How the OG Bloggers Paved The Way

The young Filipino fashion girls of the 2010s had an unspoken though oft-photographed dress code. You might remember it: swishy miniskirts and tank tops in clashing bold prints and bright colors, bangles up to their elbows, and chunky wedges up to the sky. The hair? Long, bouncy—usually permed, often blonde; the eyes smoky, and the lips nude. It was excessive but picture-perfect and endlessly enviable.

These carefully curated looks were showcased through a catalog of signature poses: standing straight with feet slightly turned inward or, perhaps, a sideways stance with the head shyly lowered. Always one hand would be tucking a strand of hair behind the ear, and always the smile was reserved for behind the scenes. 

The fashion was captivating, if sometimes a bit outrageous. But beyond their ability to mix plaid, polka dots, and neon in a single outfit, what was more fascinating was how these bloggers—perhaps unknowingly—were transforming the very dynamics of fashion content. 

The Blogger Boom & Boon 

The 2010s was the golden age of Filipino fashion blogging. People were slowly inching out of the minuscule images of Multiply and into the more accommodating spaces of WordPress, Blogspot, and Tumblr. Style-centered fashion platforms Chictopia and Lookbook.nu further empowered stylish civilians to share their ensembles. Incidentally, Instagram launched in 2010 and gained traction in the Philippines a year later. 

Those at the intersection of chic, enterprising, and expressive found themselves exploring this new media. They dressed up and talked about it. They told us about their favorite stores, how they upgraded “thrifted” finds, and even took us on their travels. 

You didn’t even have to be online to know who they were. Their influence (though it was called something different back then) quickly escaped the web and spilled offline into the pages of Inquirer’s 2bU, Candy, Star’s Supreme, Meg, Cosmo, and Preview. 

Call it meta or call it irony, but bloggers broke the aspirational veneer of magazines.

As narrated by The Cut, the first generation of bloggers in the aughts “live-blogged, tweeted, and initiated a real-time conversation where once only silence existed… In their words and images, there was an earnest and raw truth that did not exist in traditional outlets.” 

These “fashion guerrillas,” the likes of Bryanboy, Susannah Lau, and Chiara Ferragni, had an instinctive understanding of technology and used it to attract thousands of eyeballs globally. They offered readers access to events and insights that were typically closed off. And in a famously exclusive industry, these bloggers carved out their own space and invited the world inside.

Big-name brands were on board with this new kind of exposure, but legacy media felt these self-made creators didn’t earn their stripes. They’ve yet to deliver the latest, unpublished Harry Potter manuscript to Miranda Priestley, after all. But resistance was futile. Soon, even the writers and editors of established magazines were at the front rows of fashion week, iPhones out and serving fashion stories on demand. 

These days, many attribute the decline of magazines in part to this blogging phenomenon. The sartorial diarists—at least the early ones—provided a more authentic, accessible perspective on style. You no longer needed to spend P150 on a magazine to look for outfit cues. You could just pop into your favorite blogger’s page—and you’ll see the fashion in action, on the streets of BGC or the sidewalks of Makati. 

The Local OG

In the noughties, blogging was a personal pursuit—a venue to share interests with like-minded individuals or to vent. The point was to throw your thoughts out there. Whether someone caught it was a bonus.

One of the early adopters of blogging locally was Tricia Gosingtian, who was on LiveJournal in 2003 and deviantArt in 2004. Her reason for diving into the medium may surprise even long-time followers. “I lived and breathed graphic design and coding and would stay up until 3 a.m. tinkering with Photoshop,” she recalls.

By high school, her style was already taking shape (the black eyeliner and striped knee-high socks hinted at the Japanese aesthetic for which she’d later become known). But her passion for anime, gaming, and RPG—heavily influenced by her brothers—was at the forefront.

Blogging married her hobbies, like writing, layouts, coding, and even photography and photo editing. 

“For someone like me, who often felt a bit out of place with these specific interests, the internet became the perfect playground,” Gosingtian says. “LiveJournal was a total game changer—it connected me with communities from around the world, where people freely shared their thoughts about anything and everything, allowing me to cultivate a secret life unbeknownst to those around me.

