Blog post 1| Scrunchie Monster

Wearing one of my first scrunchies

This first posting is kinda the back story of why I chose the name onse - the Tagalog word for (eleven)…

I was eleven years old when my Dad died. I didn’t cry. My idea of dealing with it was making a playlist for the funeral and choreographing my brother and cousins to dance down the aisles as the coffin made its way down the middle of the church. The big adults did not approve. I settled for the playlist and excerpts from the bible which in my mind was far less memorable. Dad would have let me do the dance because like all girls - I was his princess.

Up until the age of eleven, things were pretty sweet. For various reasons, and a story far too long to write - my parents weren’t around much, so I spent my spare time rollerblading through the neighbourhood, painting, having fruit fights or water bomb battles with the other kids, and creating concerts in my living room, convinced I was performing for the masses.

When it came to fashion, I was always finding interesting ways to refashion my outfits - think scrunchies stacked in my hair, on my wrists, and even on my ankles.My Dad would even let me tie as many as I could in his curly hair and flip his eyes lids back chasing us round the house as the Scrunchie Monster. I was a weird and wild and I’ve managed to stay that way. I’m an eleven year old at heart.

Criz x