BJ Pascual proves that his artistry knows no bounds—whatever title attached.
If omnipresence in Philippine fashion photography exists, then BJ Pascual has it at a close range. In his 15 years as a photographer, his name has appeared in the credits of hundreds of celebrated works, having been behind the lens of the country’s household names to international stars like Coco Rocha and Troye Sivan.
But one afternoon, his famed name popped up somewhere else, in the form of a notification from my messages app. It was a link to one of his Instagram posts—a video of Anna Wintour attached with a blunt call-out to a fellow photographer, who he felt had implied him at a public radio show.

“I got to watch the interview that the photographer did,” he recalls. “And marami nga nagsasabi sa akin na parang ako talaga ’yun. Medyo obvious na ako talaga siya.”
The 35-year-old recounts the pandemic-era interview of the unnamed photographer, who, under the guise of advice for budding artists, addressed the duality of creatives who balance the thin line of artist and influencer. “Basically, he was just saying, ‘Bato-bato sa langit. You’re dependent on social media for your presence. Ano ba? Photographer ka ba? Or makeup artist ka ba? Or gusto mo na maging celebrity? Because you need to choose.’”
During the midst of it, BJ had come from a shoot with him as the subject and en route to another with him as the photographer. To say the least, he was admittedly affected. In response, BJ posted the Instagram carousel, which began with a clip of Anna Wintour’s Oxford Union address in 2015.
There, Anna stood with “unorthodox” advice to a crowd of academics. “Don’t become over-specialized. Be intellectually free. Try lots of different things,” she said. “Especially in this age of media. It’s crucial to have multiple interests and skill sets.”
And if “jack of all trades” left a bad taste to some highly specialized artists, creatives like BJ revel in the wide expanse, with opportunities ripe for the picking in the fast-paced world now ruled by social media. “Master of none” wasn’t the underlying note–for BJ, the photographer and the content creator, it was the perfect chance to weave both well.
Before representing big brands like Estée Lauder and Calvin Klein, and years before the dichotomy of the “celebrity” and the “artist” came about, BJ found his calling in the world of photography.
Raised in a traditional household filled with lawyers, doctors, and the professional lot, BJ found his first steps into the creative world through hours spent dabbling in web design, hunched over his computer. One thing led to another, and BJ co-helmed a T-shirt business for his student organization at De La Salle University. In hindsight, it was the birth of a burgeoning interest in fashion photography, as BJ rifled through the works of Richard Avedon and Stephen Meisel, and lurked through a number of LiveJournal communities in between classes.

ON BJ: Denim Jacket and Boxers, CALVIN KLEIN.
But it wasn’t until a couple of years into the business when he felt he became the real deal. “Before kasi, I was always afraid to call myself a photographer,” he says. “I think the moment I considered myself one was my first ever editorial for Preview.”
BJ recollects that personal defining moment when he was tapped to be a photographer’s assistant for an issue. “At the time, Preview was the hardest magazine to get into. I was already shooting professionally for probably like two or three years. I’ve done like every other magazine except Preview. I took that opportunity na rin, because this would be my foot in.”
The job was for an editorial lensed by the visiting photographer from New York, Danilo Hess, shot on location at Caramoan Island. While at a stopover mid-trip, then-editor Anna Canlas had shown former creative director Vince Uy his portfolio, with BJ there to witness it all.

“He was just like, ‘Okay. Nice.’ Sabi lang niya ganyan. So I was like, parang hindi niya nagustuhan,” he recounts. “But when we landed in Manila, may tumawag kay Vince.”
The other voice on the line was former editor-in-chief Pauline Juan, who delivered news of needing to reshoot an editorial, a few days shy before the issue had to be closed. In BJ’s head, he had mentally crossed his fingers to get the stint—a hopeful wish which became real in a jiffy, when Vince suggested him for the shoot.
The result was a glossy spread dubbed “Billie Jean,” a thing of fate to BJ, who, he notes, shares the same initials as its title. To him, it was one of the biggest turning points of his career, which a decade or so later, set off the domino effect that led to 300 magazine covers and more shoots fronted by the most recognizable figures in the industry.

In 2015, BJ took the pieces of wisdom he had collected in his time in the industry into a book titled Push: Muses, Mischief, & How to Make It in Manila. And while it chronicled his journey as a sought-after fashion photographer, the book also became one of the onsets of his new following and a potential audience on his route to “influence”—in the literal sense of the word.
“After the book came out, nagkaroon ako ng fan club. They call themselves ‘BJ Pasquad.’ They’re witty!” BJ remarks.
With Push released to the world, the photographer found a following similar to those of whom he regularly snapped. During the pandemic, his followers—some of whom have also stepped into the creative industry, too—had clamored for a sequel. But instead of an actual book, the second edition of Push manifested itself on another platform, which harnessed BJ’s unique standing in the social media scene: the vlog.