“Most people around me didn’t quite grasp what I was up to, and I loved the thrill of keeping it under wraps. It was like being a superhero with a secret identity. It was such an exhilarating time in tech, especially with the dawn of online platforms and cameras (dSLRs!) becoming smaller and more accessible,” Gosingtian explains. 

Through the years, Tricia documented her changing pursuits on various blogs, like Slumber Doll for her photography and fashion era and Tricia Will Go Places for lifestyle and travel. “It wasn’t planned—I just followed my evolving interests. Blogging platforms like WordPress helped me share longer stories, so I embraced writing about every part of my life. The natural transition kept my content genuine and engaging for diverse audiences without forcing a brand change.”

The Go-Getter

Like Gosingtian, Kryz Uy Young had motivations beyond fashion when she launched her blog in 2009. The prospect of an A lured her into signing up for a WordPress account.

One of her college professors required students to create a website. Whoever had the highest number of hits by the end of the semester would get an automatic A for the course. Uy Young dove in. 

Her original blog, Thirsty Thought, chronicled everyday student musings. The title came to her out of the blue because she liked the alliterative Ts and felt the phrase demonstrated the blog’s original intention: a place to share her day-to-day reflections. Her initial posts spoke about everything, from her nieces and nephews and her org (the Company of Ateneo Dancers) to the effects of Typhoon Ondoy on her home. Fashion showed up occasionally, but mostly of Uy Young curating her style inspirations or Fashion Week favorites. 

Ever the consummate achiever, however, she began to look for ideas that would get A-worthy clicks. “Like I went to a department store and found interesting pekpek shorts. Very clickable. At that time, we didn’t really have viral things, but I wanted to make my own viral content,” she explains. 

Uy Young’s schoolmates devoured her ruminations, but she noticed many of the comments revolved around asking about her outfits. 

“Even before I started the website, I would have a visual diary of the outfits I would wear, but I would draw them on the back of my notebook,” she says. “I was happy that our [college] didn’t have a uniform, but I had very limited clothes since I lived out of a suitcase. I wanted to be creative with how I wore them, and I didn’t want to repeat my outfits.”

The blog made sartorial planning easier. Uy Young would style herself and pose against her bedroom wall. With only her laptop camera, the results were crude but effective, especially for fellow students who wanted to know how to make do with limited resources.

“That’s kind of how it became fashion-related, but it was never really my goal. At that time, it was just about having fun,” she adds. 

From the very beginning, Uy Young observed what resonated and adjusted accordingly. It was fashion that gave her a captive audience and, suffice it to say, she got that prized A. Now, she’s one of the country’s leading content creators with 1.8 million Instagram followers and 1.64 million YouTube subscribers. 

Trying to Blog

By the mid-2010s, bloggers began to look like an endless rotation of colorfully clad, long-haired glamazons, practically indistinguishable to anyone looking in from the outside. It’s a fair assessment. Yet it’s also reductive to say they were merely capitalizing on a craze—especially the pioneers who were each driven by unique incentives. 

In an interview with Teen Vogue, Camille Co Koro admitted to jumping on the blogging bandwagon, but she also had another, more important goal. She was looking for a way to market her clothing brand without spending too much on advertising. Her two-year-old brand Coexist featured ready-to-wear and custom-made pieces that she designed herself. 

Though already a regular on Chictopia and Lookbook.nu, Co Koro wanted a space that allowed her more control. So, progressing to her own website felt organic. It became a gallery not only for her #OOTDs but also for the quality of her designs. 

Though Ko Coro started her blog in 2011—a year or two after her contemporaries—she managed to stand out from the sea of aspiring fashionistas with her eclectic aesthetic and an innate skill for nailing contrasting elements. (“I was a print-on-print queen!” Co Koro chides her husband Joni in a 2020 fashion retrospective video.) 

