Rajo Laurel has been on top of his game as a Filipino designer for decades. To me, although glamour and style are his medium, a medium at which he is most adept, is a truthseeker, always trying to get to the bottom of things, to understand more of this life, and to see it in the lens of art, literature, history, philosophy. I imagine it would be such a pleasant Sunday to spend with Rajo by the pool, over brunch that would last until sunset, and all things lovely, intriguing, enchanting, captivating, puzzling, spellbinding to talk about under the sun before it dips into the horizon.

What is your idea of a perfect Sunday? 

It’s waking up early at our beach house and heading straight to the market and see what the local farmers have brought out. I love seeing all the fresh produce in their vibrant colors. Then I would go to my favorite fish mongers and see what they have caught or reserved for me. I then buy some freshly ground barako beans and run to the bakery to get hot malunggay pan de sal.  I head home to make coffee and enjoy the hot bread, usually with some good French  butter or, if I’m lucky, some kesong puti that my embroiderer from Lucban sometimes gives me. By this time, my partner Nix (Alañon) is up and about and we discuss what to prepare for lunch. We would be having some family and friends over. We plan the menu based on what I find in the market. Nix at some point goes out and forages for wild flowers and leaves for our centerpieces. This whole process of preparing for our loved ones is something we both love. Our guests arrive and we have a long Sunday lunch.  We eat, we laugh, and watch the most beautiful sunset. When our guests leave, it would be time for our favorite masseuse to give us foot and back massages and lull us to sleep.  
 

Best word to describe Sunday

Pause, it’s a time to take a break and slow down, recharging, recalibrating, resetting, and preparing for the week to come.  
 

Book you recommend as a Sunday read 

I love to be inspired. Currently I am re-reading The Battle of Versaille by Robin Givhan about a fashion fund raising event to rebuild the Palace of Versailles. The book explores the drama and the tension between the classic houses of the French versus the New American designers. I just love reading this book as it paints a picture of what goes behind the velvet curtains.  It’s exciting, intriguing, and so enjoyable.  
 

Best Sunday companion

This one is easy—Nix and our dogs Donatella and Valextra and taking long naps with them and with freshly laundered bed sheets and a dozen pillows. But I’d love to spend time with Yotam Ottolenghi, a British cook originally from Israel.  I am such a fan of how he prepares food and entertains. I would pick his brain on how he lives his life and where he gets his inspirations. It’s either him or Truman Capote because I just can see ourselves downing 10 martinis each and having the most incredible time. Oh wait, final answer: Oprah!

What is the most extravagant thing you could think of having or doing on a Sunday?

If money were no object, I would definitely fly to Amangiri in Utah for brunch. 
 

What would be the perfect topic for Sunday brunch conversation?  

I love talking about how to make one’s dreams come into fruition. I also love discussing ideas about making our world a better place for all of us. How we can use our lives as a platform to make other lives better. 
 

Best movie or series that once made your Sunday. 

There was a time I could just binge on Sex and the City. As for the movies, it would definitely be Wicked!  I am obsessed with the film. 
 

A quotable quote about Sunday that's made for you   

I love the Guest House by Rumi. I think about it often. 

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

What does “wear your Sunday Best” mean to you? 

When I was younger it was all about preparing for others to see you, wearing the best for church and seeking the validation and approval of others. Now I’m older, Sunday best is what suits me, like my favorite black T-shirt from Bench and my ratty old shorts from The Gap. Celebrate the glory of comfort, holes and all.  
 

If you were to write a book about the Sundays of your life, what would be the title? 

The Power of the Pause

 

Best Sunday ever in your memory

My most favorite Sunday memory would be probably Sunday morning at Christmas in the home of my lola and lolo with all my cousins. My grandparents lived in Malate back then in the best house to play hide and seek in, as it had so many nooks and crannies. For lunch, my lola would prepare sukiyaki. We would sit in amazement as she prepared it in front of our very eyes, a ceremony of love and generosity. I can almost hear the mahjong tiles in my head as the aunties would often play. My Ninang Marilen would take me and place me on her lap and lull me to a siesta. I still dream about those salad days.
Easter Sunday in Vancouver, where my lolo and lola had a home, was as fond a memory too. I loved how simple everything was! We didn’t have any help so we all pitched in to do the laundry, the grocery, the cooking, the cleaning. For Easter Sunday lunch, my uncle smoked his own salmon. It was the first time I learned to make puttanesca, whose name made me and my lola giggle. After the big lunch, we just huddled in the living room and sang songs around the piano.  Such a lovely Sunday filled with what I now realize is the most important, not fame, not money, not success, but the love of family.
 

Worst Sunday in your life

The Sunday I buried my father. I just felt so exhausted and numb. I just wanted to sleep for a week.  
 

If Sunday were a flavor, what would this flavor be? 

I am torn between choosing savory or sweet, but it would be the flavor of my lola’s chicken soup. Heartwarming, in my mind, it heals all ailments. If Sunday were a dish, it would be pesang manok, just boiled chicken. Lola would stew a whole chicken for hours with some aromatics, onions, root vegetables, some Spanish sausages and she would add a large sweet cabbage in the end.  Its soup feeds your soul. I tried to recreate, but sadly I just could not get it right. It needed my lola’s touch. Pesang manok is my comfort food.  
 

Where in the world would you like to be next Sunday, if you can just go there by magic?  

I’d be eight years old again in my lola’s kitchen, watching her prepare Sunday lunch, watching her every move. She would make me taste what she was cooking. I would help her set the table.  She would ask me to make flowers for the table and fold the napkins. What would I do to get that Sunday back again!