PUBLISHING DATE: SEPTEMBER 2015
(Original Submission)
HOARDING ROOM
There it was in a few square meters of space: stylist Melvin Mojica’s brain. A dissection of his being, rather, reflected in seemingly mundane, even archaic, mess. But as complex our traits are, so is the significance latched onto material things. His space is cluttered to a layman’s view, and yet, to his circle of intimates, decluttered from nuisances of living. Despite the size, Melvin’s home speaks volumes of the stylists’ inspirations, experiences, and memories, which only a lucky few have seen.
Decked from floor to ceiling with fashion magazines dating back to the 70s, novels, and old photographs, Melvin’s flat (once Joan Bitagcol’s) is void of furniture, not even a bed or a TV. “I hate cleaning. And it’s less responsibility,” he says. It comes with age, Melvin implies, where he knows what is valuable to him, may it be with the projects he chooses to work on or even the friends he keeps. He points out a documentary about Bill Cunningham, a New York Times street style photographer and cultural anthropologist who lived in a small apartment filled only with filing cabinets and boxes of his photographs. Living small has its perks, too.
What his room lacks in basics, it makes up as a repository of perpetual inspiration, a valuable resource for his passions. Known as a top fashion stylist and sought after fashion show director, Melvin is an artist by heart. “My father taught me how to draw. When I was a kid, isa lang dino-draw namin the whole time. The side view of John Lennon smoking. Again and again and again,” he recalls.
But it was an issue of French Vogue he chanced upon in Booksale that initiated the collection, which later dictated his career. “Early on, I really liked fashion. My favorite was French Vogue, my first Vogue [at 12 years old]. The first time I saw an American Vogue I think I was 14. I was so inspired. The one with Linda [Evangelista] and Christy [Turlington] in the ‘90s. Cindy Crawford was on the cover,” he shares. There are other magazines that left a mark on him, naming The Face with Chloe Sevigny on the cover (Feb. ’97), A MAGAZINE curated by Maison Martin Margiela, Self Service (Fall/Winter ‘06), i-D Magazine: The Elevator Issue (Oct. ’99), and French Vogue where Sophia Coppola was a guest editor (Dec. ‘04/Jan. ‘05) as the top five he can’t live without.
Just like his room’s eccentricity, Melvin himself is a character. He’s an old soul loyal to obsolete technology. He relishes classic melancholic music and bouts of solitude, and yet juxtaposed with a youthful effervescence. It isn’t surprising that such peculiarities should arise from a mind of a creative. It’s enough to produce a space as visceral as his.
HOARDING ROOM
Photo by Charles Buenconsejo
There it was in a few square meters of space: stylist Melvin Mojica’s brain. A dissection of his being, rather, reflected in seemingly mundane, even archaic, mess. But as complex our traits are, so is the significance latched onto material things. His space is cluttered to a layman’s view, and yet, to his circle of intimates, decluttered from nuisances of living. Despite the size, Melvin’s home speaks volumes of the stylists’ inspirations, experiences, and memories, which only a lucky few have seen.
Decked from floor to ceiling with fashion magazines dating back to the 70s, novels, and old photographs, Melvin’s flat (once Joan Bitagcol’s) is void of furniture, not even a bed or a TV. “I hate cleaning. And it’s less responsibility,” he says. It comes with age, Melvin implies, where he knows what is valuable to him, may it be with the projects he chooses to work on or even the friends he keeps. He points out a documentary about Bill Cunningham, a New York Times street style photographer and cultural anthropologist who lived in a small apartment filled only with filing cabinets and boxes of his photographs. Living small has its perks, too.
What his room lacks in basics, it makes up as a repository of perpetual inspiration, a valuable resource for his passions. Known as a top fashion stylist and sought after fashion show director, Melvin is an artist by heart. “My father taught me how to draw. When I was a kid, isa lang dino-draw namin the whole time. The side view of John Lennon smoking. Again and again and again,” he recalls.
But it was an issue of French Vogue he chanced upon in Booksale that initiated the collection, which later dictated his career. “Early on, I really liked fashion. My favorite was French Vogue, my first Vogue [at 12 years old]. The first time I saw an American Vogue I think I was 14. I was so inspired. The one with Linda [Evangelista] and Christy [Turlington] in the ‘90s. Cindy Crawford was on the cover,” he shares. There are other magazines that left a mark on him, naming The Face with Chloe Sevigny on the cover (Feb. ’97), A MAGAZINE curated by Maison Martin Margiela, Self Service (Fall/Winter ‘06), i-D Magazine: The Elevator Issue (Oct. ’99), and French Vogue where Sophia Coppola was a guest editor (Dec. ‘04/Jan. ‘05) as the top five he can’t live without.
Just like his room’s eccentricity, Melvin himself is a character. He’s an old soul loyal to obsolete technology. He relishes classic melancholic music and bouts of solitude, and yet juxtaposed with a youthful effervescence. It isn’t surprising that such peculiarities should arise from a mind of a creative. It’s enough to produce a space as visceral as his.
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