Stripes and zebra patterns with a fluorescent belt? It was the kind of imaginative combinations you’d see in magazines—only she walked the talk. It was the kind of style you wished you could pull off but probably never would. Co Koro’s sartorial appeal fused fantasy and reality. And she let you live vicariously through her bold choices. 

“There was no other goal than to share my love for fashion. It wasn’t about getting famous, going viral, garnering views and hits,” Co Koro tells The Beauty Edit. “Back then, no one saw it as a career. We didn’t think it would become this massive thing.” 

Even her blog’s name, Camille Tries to Blog, suggests her earlier uncertainty. In the Teen Vogue interview, she remembers witnessing the level of commitment her blogger friends put on their websites:  “There was so much effort to sustain… I didn’t think I would have the discipline to maintain a blog!”

Come 2024, though her content has expanded to include family and lifestyle, she has largely stayed true to her fashion roots. She’s worked with Louis Vuitton, Dior, and Gucci. She’s also been a regular fixture in international Fashion Weeks as well as lists like Preview’s Best Dressed 2011 and Tatler’s Most Stylish 2020. At some point in the last decade, Camille Co Koro stopped trying and just…does.

The Turning Point

While bloggers in Europe and America quickly realized their monetary value, it was slow going for the Philippines. 

“For the longest time, I did ambassadorships and endorsed brands for free not knowing I could actually earn from these things and not just get freebies,” remembers Co Koro. Earning money from what was originally a hobby was a turning point. 

After college, Uy Young worked as the visual merchandiser for What a Girl Wants, a chain of boutiques she owned with her sisters. “We had 10 branches, and it was taking up most of my time, and when you’re the owner of the company, wala ka talagang tulog (you don’t sleep). Instead of a 9-to-5, it was a 24-hour job,” she says. 

On the side, Uy Young was beginning to get offers from brands. “Instead of free shoes, I’ll give you X amount of pesos to post this on your website,” she recalls. “I was like, ‘hey, this is something I enjoy doing more.’ And when [my blog] started to earn more than what I made at What a Girl Wants, I needed to rethink what I was doing.”

Uy Young’s impending career change and a few other personal matters prompted the sisters to shut down the business and allowed her to pursue blogging full-time. But the industry was uncharted territory. 

“I remember I didn’t know how to ‘price’ myself back then. So together with my blogger friends Laureen (Uy Cruz) and Kryz, we made our rate cards together,” Co Koro says.

To outsider eyes, their lives seemed too good to be true. Brands would send merchandise in the hopes of getting a mention somewhere. (In a 2011 profile, Gosingtian stated that she didn’t even need to shop anymore with the amount of freebies she got.) Bloggers of Gosingtian’s, Co Koro’s, and Uy Young’s caliber were also frequently sent out on breathtaking adventures. 

“My favorites are definitely the trips, especially back in the day during my blogging years. I’ve had some of the most amazing trips and met the most wonderful people because of what I do,” says Co Koro. By the way, it was the launch of What a Girl Wants’ 2010 collection in Cebu where Camille, Kryz, and Laureen met, forming the now iconic Trio.

For Uy Young, freedom was the biggest perk. Having come from a traditional Chinese family where she was forbidden to do anything by herself, blogging gave her the means to cut the apron strings. 

“I couldn’t go on sleepovers, I had to go to the mall with a yaya (household help),” Uy Young exclaims. “But when my parents saw that I was financially free, they allowed me to go off on my own. It was something I never thought I would experience in my whole life—to be so independent of my family and to, financially, be able to do what I want.”

The Instagram Rollout

The Internet became a blogger’s stable, but it was also consistently fickle. Readers’ tastes shifted and often, they demanded more. Technology changed, too. For instance, Instagram’s arrival not only disrupted the established norms of social media but also the fashion industry and marketing as a whole. 

It started innocently enough: a personal photo-sharing app where you could post about your dog or your lunch. However, forward-thinking marketing professionals quickly took advantage. “Likes” were no longer just likes; they were a measure of reach and impact. By 2014, many posts were accompanied by #ad, #sponcon, #sp, and more. 

