Medium Rare

Beauty is big business.

And Ruby S. Coyiuto knows it. She has a Flawless beauty salon in every mall and a string of franchises longer than her two arms put together.

I wouldn’t have known about Ruby’s flourishing business until she invited me, as the former classmate of her mom, Lulu Co Sy, throughout high school at Immaculate Conception Academy, to join her for lunch with entertainment writers to which group my daughter Pat-P belongs. It wasn’t a mother-daughter event, but I was invited. Thank you, Ruby. 

For one thing, I’ve known Ruby practically all her life, especially the part where she began exporting Philippine-made Christmas ornaments to clients all over Europe and the US. The Christmas she half guiltily confessed that she had closed her factory, I almost went into mourning. For many, many Christmases now, her made-in-RP ornaments — each one a dainty work of art — continue to occupy a special place on our everlasting “pine” tree.

I should not mourn the ageing of those ornaments, now that they’re part of a collection of precious antiques, the likes of which will not be soon repeated! Nonetheless, I thoroughly understand why Ruby has to shift to another business: the very durability and seasonability of those pendants work against her own commercial interests.

In contrast, her Swiss-made skin-care products need to be replenished regularly by their buyers – sprayed-on mists and creams for cleansing and washing, hydrating, moisturizing, anti-wrinkling, anti-aging; for use upon waking and before sleeping. I didn’t have to ask Ruby if she uses those products on herself because, of course she does.

The clothes she wears are another matter. When she was a teenager and in the habit of wearing miniskirts and short pants, Lulu would yell at her, “Change your clothes, you’re not going out in those shorts!” As if she would obey her mom. She would not, she did not, and she does not.

The day she had lunch with us, Ruby was wearing a red jumpsuit with some glitter (she had a cocktail party to attend later). On her feet she had red pumps, with heels that were not as high as I’d expected. What struck me was not her outfit but her appetite. She did not touch her food.