He is a regular fixture in Tondo, Manila. His name has been passed down from generation to generation – mother to daughter, daughter to granddaughter. Dory, they call him.

Others call him “Doris,” a reference to the flashing signage of Dory's Salon that once dominated the busiest corners of Tondo where his beauty salons proudly stood.

But that was years ago.

Gone were the comforts of his swiveling thrones where clamoring customers once sat, the gleaming mirrors, and the fragrance of high class perfumes, powder and make-up.

Now he roams the very same streets where he once ruled. Armed with an umbrella, a plastic basket dangling in his arm, and colorful dresses with missing sequins and loose threads, Dory continues to go about what has been his business for years – beauty.

On March 7, 2016, Dory will turn 100. He may be old, "ancient" even, but despite his failing eyesight and reflex, retirement is still far from his mind. He insists that he still has a lot to offer.

The yesteryears

Dory was not always the flamboyant character his Tondo neighbors have come to know.

He was born Teodoro Ilagan to a family from Guagua, Pampanga. He is the second among 15 siblings. His father, along with the other males in the family, worked as barbers for horses.

At night, Dory said he always helped his mother cook “binatog” which they would sell the next morning around the neighborhood.

Despite working hard, he said his family hated him for being gay.

“Sampung taon pa lang ako malandi na ako,” Dory recalled. “Mga kapatid ko galit sa akin dahil bakla ako. Ayaw nila nang may kapatid na bakla.”

When he was 15, he said he had enough. He packed his things, left his family, and went to Manila in search of a better life.

He hopped from one family to another doing everything from
cleaning the house to washing and ironing clothes until he met other gays who tagged him along and taught him the skills to become a beautician.

Golden years

Dory worked for different salons in the city. Little by little, he learned how to cut, curl and style hair, do nails and even sew dresses.

He said he even used to sing in different bars, even funerals. He also managed an all-female band and other entertainers bound for Japan.

“Ang mga manganganta ko limang babae pero ‘pag hiniling na ng mga tao ‘si Dory naman, si Dory naman,’ kumakanta ako,” he said laughing. “Walang kasing saya ang buhay ko noon.”

He said he has just one weakness: boys. He started naming some guys he went after: there was a policeman, a local politician, and former neighbors.

But one day, Dory met The One.

His name is Tony. Dory said he met him in Pritil and that Tony was handsome and quite wealthy. They fell in love and called each other “abay,” meaning “kuya.”

“Sabi niya ‘huwag ka nang mag-service’. Kasi hanggang gabi ako nagse-service noong bata ako,” Dory said. “Sabi niya ‘kunin mo na ‘yung kanto, magtayo ka [ng parlor]. Sabi ko wala akong pera. Ginawa niya, siya nagdeposito.”

One by one, with the help of Tony, Dory’s salons sprang up in different areas of Manila. He named a few that he can still remember: one in Tayuman, in Felix Huertas, and in Pajo.

His name became synonymous with his trade. He also rented out dresses and fancy suits for men. Dory’s salons became one-stop shops for those who want to be beautiful.

Life was good, Dory said. His business was doing well, and he had a loving man beside him.

One day, however, Dory decided it was time for him to let go of Tony.

“Pinapag-asawa ko ng babae. Nakalagay sa Bibliya ang lalaki para sa babae, hindi para sa bakla,” Dory said. “Sabi ko sa kanya hindi kita pinag-asawa dahil ayaw ko sa ‘yo. Gusto kita kaya lang sundin natin ang Bibliya.”

Though hesitant, Tony obliged and married a woman.

“Unang gabi nila, sa akin pa natulog. Sabi ko ‘ba’t dito ka natulog eh unang gabi ng kasal mo?’” Dory recalled. “Sabi niya ‘eh ikaw lang naman may gustong mag-asawa ako.”

Dory does not know where Tony is now or if he is still alive. Dory said all he knew is that Tony had five children, had fancy cars and a beautiful home. He said Tony sent him money before but he never saw him again.

To this day, Dory keeps an old painting of him and Tony in his room just above his bed. And although boys would still come and go in his life, Dory said there is only one Tony in his life, one “abay”, one love.

"Hanggang ngayon kasa-kasama ko siya. Ayun sa kwarto ko,” Dory said referring to the painting.

Trying years

Dory could no longer remember when or how it happened, but one day he had a stroke. His blood sugar shot up resulting to a complication in his lungs, and everything changed.

One by one, he had to sell his salons to support his medication until one day when he woke up, everything that he and Tony built was gone.

But as soon as he got better, he started working again. Working, he said, became his therapy.

"Kaya ako naglalakad kasi siyempre na-stroke, kailangan lakad ng lakad... exercise," Dory said.

These days, he wakes up at 3 a.m., gets a few bites of bread for breakfast, and then proceeds to wash his clothes and to clean his room.