The top bloggers naturally gravitated towards this new platform. Unlike blogs which depend on readers to find them, on Instagram, your followers are already there and ready to consume. 

“When Instagram boomed, I thought, okay, this is much easier than writing. I’ll just post photos and captions,” says Uy Young “It sounds so shallow and so lame, but actually, there was a learning curve there.”

Back then, social media management wasn’t a profession, so bloggers had to teach themselves how the platform worked. 

“You need to understand how to make yourself grow on that platform, and how to evolve with your audience on these platforms,” she adds. “Eventually it became YouTube, which is a whole new thing because it’s a whole new dynamic. It’s different from Instagram. And then now, there’s TikTok. All these things pushed me to learn and evolve and grow, and also kept me having fun because it wasn’t stagnant.”

If you look at it this way, content creation is really just another business—albeit a very public one. You need to adapt and pivot to survive. The game is about sustaining your relevance and making consumers invested in the product. Only in this case,  the product is yourself. 

Soldiering On

But this business is not for everyone.

“I never imagined blogging would evolve into what it is today,” shares Gosingtian. The soft-spoken, self-described life creator believes her success can be more attributed to timing than anything else. “It’s not that I felt I was the best person for it. I often describe my situation as being in the right place at the right time.” 

“It was exciting, but I was young, naive, and had almost no boundaries,” she adds, confessing that monetizing her work took a toll. Tricia recalls how brands became more arduous and specific with their deliverables. “The demands became more ad-focused, diverging from my true passion of art.” 

Because she was so early in the game, she felt judged for many of her previous choices that have now become standard. “People thought I was being haughty and out of my league. Now, 20 years later, it’s amusing to recall, but as an impressionable introverted young girl, I honestly felt very lonely and isolated,” Gosingtian divulges. 

Her first overblown “scandal” was when Tumblr invited her to New York Fashion Week. Of the 24 guests, she was the only one from Asia. The trip included a brunch with Marie Claire fashion director Nina Garcia. During the meal, which somehow made it online, Gosingtian mentioned that the Philippines “was not fashion forward.”

Her words reached home, and the Filipino fashion world seethed. The backlash became so severe Tricia had no choice but to apologize, admitting that she could have painted the country in a better light. 

In a space where the rules are constantly changing and emotions are high, everything feels as though you’re making things up as you go along. Mistakes are bound to happen. But even when the public is forgiving, the internet keeps receipts.  

While Uy Young’s transition from fashion to family-friendly was typically met with warmth, the response to her podcast was a little more lukewarm. 

The SkyPodCast, which she co-hosts with her husband Slater Young, discusses real-life situations in a very uncensored and candid manner—maybe a little too candid. In one episode, Young opined that it was “very, very normal” for men in committed relationships to fantasize about women in chat groups. Uy Young’s seemingly agreeable reaction further added salt to the wound: “That is just the nature of things. As long as your boyfriend is not cheating, okay lang yan. Sakyan mo lang! (that’s okay, just ride along with it!)”

The response was explosive, from traditional media churning out opinion pieces to Redditors shaking their proverbial heads. Slater eventually apologized and promised that he would hold himself to a higher standard. 

“When you have conversations with someone, especially someone you’re so close to, mine being my husband, you don’t filter what comes out of your mouth. You just say things sometimes without even thinking,” Uy Young tells The Beauty Edit of the scrutiny, which she believes is the worst she’s experienced since becoming a content creator. 

However, the level of openness isn’t something she regrets. Uy Young believes that it brought them closer to their audience. “The conversations are so intimate that our listeners learned how we think, what our opinions are,” she says. Once the top podcast on Spotify, SkyPodCast is currently on hiatus due to work and family commitments (Uy Young gave birth to her third son in June 2024). 

“Having a platform means you’ve got responsibilities—serious ones. This is rule number one,” Gosingtian says, adding that her experience reminded her how much weight her words carried.

