In an interview with The GUIDON last year, former Preview Beauty and Fashion Editor Anna Canlas said, “Any truly insidious fashion trend has to do with music.” At the time, Canlas was crediting the ubiquity of the so-called tribal print to the rise of festival fashion, which was rooted in electronic dance music.
Although music festivals continue to be popular, the landscape of street style has visibly moved away from the festival grounds. It is a shift that information design junior Sean Bautista calls the rise of urban elegance. This brand of sophistication, while not entirely new, has come to be epitomized by Ursus et Cervus, Bautista’s lifestyle brand.
Much like its founder, the brand is best characterized by quiet ambition. No longer content with being just a street wear line, Ursus is on its way to becoming an artistic platform for the young, talented and equally ambitious.
The curator
Soft-spoken and unassuming, Bautista sees fashion as a form of conversation. His distinct uniform—camp caps by Supreme and horn-rimmed glasses by the Japanese brand Matsuda—is his preferred means of personal branding.
“A number of people tag me as a hipster, which I’ve never really understood,” he explains. “The way I dress just consists of what aligns with my personal aesthetic. I’ve always loved the juxtaposition of old and new, which is why I like wearing clothes from heritage classic brands as well as more contemporary street wear.”
The name Ursus et Cervus itself, Latin for “the bear and the stag,” comes from this personal aesthetic. According to him, “the bear is a visual metaphor for urban youth culture in the sense that it’s a liberal and undomesticated animal. In contrast, the stag represents maturity and sophistication. We want to blur the lines between conventional and contemporary by creating a new brand of urban elegance.”
Bautista may be at the core of Ursus, but he emphasizes that Ursus is bigger than him. Although it began solely as a clothing line in 2012 because it was the most manageable way for him to start out, he had always intended for it to welcome talented individuals across different fields. “I feel like I’m a curator of people. My role is to bring seemingly different individuals under one roof, much like how art curators bring in works from different artists and bring it together in one cohesive exhibit or installation,” he muses.
Overseeing this group is Lifestore Director Bianca Carague, who ensures that everything stays true to the brand’s aesthetic. Lifestore refers to the clothing line, which has recently been expanded to include accessories and home décor. An industrial design junior at the College of St. Benilde, Carague makes the decisions regarding the physical manifestations of the brand and the feasibility of their projects. Although she is a bona fide multitasker, she is far from alone.
“There are a bunch of us that contribute to the brand, and we all play vital roles,” she says. “The publication team produces the site’s written content, the creatives provide the brand with visuals, the marketing team handles logistics and operations.”
While Bautista may not have intended for Ursus’ line of street wear to define the brand, it is definitely the biggest contributor to its success. Still, he has other plans.
“The clothing line was just a means for Ursus et Cervus to establish itself as a brand,” he says. “I never meant for the clothing to be its only aspect.”
JACK OF ALL TRADES. When it comes to Bautista’s plans for Ursus, the clothing line is just the tip of the iceberg. (Photo by Arielle A. Acosta)
The bear and the stag
Few brands are smart enough to ride the wave of a trend at its get-go; even fewer are able to start—or re-start—worldwide trends with examples of their personal taste. What Karl Lagerfeld did with the athletic footwear in Chanel’sSpring 2014 show is an example of the former. As for Phoebe Philo, both her work for Céline and her personal style have helped instigate a reprise of the ‘90s movement.
As Preview contributor Karen Bolilia sees it, “fashion has always been reactionary. Something always counters the prevailing standards of dress.” Ursus may be seen as a rebellion against the mainstream, but it has also been smart (or fortunate) enough to accompany the rise of the hip-hop and artisanal movement.
“We like using handcrafted and artisanal processes without sacrificing the look of modern design,” Bautista explains. At Ursus’ publication launch at Yardstick last March, racks of its street wear were on display as a pop-up store. Made using traditional silk-screening processes and designed using modern typefaces and structured grids, the Ursus logo is distinctive without being flashy. This use of branding calls to mind the way hip-hop music has influenced fashion in recent years.
“Hip-hop musicians no longer subscribe to the uniform of oversized everything, gold chain and grill,” explains Gisella Velasco (BS CTM ‘14), co-founder of Fly Art, a popular blog that mixes classical paintings with hip-hop lyrics. Velasco attributes the rise—and subsequent rejection—of logomania in the past few years to this observation. People still want to display their superiority, albeit at a subtler level. “Aside from Chanel and the other big fashion houses, people now want to show the Nike check or the Adidas three stripes, because it illustrates a [more subtle] sense of being elite.”
This is a trend not just abroad, but also within the Ateneo. [blockquote author=”Gisella Velasco, Co-founder, Fly Art” pull=”pullright”]“The music that the youth are listening to influences the way that they dress. So if they listen to hip-hop and see the musicians they admire dressing this way, they’ll do the same. You only need to sit on SEC Walk and count the Nike Frees and Flyknits to see it.”[/blockquote]
When it comes to Ursus, Bautista finds that much of his work is heavily influenced by music as well. “I draw influence from the songs, the album art, the musician’s personal style. Whatever music I’m open to influences the way [the brand] looks today.” While he does admit to a love of hip hop, Bautista is similarly influenced by electronic and nu-wave. This distinctively subtle aesthetic that Ursus employs can be traced back to many things: The artisanal movement, the return of ‘90s minimalism, Kanye. Plurality is Bautista’s top priority and it’s what continues to define both the brand and the collective.
The kids are all right
Once a brand has branched out into a dozen different directions, most people assume that it’s bound to run out of ideas sooner or later. Bautista sees things differently: The publication and the clothing line are mere steps to Ursus’ ultimate goal of building a platform for creatives without an avenue to share their work. This is the reason why Ursus began and why it plans to stay.
Before he launched the clothing line in late 2012, the idea of a collective was always at the back of his head. “I’ve always wanted to create a platform for my talented friends who didn’t have the avenue to share their work,” he says. “I think a lot of talents—writing, taking photographs—are put to waste because there aren’t enough opportunities. I thought what better way to utilize [these talents] than by starting a publication and a lifestore?”
Bautista is someone who will relentlessly defend young creatives; Bolilia is the same. When asked what it’s like to work in the local fashion industry, the latter admits that from an editorial standpoint, it’s tough. “Magazines here don’t have a closet of samples for an editorial. Ready-to-wear isn’t the bread and butter of the designers here; it’s bridal and custom-made. Small things like that contribute to the difficulties, but I like to think we’re thriving anyway. Slowly, but there’s a movement there.”
Perhaps what will end up making Ursus et Cervus last won’t be the movements the brand has risen with, but the one they’re going to start. If Bautista succeeds in establishing Ursus as a platform, the same way he’s succeeded with Ursus the brand, then the future certainly looks bright. Either way, Sean Bautista has our attention.
