Finding yourself in possession of youth, privilege, and good looks often
When we meet Michael, he is running late coming from another media interview, one of many that are regularly sandwiched in between early morning store visits and office meetings with his team, because a lot of people are interested in him—and rightfully so. After all, Michael is smart, attractive, and running a growing enterprise at the age of 24.
Many will agree that nothing about Michael’s charmed life happened by chance, except maybe the part about having been born next in line to the throne of the Unilever RFM Ice Cream empire. The eldest child of John and Peachy Concepcion, he is the natural successor to the corporation that sells what is perhaps the best-known brand of ice cream in the Philippines. Although Michael immersed himself in the family business for a few years, eventually leading the company is miles away from his mind, at least for the time being, as he’s busy running his own business. In 2011, he put up Ronnie & Joe, an eyewear store that has since evolved into a retail distribution company. The name pays homage to his twin grandfathers, Ronnie and Joe Concepcion (Michael’s father is the son of Jose Concepcion Jr.), but that’s where his family’s influence ends.
“I had always been a little bit different from my friends growing up. When a lot of their interests had to do with being a normal 16-year-old, I had already envisioned what I wanted to be doing later on in life.”
Those who know Michael weren’t too surprised when he ventured into opening a store, considering he’s been an entrepreneur for nearly eight years. While still in high school at La Salle Greenhills, Michael co-founded a clothing label, Greater Good, with his cousin Christian Concepcion. Originally built as Christian’s college thesis, Greater Good integrated social consciousness into its business model, which spawned a store in SM Mall of Asia three years later. “I won’t ever say I regret the experience,
It was a good compromise for Michael. He was passionate about eyewear and all things alternative to the mainstream, and that, coupled with his existing background in retail, convinced him to start his own company. Seeing an opportunity to capitalize on a gap in the market, he drew up a wish list of 30 brands that he wanted to introduce to the local market. Then, he wrote to each of the brands via e-mail, pitching a possible partnership in Manila, even without a brick-and-mortar store to speak of at the time. “We got several rejection letters saying, ‘Sorry, we’re not interested in the Philippines, there’s nothing there for us,’” he recalls. “And some of them were like, ‘What
Unfazed, Michael held on to the plan. At the top of his list was Moscot, an optical store founded in New York’s Lower East Side in 1915. He reached out to the company with a message saying he would be visiting in Manhattan, could they give him five minutes for a business presentation? They said yes. Michael flew to New York two months later and was surprised to find out he would be meeting with the company president, Harvey Moscot, and vice president, Wendy Simmons. “I thought, ‘Oh, shit,’” Michael recounts, grinning. “I had just turned 21 and was starting college at the time, but I didn’t tell them that. I dodged the question of my age and I walked into the meeting extremely confident, extremely passionate about their brand, and with a clear vision. I think they saw that, and they fell in love with my idea. That was huge for us.”
“And I don’t want to be a jack of all trades. I want to be really good at what I do.”
Michael began flying to Singapore, Japan, and Europe in search of ideas, setting up meetings with prospective partners along the way. Today the Ronnie & Joe boutiques exclusively carry a number of upmarket brands—from Karen Walker, Barton Perreira, and Thom Browne to Matsuda, Ksubi, and Cutler and Gross—that wouldn’t likely have found their way to Manila otherwise. Michael commissioned Ed Calma to design the three locations with the directive to inject a luxurious, modern, urban feel into each space. “I felt that eyewear was always looked at as a necessity, and we wanted to disrupt the industry and convince everyone that eyewear boutiques should be treated as lifestyle and fashion concepts. They shouldn’t be next to supermarkets,” he says.
Michael continues, “Funnily enough, when we first got in touch with these brands, they were considered ‘indie’ here in the Philippines, but already there’s been a shift in the paradigm, and now they’re the popular guys.”
From an optical salon, Ronnie & Joe has grown into a retail company that’s preparing to launch more similarly considered boutiques purveying not only
Ambitious, assertive, and straightforward, Michael is a doer in every sense of the word. He has smart, well-formed opinions on many things. He’s unafraid to assert himself, a characteristic that has helped him categorically decide on whether certain pursuits would lead to a solid career path. In the last five years, he has tried his hand at various things, from hosting a television show in 2012 to starting an events group, Manila Pop Up, with Erwan Heussaff and Dee Jae Paeste in 2013. Manila Pop Up was a fun venture, but
“I had my own vision, and I knew I had so much more to offer. I knew I could provide valid input to the episode, concept, even set design. I’d sit and do what they asked me to do, but I didn’t like the idea that I was just there as a mannequin.”
A brief stint on television helped Michael realize that what he really wanted was to be involved in every aspect of a project. It makes sense that building his own business was the best way to ensure that. “I’ve never been shy about being in front of a camera, so when they asked me if I wanted to try it, I went to the audition, and they liked me. But I quickly found it wasn’t for me.” Asked how that dawned on him, Michael responds, almost sheepishly, “I felt that I wanted to tell them how to do their job behind the camera,” he says. “I had my own vision, and I knew I had so much more to offer. I knew I could provide valid input to the episode, concept, even set design. I’d sit and do what they asked me to do, but I didn’t like the idea that I was just there as a mannequin.”
The school of thought that generalizes millennials, the generation born between 1980 to 2000, as lazy and entitled plagues many young people today, and Michael is familiar with it, though not for the reasons you might think. “I don’t want to generalize, but man, it’s really true. It’s so often that you see that weird sense of entitlement,” he says. “It’s a
It’s funny that Michael says this from a detached
I ask him if having an enormously accomplished father and grandfather
This story originally appeared on Townandcountry.ph.
* Minor edits have been made by the Esquiremag.ph editors.