It’s a responsibility that Co Koro takes to heart, however. “The worst time for me was when I was so vocal about my political views back in 2021 to 2022 leading up to the elections,” she says.  “It’s hard for content creators to be vocal about these things and I see why so many of my peers refuse to get political online but I felt the need to share my voice and this ruffled quite a few feathers.” Hate invaded her comment sections and inboxes, but she stood her ground. 

“At the end of the day, there’s always the block option when trolls start appearing,” Co Koro adds.

The Limit Exists

In May 2018, at the height of content creation, Gosingtian announced via a final entry that she was quitting blogging. 

“I sort of fell into blogging and turning it into a business by accident, and it blew up way more than I expected. There were times I wasn’t happy but kept going because of FOMO. Sunk cost fallacy,” she says, disclosing that she had mental breakdowns almost daily. In a conversation with Preview one year before she hung up her blogging hat, Gosingtian confessed to locking herself in the bathroom for five minutes during shoots and crying.

The expectations were also far from realistic. “People often told me, ‘I hope you stay the same,’ but in hindsight, this phrase carries a lot of pressure. After all, who stays the same forever?” she mulls.

During her last year of blogging—wherein she discreetly removed the word “blogger” on her page—Gosingtian shares how unworthy she felt seeing her contemporaries having the time of their lives while she was feeling miserable, unable to write or post unless she had to. 

“It became a cycle of creating content that didn’t represent a regular person’s experience. If someone asked me to write about their business, of course, they’d give me special treatment. But was that the typical person’s experience? Could one of my followers walk into a store and enjoy the same treatment I did? I longed for the simplicity of my early days as just a regular Internet user who just happened to have a good, real-world review,” she adds.

And so, Gosingtian shuttered her blog. “The decision wasn’t easy, but it was very empowering as I had decided on the terms of how and when I was going to retire. It’s ironic how deciding to step back felt so freeing,” she notes.

As Gosingtian learned, some of the boundaries take time to build. Uy Young, for example, admits being guilty of oversharing during her early days of motherhood. While many of her followers consumed her content to relate, Uy Young, like any first-time mom, was putting out content to empathize with others.  

“I was a new mom, everything was new to me. I wanted to share it with fellow moms. I wanted to ask, Oh, are you experiencing this too? Are you dealing with tantrums?” she explains. “I didn’t know it could affect [my kids] in the future.” 

While some acrimonious (or concerned) onlookers question the continued exposure of her children, Uy Young is trusting her gut. “I’m still not sure what the proper balance is because this is a very controversial topic, but I’ve spoken to a lot of people, my husband, and other parent content creators who convince me to keep the kids online.”

“The community we’ve built, the relationship I have with my followers is so special. It’s such a positive and safe space,” she continues.

But that’s the paradox when your content is, well, life. Just like in real life, you learn as you go, often in hindsight. “There’s no rule, so I’m taking it one day at a time. I actually stopped showing Scotty on the vlogs before and he got upset because he wanted to be part of it. I’m just still trying to figure it out,” Uy Young confesses. Even in public when fans would ask for photos, she leaves the decision up to the kids. “Sometimes Scotty agrees, and sometimes Sevi joins in. If they don’t want to, I don’t force them.”

Despite the skeptics, if anything, posting about her family is a return to Thirsty Thought, where her goal was always to capture life’s simple, everyday moments.

“Honestly, I can sleep at night because I know that I’m not monetizing them at all. I don’t go out to brands saying, Hey, can you make my kids the star of your commercial? Can you pay me this much? I’m not selling my kids,” Uy Young says. “I’m not letting my kids go to VTRs. When my kids say no video, I turn off the camera. No questions asked at all. I’m just really posting my day-to-day life. That’s what I’ve been doing since 2009.”

Gosingtian has a more future-focused approach. “I believe that consent is crucial, and as I look to the future, I’m thinking about the narrative I’ll share with my children regarding my life and how I’ve integrated them into my work,” she explains. “I’m sensitive to the future they may desire—what if they prefer not to be in the limelight? Any oversharing about them might backfire.”