He lives in a room owned by his sister, his only sibling who is still alive. He used to pay P1,500 for rent, but since life is tough, he can no longer pay the amount.

At 6 a.m., he prepares to leave while muttering a short prayer: “Tulungan mo ako, Ama. Lalakad na ako. Bigyan mo ako ng lakas ng katawan para makamtan ko ang biyaya mong nauukol sa akin.”

And so begins his daily journey.

From Laperal Street near the Pritil Public Market, Dory makes his way through the many alleys of Tondo, calling from house to house for those who are still interested in availing of his service. He moves slowly, avoiding the many bumps and cracks on the pavement, careful not to slip on dank and dark passages.

One of his loyal clients is 85-year old Purita. It was her birthday so she wanted to have her hair curled.

She said she has known Dory since she was in her 20s, back when the streets of Tondo would close down Friday and Saturday nights for parties and pageants.

There was dancing, she said. Tango, rhumba, swing – name it, and she and Dory would strut their stuff under the soft glow of blinking lights, and the audience would cheer loudly, smiling in awe of their graceful moves.

“Masarap kasama mga bakla. Pero ako tagapagtanggol nila. ‘Pag luluko-luko, kukuwartahan sila ng mga lalaki, ‘hoy walang kuwarta ‘yan, nasa ‘kin pera ng mga ‘yan, manghingi kayo, huwag ninyong kinukuha lahat ng pera,” she said.

As Purita reminisces about their colorful past, Dory was focused on his job.

He opened the bottle of curling fluid and attempted to pour some in another bottle. His hands were shaking that a generous amount of liquid spilled on the floor. He did not mind. He proceeded and maneuvered the way he has done, decade after decade. He snipped at the hair, parted it, splashed it with the liquid, and twisted it with numerous curlers.

There is no fixed price to Dory’s services. On good days, he would earn P500, which will be divided for his food, medication, and savings.

“Kasi mabait ako, mapagkawanggawa. Minsan P100, minsan P50, gamot lang binabayaran,” he said laughing. “Ito namang pagse-service ko, kumita lang ako maski P100, P200 natutuwa na ‘ko. May pangkain na ako.”

Lunch is not a problem. Food stalls would offer him free meals since he only eats fish and vegetables and three mouthfuls of rice. “I’m diabetic,” he reminded.

Come 2 or 3 p.m., after he had made his way through Divisoria and the nooks and crannies of Tondo, Dory would start making his way back home.

At 5 p.m., he would eat his dinner, always an instant coffee and a few bites of bread. Then he would sleep, saving his energy for another day of hard work.

Twilight

As he turns 100, Dory said he does not regret any of his decisions. He said he had a good life – had a good business, had them boys, had the love of his life, and the love of those who still remember him. He said his parents accepted him eventually as both died under his care.

He admitted there came a point in his life when he wished he had someone to grow old with. And so when he and Tony were still together, he took in a child who was "sold" to him by a friend for P1,000. He named her Doreen.

Dory and Tony took care of the child like their own. But Dory said Doreen, then still in Grade 5, told him she does not want to go to school anymore and wanted to work as a beautician like him.

So he taught her his trade. But Dory said Doreen was a bad girl and slept with different men.

“Ipinagtapat ko na ‘ikaw, hindi kita anak, inampon kita, itinuring kitang anak. Ngayon kung ‘yan ang gusto mo, lumayo ka sa poder ko,’” Dory said. “Wala rin akong suwerte. Sabi mag-ampon ka para ‘pag tanda mo. Hindi. Sama lang ng loob ang ibinigay sa ‘kin.”

And so life went on for Dory, who worked for himself and no one else. He may have a sister, a bunch of nieces, nephews, and grandchildren, but he said he never asked money from them.

“Kanya-kanya siyempreng takbo ng buhay. Basta parang wala kaming intindihan,” he said.

Aside from the money he earns as a beautician, Dory also offers for rentals his old gowns, wigs, and men’s suits – remnants of his former salons.

He appeared in a documentary film, a television game show and public service show where he was given cash, a television set and other items. Since his appearances on television, people would sometimes go to his house to offer help.

“Tinatabi ko ‘yung iba para kung magkasakit ako. Mahirap nang manghingi, para kang pulubi,” he said.

Life is hard nowadays, Dory admitted. But he said he is happy and there is no stopping him from doing his craft. He said he is still a man, and men are always tough.

As long as God would allow him to live, be it another 10 or 20 years or even another 100, he vowed to endure -- to continue to sing even without the flashing lights, the cheering of adoring crowds, and the signage bearing his name for everyone to see.

“Pangarap ko na maibalik ang dati kong buhay. Pero mahirap na rin maibalik dahil matanda na ako. Hindi na ‘ko mag-iinteres na mabalik pa. Basta makaraos na lang ako sa aking pamumuhay," he said.