level of meaning when I discovered the benefits of Bed Head hair wax, undereye gel, after-sun cooling spray and moisturizing spritzers, products which he claimed to have been given to him for free. I then questioned the presence of a range of foundation creams and concealers lined neatly in his bathroom cabinet. He could only sheepishly mumble, "It's for work. Try the Natural Tan mousse."

#6 Accept the fact, with utmost dignity, that he may be half-naked around beautiful girls all the time--for work. It's immensely character-building: acknowledging that no matter how many hours you spend prepping yourself up to look good, the chick he shot a commercial with the day before will still be way hotter than you. It's also trust-building: When he shows up with two girls who look like they just stepped off the catwalk and introduces them as "friends he met through work," it's the truth. It's also humility-building. No explanation necessary.

#7 If you ever happen to get into a public conflict where physical contact will be involved, chances are that it'll be you who'll fight the aggressor. Your date can't afford to have a black eye, after all. It happened outside a club one night. Some psycho chick accused my date's other model friend of cheating on her. So his friend, instead of coming to him for help, instead came to me to suddenly channel Buffy and slay the crazed, jealous lunachick. I didn't think twice about confronting her, imagining pulling out some kickboxing moves (or maybe just pulling her hair) if she made the first move. I did think thrice, however, when the whole fiasco was over and they thanked me for saving them from having bruises on their flawless faces, which would have surely made them fail the next day's VTR.

#8 When out having dinner, your meal plates will usually look like a rainforest compared to his three salad leaves. He needs to watch his weight, after all. A few extra pounds is multiplied tenfold on TV and print.

#9 Don't feel bad if he has to be sent to exotic locales like Mexico, while you'll be off to Mexico, Pampanga. A seemingly harmless call from his agency on his mobile phone can be enough to throw a monkey wrench on your weekend plans. After all, getting sent to Puerto Vallarta and Colombia will still be infinitely more appealing than Puerto Galera and Calamba.

#10 If the relationship is short-lived, console yourself that it was worth the experience, and you can finally go back into a semi-normal life. I didn't expect it to last; his agency took him off the Asian circuit and he was sent to the other side of the earth.

But all's well in the end-chapter. For you're now enhanced with the gravity-defying properties of hair wax, you know which is your best angle when posing for photos, and what prints best flatter your figure. Plus, you've got your male friends back, your best female friend is finally cured of the giggles and you've got a whole new network of gay friends. And at some point, when you come across his face plastered on a billboard, it's kinda cool to say, "hey, I know him."