“I value freedom tremendously and consider it the ultimate gift I can offer my children. I want them to have the freedom to choose their paths when they’re older. I’d hate for them to feel confined by the choices I’ve made or the public exposure they might not have wanted,” she continues.

Though the feeds might make it seem otherwise, the line between their private and public lives is pretty clear.

“Plenty are off-limits,” says Co Koro. “There’s a way to come off as personal, real, and relatable without sharing every single part of your life. I choose what I share which is why you don’t see much of the intimate and everyday parts of my life. These involve personal moments with people who aren’t public figures. I also don’t believe in airing our dirty laundry so that’s also definitely something that’s off limits.”

Finding Comfort 

One of the most popular topics among these OG content creators is to look back at their blogging era and cringe. (“Grabe espasol, gray!” laughs Liz Uy when she dissected Laureen’s 2010s OOTDs in a YouTube video.)

“It’s embarrassing that I posted [them], but [they are] part of who I am. Again, I didn’t do it for the clout, I didn’t do it for the money. I just did it because it was fun for me,” Uy Young says. “I don’t regret doing it at all because it helped me create this community that I have now.”

Co Koro agrees. “They were part of the journey…and uso naman talaga sila before (they were really the trend before).” 

An article in Psychology Today discusses how embracing awkwardness and embarrassment can strengthen your psyche, making you more open and secure. Perhaps the same principle applies to blogging. The “embarrassing” photos are up there. And with the ice broken, these ladies can be comfortable and confident about themselves. 

“My only regret would be the Photoshopping. I Photoshopped too much back in the day. I was young and insecure and I let my insecurities get the best of me,” admits Co Koro who just launched a skincare line CKIN.

For Uy Young, creating content now has never felt more liberating. She admits there was so much more “filtering” in her days as a full-time fashion blogger when she had to paint on smokey eyes and pop on false eyelashes before she could shoot. 

Two things helped put her at ease: YouTube and pregnancy. “I realized, Why am I trying to filter myself? I don’t have the energy to put on makeup so I’m just going to go on YouTube and have this woke-up-like-this look complete with muta (eye crust) in my eyes.” 

When she was pregnant and experiencing symptoms, she didn’t have the energy to put together a polished look. “I was just, I’m going to turn on this camera and show you guys why I haven’t been posting. I think that’s what helped the audience connect with me more.” 

“When I became a mom, I learned to accept my body for what it is and respect it,” Uy Young explains.

Funny enough, she also confesses that her favorite part of producing content is admin: “I love it when I’m not in front of the camera. That’s when I thrive. Right now, I’m just sitting down, I haven’t showered, I’m talking to you and answering some emails, and this is the happiest time of my day, apart from when I’m spending it with my family.” 

Decades in front of the camera also put into perspective what truly mattered. In her farewell post, Gosingtian wrote: “I pictured myself back in 2003, way back when I was perfectly happy even if I only had about 10 active readers and no sponsors.”

“I don’t want life to go through me. I want to be the one to go through life, through all its ups and downs, and enjoy every moment while it lasts,” she blogged.

This shift in priorities required an introspection over her relationship with social media. “I’ve reevaluated my relationship with the tools I use,” Gosingtian tells The Beauty Edit. “While a phone and camera capture memories, I’ve learned I don’t need to share everything to validate an experience.” 

“Trust me to do the right thing without documentation—it’s my ultimate flex,” she continues. “Also, just because you can… doesn’t mean you should.” 

Currently, Gosingtian posts content only on her Instagram where the occasional paid post is blatantly tagged “#ad” or “#sponsored.” After collaborations with numerous clothing companies, she also launched her own line called Hinhin, which she says throws back to the secret life she had when she started blogging. She’s living proof that the internet can accommodate the slow life, too.

Tricia has always been at the starting line when it comes to producing content in the Philippines. Could her resignation usher in the next phase for these creators? Perhaps, perhaps not, especially since Uy Young and Co Koro continue to have fun. One thing is certain though: Fashion blogging is over. Fortunately, what these women do is so much more. And even more fortunately, today’s internet makes room for any type of content out there.