It’s not easy being Heart Evangelista these days. Once the darling of Instagram for her couture gowns, curated Hermès collections, and err, diamond-encrusted everything, she now finds herself in the middle of an online crossfire. What was once aspirational is now being branded as tone-deaf.
The shift in mood didn’t happen in a vacuum. Lately, other “inspo-glam” influencers have come under fire after being linked to contractors behind the infamous ghost flood-control projects that allegedly siphoned billions from the nation’s coffers.
With the Marcos administration ordering lifestyle checks and the public growing weary of excess, the appetite for flaunted wealth has soured. And Heart, unfortunately, makes for an easy target.
Why? Simple. She is not just a celebrity — she is the wife of Senate President Francis “Chiz” Escudero. And Chiz, as the rumor mill delights in reminding us, has been accused of cozying up to both the Dutertes and the Marcoses to keep his power intact. From supposedly “bamboozling” the impeachment case against Sara Duterte to presiding over a Senate that looks suspiciously gentle on flood-related controversies, the optics are less than flattering. Against this political backdrop, Heart’s couture-fueled posts suddenly look less like harmless glamor and more like gilded distractions.
And yet, to people who actually know her, Heart is no villain. She’s described as kind, generous, even down-to-earth.
Then again, she is obviously out of touch, tone-deaf. When netizens once dragged her for putting an 11-million peso Bulgari necklace on her rescue dog, she breezily replied: “I own the necklace, you know. I can do whatever I want…”
Part of her defense has always been her pedigree. Heart is an Ongpauco, heir to the family behind the Barrio Fiesta restaurant chain. But let’s be honest: Barrio Fiesta is no Jollibee or McDonald’s. It’s a storied name, yes, but hardly a global fast-food juggernaut. Which is why her recent TikTok posts, a not-so-subtle reminder that she has “always been rich,” felt more like damage control than a casual flex. The timing was questionable: why underline your old-money roots right when people are accusing you of living large off your husband’s political ties?
Then there’s the uncomfortable question of taxes. For someone supposedly “old rich,” dripping in couture, and forever trending in luxury magazines, Heart doesn’t appear on the Bureau of Internal Revenue’s list of the country’s top taxpayers. It’s the sort of detail that makes critics raise a perfectly arched brow: if the wealth is that solid, why not show it in filings as well as in outfits?
Now Heart is stuck in a classic showbiz bind. If she keeps up her brand — all glamor, all the time — she risks alienating the public further. But if she tones it down, she’ll invite whispers that she’s hiding something, or worse, admitting guilt. Either way, she loses the thing she has always sold best: effortlessness.
It’s unfair, yes. But it’s also the nature of the fame game. Think Imelda Marcos. When the country is flooded with corruption scandals, literal and figurative, even the smallest diamond earring can feel like too much.
Like I said, it’s hard to be Heart Evangelista these days.
