A Class Act
Mikee Cojuangco-Jaworski goes on a different journey as she tries on fashion for fun and realizes what style means to her.
“I’m really excited to be in the Style Issue,” giggles Mikee Cojuangco, with her dimples showing. “It’s fun because I feel like I’m acting again. I’m role-playing. I’m playing the role of someone very fashionable.”
Mikee, a day after her shoot, is still struggling to see herself as fashionable. But it’s not like she’s lost any sleep about it. Being on the best-dressed list is not exactly in her priorities. She’s too busy to bother—pursuing her equestrian sport, teaching riding, attending events, making appearances, being a mother, wife, and daughter.
Even her home, with its many paintings and art pieces, has been left to her husband’s taste.
“He’s the style. I’m the function,” she jokes.
Mikee first caught the public’s attention in 1991, when a Swatch commercial featured her and posited “Who is she?”, and much of our interest was piqued by the pedigree that came with her last name.
Mikee’s “I am me” declaration at the end of her breakthrough commercial is a precursor to a life in the public eye, with the rest of us observing and digging around for more information about the girl.
For one thing, she has always presented herself as nice — a real girl-next-door type, sweet and charming and cheerful. There is no controversy, no crazy escapade, no headaches attached to her name.
No one can be that nice, right? Particularly when that someone has bloodline that comes with hacienderos and political clans. Especially when you mix that with some years spent in the complex universe that is Philippine show business.
But Mikee’s niceness is real. It’s honest. It stares at you unapologetically in the face — smilingly, of course.
It is also undervalued, however. And underestimated.
“I don’t manufacture anything because I wouldn’t be able to keep at it,” Mikee starts. “I would hate that because I wouldn’t be happy. And everyone wants to be happy. In fact, I try to be as honest as I can be and try to do it in a nice way.”
Yes, it’s that word again.
She continues, “But I also have that breaking point. I think that’s just the way I am. My dad’s the same way. He’s very patient. He won’t say anything.”
Conversations with Mikee are peppered with mentions of family members. From references, in passing, about dad Peping (“He’s so spoiled. We all spoil him. But we all have our own niches.”) to mom Tingting (“That painting is of my mom and me.”) to one of the four sisters (“China and I were tomboyish as kids. Maybe I played a little bit with dress up, but mostly it was ‘Dress Up Maimai.’”) She talks about her three boys, how she looks forward when she can have them all day long during summer vacations, and how her she has “an amazing husband who’s such a great dad that, you know, it just makes life more of a pleasure.”
It’s a clear indication of what is important in Mikes’s life, and how—yet again—we see another piece of proof of all that niceness. This girl does not bother with artifice. It’s surprisingly refreshing.
Perhaps if you were in her shoes, there’s no need to aspire to be someone else. There's no need to drop names to prove who you know and what you’re worth. Yours is already the name to drop. And then, you marry Dodot Jaworski, hyphenating his name to yours. Mikee Cojuangco-Jaworski has the requisite lineage in this name-conscious society.
No, we don’t bother to go there. Mikee is well aware of what the Cojuangco name is about. As a young girl, she was already on the campaign trail, giving five-minute speeches on behalf of her father.
“When they would introduce me,” recalls Mikee, “the crowd would go wild because there’s this little kid who goes on stage and delivers a speech. And they don’t expect the daughter of Tingting and Peping to deliver a speech in straight Tagalog. Diba? So they listen because it’s a novelty.”
The early exposure to the public had a long time effect on Mikee. Besides getting used to being in the spotlight, she also began to realize how much power it can yield. She tells a story of an incident, when a celebrity endorsing her father came onstage, got the crowd excited, and drew a blank when she was about to make her endorsement speech.
It was a turning point for Mikee. “That’s such a sin! How can you even think of endorsing someone you don’t know? How would you know if they’re thieves or murderers or the best? Diba? I thought, ‘This is really crazy.’ And I said to myself — I swear I remember the moment so vividly — if I am ever given the opportunity to say something that is going to influence someone’s life or decision, I better not make a mockery out of it.”
