Supreme to the extreme
Better late than never, we always say. While staging our first Supreme to the Extreme Awards night (September 19) was like finding the vein of pop timing to stick our event’s needle in, we here feel that we were able to jam that sucker in good. Getting a bright mix of stars out at night, grabbing enough swag for our goodie bags, making sure enough booze was allotted in case egos flared (and enough security allocated in case the alcohol ignited the egos) — all our fundraising, fluffing, and behind-the-scenes work kissing people’s behinds sure paid off as soon as we saw Willie and Joey hugging (and kissing) it out.
But apart from the beginning of a budding bromance broadcasted across the nation, there was a lot we were proud of when we look back on that night—and not just Rachel Lobangco’s eye-popping appearance, of course.
Okay, before we get ahead of ourselves and start dropping names like Chikatime would if it were still alive (by the way, thank you, oh stunted site for all the ideas for who to give our awards to), we’d like to acknowledge the great connector of people, Nokia, for making all this possible. Our mobile sugar momma, La femme Nokia, gave us enough moolah to book the Embassy Super Club as a venue, with a case of Tosca vodka for resident alky Paolo Lorenzana and a case of Moo! for J. Vincent Sarabia Ong; to pay off the Gucci ghels who handed such grand trophies to winners from their knockoff bags; and for the snazzy stage upon which both gab-gifted presenters and stars mounted.
You’d have to have witnessed all the gawking to know the alphabet-wide attendance at such an event. A-list personalities, D-list artistas, unlisted artistes who’d rather not get a phone line (we had to invite them face-to-face) — they came, they saw, and they let damn well loose in the festivities, no matter how absurd. Yeah, we all downed a couple of shots after host-for-all-seasons JM Rodriguez traded mad rhymes with Mike Swift. A lot more shots were swigged when some dude waved marker-written lyrics around so everyone could sing along Rockeoke-style (band heat packed by Oven Toaster) to Abba’s Mamma Mia.
And just to show we’ve got range, we also had a few G-rated moments sprinkled here and there, like when mother-and-son team Vivian and Jan Sarabia Ong saw eye-to-eye onstage; or when Sandy Concepcion, Gabby’s sis, loved us like her sibling by handing out an award. Those episodes of warm emotion balanced out all the hot billboard beef and beauty that made their way up and upped the blood pumping in everyone’s veins. Like when KC Concepcion was called up to the stage, giving guys heartburn in a sweet lil’ number; or when Brapanese boy toys Hideo and Akihiro flanked an on-fire Jenni Epperson — even when they declined to disrobe after she demanded them to. And while girls gaped, a little girl talk went on as well, when a prickly-hot Ruffa Gutierrez and Divine Lee talked boys (“My God, Divine, you’re single!”) in front of a crowd that only wanted to see more girl power manifest.
What everyone couldn’t get enough of, however, was the crowning glory to our labor of pop cultural love: kings of comedy Joey De Leon and Willie Revillame making up and making history for all to behold. And as Joey's t-shirt was emblazoned with Wanbol University to give props to the bulakbols of his generation, it was as if it was also giving a word-up to us, the bulakbols of media and this generation.
All the good will and glory of this Supreme night sets the tone for next year’s awards — and for years to come. Even if none of us here have good hand-eye coordination (we’re pointers and shooters, really), sportsmanship — in showbiz, especially — has always held extreme value over here. So when the next awards night comes near, we won’t get all worked up and hotheaded over a few little setbacks. The Supreme dream can be a bit of a nightmare at times, but if you keep the faith and free your mind, it can be one hell of a party.