ON BJ: T-shirt and Briefs, CALVIN KLEIN.
However, the idea of starting a YouTube channel wasn’t one at the forefront of his mind then. In a conversation with actress Liza Soberano, BJ professed that he hadn’t planned on venturing into this new realm of content creation, saying that it felt like “too much work” for someone who was knee-deep in “hustle culture.” But much like many things for creatives, the pandemic changed that.
“There was a lot of conversation about essential work. Noon, parang feeling ko hindi naman essential ’yung photography. In my mind, baka after the pandemic, wala na akong trabaho. So I had to spread my wings,” he says. “Around the same time, I thought YouTube would be a great extension of the book to reach a new generation of creators.”

And so, the YouTube channel was born. Like Push, the video format peeked into the scenes that were often not privy to the public audience. The Musings series spotlit conversations with celebrities and creatives, pulling the veil that divided the polished product on Instagram and portfolios, against the nitty-gritty of the hard work behind the camera. Despite his initial hesitation in vlogging, BJ calls it a “great decision.”
“It really showed people how much effort we creatives do. We don’t just take pictures of pretty people in pretty clothes. We also make an effort to really conceptualize and get our references right,” he explains. “And at the time [of the pandemic], it generated jobs for us.”
Yet, the fine line between “influencing” and photography had blurred to some naysayers. When BJ’s channel had gained traction, he recalls a few complaints from industry regulars. “Some photographers were saying na, ‘Why is he sharing everything?’”

In one instance, an article had pigeonholed him as the “celebrities’ best friend,” a striking descriptor among the rest of the photographers that lauded their work and their work alone. “It still kinda hurts me pag ganun ’yung narrative,” he admits.
“I started in the industry na wala akong kilala. I was really climbing up from nowhere,” BJ explains. “And all those celebrities I became ‘besties’ with are people I met through work. They would get me because they liked how they looked in my pictures, or they liked my work. They’re not just gonna get me because ma-chika ako or whatever.”

BJ venturing into “influencing”—or to the land of being an “artista,” which he regards in a tongue-in-cheek manner—has raised a few eyebrows for the traditional crowd of creatives, one which heightened during the much-publicized radio segment.
“Before this, I would always minimize ’yung mga influencer work or mga in-front-of-the-camera work,” he says. “I would say no to a lot of things, because I always thought people would take me less seriously as a photographer if I do all these influencer things.”

ON BJ: Polo shirt, CALVIN KLEIN.
But with a dose of practicality amid an industry that can often turn its tide, things had clicked, and he paid no heed to criticism like this. “All these influencer jobs saved me from the pandemic. Because literally, walang shoots, but there were still a lot of paid influencer jobs. My whole team was relying on me. Thanks to these influencer jobs, I did not stop giving full salaries to my whole team.”
“After that, I was just like... You know what? There's nothing wrong with it,” he says, and he’s resolute. “It's part of the business. I don't really care what they say.”
Despite unapologetically embracing his role in front of the camera, he doesn’t advocate for the false narrative that he leaned more on the influencer side. To BJ, the title as “photographer” remains first and foremost, if given the choice. “Most of my work is still shoots,” he says. “Hindi ko pinapabayaan ’yung photography. It's my day job, while doing all these things.”
While others thought the line between his two roles had blurred, in BJ’s eyes, the divide was clear. “I really try to keep it separate. Because for photography, that’s what I do best. I’m more confident with my work as a photographer. I can go on autopilot when I’m in a shoot. I don’t need much brain power to get through a shoot, because that’s what I really do.”
“But ’dun sa being in front of the camera, it takes more energy for me,” he explains. “And I’m still learning how to do it properly.”

ON BJ: Pants and Briefs, CALVIN KLEIN.
However, there are often times when BJ’s two worlds often intersect in perfect synergy. Recently, the photographer had put on his proverbial brand ambassador cap and flew to Tokyo, Japan for Calvin Klein's Fall 2023 global event. There, BJ stood among the likes of Thai actor Bright Vachirawit, Korean star Rowoon, and K-pop juggernaut Jung Kook of BTS. BJ had fronted the Philippines, but he, too, thought of it as something that broadened his first passion, especially when meeting his industry idols-turned-peers.
“One advantage of the whole thing was the Calvin Klein global event in Japan. I was so happy when I found out Leslie Kee was shooting,” BJ says, referencing the Singaporean photographer. “I’ve been a fan since 2011, so I got to meet Leslie, and now we message each other on WhatsApp. It’s nice that this is also opening doors for me in the global space.”

Other than that, his ideologies are staunch in both fields. As a media star, BJ is firm in representing brands that speak to him and reflect his values as a person, especially as a Filipino LGBTQ+ representative. As both a photographer and a content creator, he prioritizes lifting up other creatives, especially his younger successors in the scene. “I love being around creatives and giving off everyone’s energy,” he says. “Ayoko lang mangyari ’din sa next generation ’yung ginawa sa akin ng mga the ones before me.”
As an artist, the ever-changing media landscape is a double-edged sword, with an influx of information that can turn into inspiration for someone who can wield it well. But to BJ, who’s one pitch-perfect example of those who do, the advice for his fellow artists is as sharp as ever. “Don't get lost in the mess of information online. Take it in, but keep in mind that you are working to make the best version of your work.”
“I always say, your vision is your ammunition,” he says. “That’s what’s gonna make your work you.”
Produced and Styled by BJ Pascual
Photographer: Regine David
Story: Katrina Maisie Cabral
Shot in Tokyo, Japan
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