Sitting in her bright and colorful apartment, she plays the perfect hostess while discussing philosophical questions that have daunted mankind since the time of Galileo. She is a 21st-century visionary rooted in ideas from 19th-century revolutionaries. An activist aware of the deep divisions between social classes and the man-made problem of poverty, Helena addresses these issues with a sharp, practical, business instinct.

It seems whatever project Helena puts her hands on can be transformed into an object of beauty. Whether it is a small, intimate party, a piece of jewelry, or an elaborate gown, to the architectural plans for building a community, no project or undertaking is impossible. Helena lives her life like an endless work-in-progress, constantly evolving, but always true to the creative force within.

Helena Carratala was born in Barcelona, Spain, on July 13, 1951 to a university professor and a mother who loved the arts. Her father educated her in matters of history and the great philosophers, while her mother taught her womanly things such as "how to walk in high heels and sip champagne without smearing your lipstick."

Helena shares a genetic love for the Philippines. Her genealogy reveals her paternal grandmother lived on the islands before the Spanish-American war of 1898. Helena remembers how her grandmother would cook sinigang and arroz caldo. From her grandmother’s baul emerged delicate clothes made of pina fiber. These images and stories of the Philippines stayed in her mind as she was growing up. It was a foreshadowing of things to come, and when Helena met her future husband in a cafe near her school in the autumn of 1966, the journey began.

In 1969, Helena first came to the Philippines as the 18-year-old bride of Wahoo Guerrero, a photographer, and the son of the very prominent Roces-Guerrero family of the publishing industry. At once, the strong-willed Spanish girl made quite an impression on Manila’s high society circles with her striking appearance and strong character.

In 1971, the Prietos, who owned the Pierre Cardin boutique in Malate, brought in a young Jean-Paul Gaultier to be head designer of the shop. Since he could not speak any English, Helena (who could speak French, Spanish, English and was a quick study in Tagalog) was hired to be his translator and assistant, accompanying him everywhere. Over the next three years, the two became very good friends. When time came for Jean-Paul to leave Manila, the young Helena was asked, "What will you do when I am gone?" He saw talent and potential in her, and encouraged her to become a designer. She protested that she did not even know the basics of draping, but Gaultier volunteered to teach her. During the last six months of his stay in Manila, Gaultier gave the young Helena a crash course in draping, drawing, and dressmaking.

"A dress is a three-dimensional piece of art. The very first thing you must learn is how to drape over a mannequin or a real live model, and then you go draw the pattern on paper," she explains.

From 1974 to 1982, Helena slowly found her way and grew into the feisty, independent woman her father wanted her to be. When Gaultier left, she learned to work on her own, starting out by hiring master cutter Flora de Leon, who had already 30 years’ experience under her belt working for Pitoy Moreno, Aureo, Valera and Joe Salazar. Theirs was a collaboration that lasted over two decades.

In the beginning, Helena stuck with her name for her clothing brand Azabache (Spanish for "jet black") despite the contrary opinions of everyone around her. She was told, "Filipinos will never wear black."

Budding tycoon Henry Sy was just about to open ShoeMart in Makati in September of 1976. Determined to make her idea work, Helena slaved over the merchandise display to meet the opening day of SM, dressing windows in the designer area of the department store only five days after the birth of her second daughter. True to her vision, the retail market snatched up her creations, and from a mere two racks in a small area in SM, Azabache grew into a respectable business. Everywhere an SM opened, the label could be found. Along with concessions in Singapore, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and Tokyo and another branch in Robinsons, Azabache became synonymous with edgy ready-to-wear, and Helena Guerrero became the "it" girl of haute couture and high society.

By now Helena was well known for her lavish costume parties and grand entrances. The Manila society crowd was always wondering what she would think of next. After all her years of toil and building a brand which nobody thought would take off, the family still saw her as the young, free-spirited and willful creature who needed constant amusement. Helena had grown up and was now a serious designer. It was time to leave and try her luck in the Big Apple. It was a major turning point. She was 32 years old. The decision was made. She had to give up Azabache, hand over the business, leave her marriage, her beloved Philippines, and start afresh. In 1982, Helena flew to New York with her two young daughters Katya and Tanya in tow, with just a little borrowed cash and a big dream.

"New York was a humbling experience for me," recalls Helena. "But I learned a lot." Her designs were sold at Saks, Neiman Marcus, Bergdorf-Goodman, Bloomingale’s, and Macy’s department stores. Self-financing was a great challenge and Helena recalls, "It seemed everyone else was making money from my labels. The banker who bought my receivables, the department store, everyone except Helena!"

After a turbulent period when three good friends of Helena’s succumbed to AIDS, she sat down and made a list of all her talents. She decided she would no longer prostitute her design concepts. So Helena entered the restaurant business. "More for the theater aspect of it than for the food."

Helena simply channeled her creative energy from fashion into food over the next decade. After the tragic events of September 11, 2001, she eventually sold her gourmet take-out business, her catering company and two restaurants, and, yes, even the lovely house in the Hamptons.

Her ever-supportive husband, Richard Mander (a furniture-maker of Mayflower stock and former staff of Sister Parish, the grand dame of interior design), gave her the encouragement and the freedom to begin another chapter of her life.

Apart from the hereditary affiliation with the Philippines, it was Helena’s involvement in the rights of immigrants, and the birth of her grandchild in April of 2004 that were the catalysts for her return to the archipelago.

"I had reinvented myself into a political activist. But something happened after the birth of my granddaughter. And when I came back, I was surprised by the love I found here and had no idea how much impact my work in design had in this country. So much that 25 years on, people still remember me fondly. I am grateful for that love."

Helena explains that if one could recapture the magic, the allure that made people remember Azabache and how it held them, one could magnify that and put it into a bigger project that would involve the cooperation of a lot of creative thinkers, and those who work with their hands.

"If I look at my 54 years of life I can patch them all into one. As an artist, a designer, an activist, all these different parts of me are finding expression in Mangenguey."

The utopian mission of Mangenguey is to use the creative force of the arts and humanities to encourage out-of-the-box entrepreneurship, building a society that is self-sufficient, producing goods without abusing nature or exploiting people, and distributing wealth among its members equitably.

In Helena’s model of Mangenguey, the spirit of self-reliance reigns. Preservation of nature, the human spirit, and the traditional crafts, empowering people to take their livelihood into their own hands, form the core values. The spirit of Mangenguey encourages people to take the initiative rather than simply wait for government to help them.

Early feminist Elizabeth Cady Stanton said this back in 1895, "Women are the agents of utopia." In the year 2006, Helena Carratala sees herself as the vehicle and agent of social change in the grand vision of Mangenguey.

"The world is in very bad shape these days, on all levels. The problems facing mankind today are still the same problems since time immemorial. How do we take away poverty? How do we narrow the gap between rich and poor? There was the French Revolution, the EDSA revolution, still the problems are the same. How do we live without everything boiling down to whether an idea is useful in the material world or not?"

Through the preservation of the heritage of indigenous crafts and nurturing discourse among artists and the creative community, the island home of Mangenguey will be the initial step towards a Renaissance of lifestyles.

This is where the idea will be of utmost importance, internationalism and creativity are the core concepts, and objects of beauty are products that concretize this mode of thinking. "Beauty should not be the property of the rich alone. Yes, artists and creators have benefited from patrons, but there should never be a monopoly on beauty."

In the mind of a visionary, anything is possible.