I Heart RP
The lovechild of an Iranian father and a former local beauty queen, Joey Mead spent years shuttling between Manila and Adelaide—the city her mother and Australian stepfather chose to settle in—until finally deciding in the 90s to move back to the Philippines where she was born. Booking her first runway show while partying at a Makati disco, her name and image would become synonymous with the rise of club culture, alternative fashion, and music television. At the height of her fame, she made pop culture history—and caused much controversy—by appearing (albeit uncredited) in the nude on an Eraserheads album cover. Lawyer and left-leaning activist Argee Guevarra—one of the civilians arrested during the Manila Peninsula uprising last year—comes back to familiar territory in Makati for high tea, and asks our cover model if she’s up for more trouble.
Joey Mead is on the cover of this magazine wearing nothing but the country’s colors.
To be precise, she isn’t even draped with a flag—she looks like a flag. In a season reeling from a shortage of spunk and roiling from a surplus of senseless speeches, it’s nothing short of flaunting our national colors—enough to distinguish her as a rogue element.
In other words, we might just get along.
Unlike me, though, she’s never been arrested.
But she’s definitely famous. To those of us already allowed a social life in the 90s, she always held hostage our post-adolescent memories, holding the dubious honor of Manila’s “It Girl” for a period. After appearing in numerous ads and runway shows, she took the next step for a model and started to talk. This led to stints as a host in the early morning program Alas Sinko Y Medya and Sunday variety show ASAP. Of course it’s her stint as a Channel V VJ that people associate her with the most.
Joey Mead was born Joanne Del Pilar Angeles. And if her middle name strums a historical chord, that is because her superlolo is none other than the great pillar of the Philippine Propaganda Movement, Marcelo H. Del Pilar.
“People still remember me for being a VJ although it’s almost been a decade,” says Joey.
We’re at the lobby of a Makati hotel. (Guess which?) Over a selection of local delicacies including suman and pandesal, we talk and have tea together. Unassuming in denims, she clearly stands out, even as a quick inspection of the other tables reveal no shortage of celebrities. Her kind and my kind. Despite this, there are a number of furtive and prurient stares being thrown her way and stalking her space. She pays no mind and remains unperturbed.
I tell her that I’m a stranger to her world.
“What world would that be?”
“This.”
A waiter smiles knowingly at me as he pours more water into our glasses.
We’re off to a perfect start.
PLARIDEL’S PROGENY
Now, here’s something: Despite the androgynous first name and foreign-sounding last name, Joey Mead was born Joanne Del Pilar Angeles. And if her middle name strums a historical chord, that is because her superlolo is none other than the great pillar of the Philippine Propaganda Movement, Marcelo H. Del Pilar.
Proudly and certifiably Filipina, she explains away the conventional perception of her as a Brit-bred, Latina-blooded, Eurasian hottie due to her unique Rhotic Anglo-accent. She says her gene pool is something that could be described as “P.O.P.”—Persian Oz Pinay.
Her mother, Josephine Mars Del Pilar, was a Hispanic mestiza lass who got swept up into the maelstrom of Dekada 70. A beauty queen and former Miss Makati, she met her father, an Iranian national, at a party. He coached the Persian squad when they visited the country for the Asian Basketball Championship in 1975. The romance did not last long between her folks. (Last she heard, he was residing in Tehran.) Her mother eventually married an Australian named Leslie Mead, and they migrated to Adelaide City. Joey was only five.
Every year, she would visit the Philippines, though. These visits, which extended for months, imbued her with a sense of having to take care of her own and stoked her fascination, if not passion, for the idiosyncrasies of the land of her birth. It also completely screwed up her academic calendar.
The regular shuttling between Adelaide and Novaliches prevented her from finishing high school, something Joey mildly regrets. (She’s actually finishing her G.E.D. in Los Angeles this year as well as taking a course in landscaping.)
But headstrong and suffused with a rugged independence, she voiced her preference to stay in the Philippines. Looking back at it now, she says she’s surprised (and a bit aghast) that she was allowed to.
SCHOOL OF HARD KNOCKS
“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, but I don’t mind eating from it,” says Joey.
At 15, her mom left her under the care and custody of her Lola Dolores with the least financial assistance. Seeing an ad in the paper about John Robert Powers (“A modeling school? Cool!”), she went to apply. Upon seeing the P10,000 tuition fee, her mom balked at the cost.
It was then that the school’s director, Teresita Macasaet, approached her. Learning her problem, she graciously offered her work as a receptionist. “She liked my accent,” says Joey, “so I started answering the phones.”
Her salary was P400 a week.
Asked if it was enough, she answers that she “made sure it was.”
She commuted everyday from Pasig, where she lived, to Makati to go to work. This would consist of a tricycle ride outside of her subdivision, a jeepney to Manggahan to Marcos Highway, another jeepney to Ali Mall, then a Love Bus to Greenbelt. (“It was P10 because it was air-conditioned.”) From there, it was only a short distance to Salcedo Village.
My editors tell me later that Joey also likes the current president. I think it was wise that GMA didn’t arrive just then. Then we’d both be in trouble.
At 16, she became friends with Maureen Hultman. “She was taking courses at John Robert Powers, and we became friends,” says Joey. “She was like me in that we didn’t really fit in.” Of that period, she recalls just being silly, gushing together about Keanu Reeves in the video for Paula Abdul’s “Rush.” (Several years later, while working for AXN, she interviewed Reeves as well as other stars like Morgan Freeman, Liam Neeson, and Katie Holmes to name a few.) She says that the friendship with Maureen was undoubtedly a significant one. Her untimely death was certainly traumatic for the 16-year-old Joey. (The prime suspect, Claudio Teehankee Jr., the son of the late Chief Justice, was convicted of the murders in 1995. It was largely because of that case that the death penalty was restored. It was suspended once more in 2006.)
AFFIRMATIVE ACTION
Outside the hotel, Joey accompanies me as I take my nth yosi break. The doorman smiles at me the same way the waiter did earlier. At that moment, Loren Legarda alights from her vehicle and goes inside.
“I like her,” says Joey.
“Yeah, you would,” I retort.
My editors tell me later that Joey also likes the current president. I think it was wise that GMA didn’t arrive just then. Then we’d both be in trouble.