These days, Mikee is making good on her word. She’s busy using the influence — born into, has acquired, and earned — in her involvement in NGOs and community work. She is a spokesperson for AnakTV, an organization advocating for child-sensitive, family-friendly television programming. She’s particularly excited about Sine Bata, a new project they’re launching, where children in rural communities are taught to use media. “They were taught how to come up with a script, how to direct, how to use video cameras, or cameras, and even the cellphones.”
It’s the perfect medium for Mikee to bridge her media background as an actress and product endorser to the causes she supports. “Television is talked about as actually being the most powerful tool in getting messages across. We have such a huge responsibility in bringing across the right message. Why not use TV, not just to entertain, but also to educate, without having to be preachy? It’s just about sending the right vibes.”
She also works occasionally with other community projects and organizations like Gawad Kalinga, and even assists her father once in a while in the Philippine Olympic Committee. It’s one good cause after another. This girl — she’s almost too good to be true.
“Being able to influence, whether young or old, is such an amazing opportunity for me,” she declares.
Here’s the thing. A statement like that demands real conviction. You can’t say something like that only when the occasion asks for it. It must be backed up by a lifestyle that proves it every year. How can a woman born into a life of privilege make such claims?
For Mikee, it doesn’t have to be a complicated matter. It boils down to trust and honesty.
She shares, “My mom said to me before, when you’re a public personality and you know that it’s a responsibility, you need to be the person that they look up to. Every time you go out you have to remember that you’re not your own, you don’t belong to yourself. ”
That’s not niceness anymore. That’s credibility.
And ultimately, it’s also about confidence. Mikee’s sense of self can take you off guard. She won’t shove her convictions down your throat, but she’ll let her own passion steer you in her direction. It’s that quiet sense of self-assurance, announced by her trademark charming smile, that beguiles us.
So much so that not only do we forgive her when she begs not to know much about fashion, we put her on the magazine’s cover as well.
But don’t be too quick to dismiss Mikee Cojuangco-Jaworski when it comes to style. It could just be that she knows more than what you — and she — would assume.
“People tease me that I rebelled against being Tingting Cojuangco’s daughter by being the white shirt and jeans person,” she laughingly shares. “But she’s the one who told me to wear white shirt and jeans! She said,’You look comfortable in it, it doesn’t look panget, and, therefore, keep it!”
That maternal vote of confidence coupled with unconditional love did nothing but boost Mikee’s sense of security. Growing up, she was well aware that her mother was a fashion icon but did not feel the need to be her mother’s clone.
It’s not like Mikee has gone the disheveled way. She’s even endorsing a clothing line (M&Co.) and shampoo (Pantene), quite a feat for a self-confessed non-fashionista.
Never mind that selecting something beyond a white top gives her a headache; she tries nevertheless, and you got to love her for it.
She confides about how her chosen style (i.e. uniform) has been on-point all along. Even the venerable Tingting Cojuangco insists on it. On days that Mikee does choose something colored, she gets a comment from her mom that’s both quizzical and critical. “She’d say, ‘You look better pa rin in white and in jeans.’ To say that to me after I try to explore is just funny. Maybe that’s one part of my life that I’m just going to keep, the white shirt and jeans thing, which is going to be much easier for me to do.
Miss Simplicity saves her punchline for last. “And now, my mom does wear a lot of white tops and jeans! She never used to wear jeans before. Imagine, I had a fashion influence on Tingting Cojuangco! That’s new.”
She’ll give you an answer too, when you give her some time, about the definition of style. “Style is really what you can carry,” she reasons out. “It’s not what everyone thinks is cool.”
So when Mikee does stick to her jeans and white shirt, is it to say that she doesn’t care about fashion or about what we think? Between you and me, I don’t think she even goes that far. The true stylistas know what Mikee may be reluctant to say: Style, ultimately, is not about which top goes with what bottom, which designer made the headlines, as much as a statement of personal convictions. Mikee’s is confidence and courage, wrapped in one classy package. It’s a clear hint of what she’s about — that endearing mix of sweetness, honesty, and respectability that is the foil to the full life she is leading.
