The recent uproar sparked by BINI's snack tasting video on "
People Vs Food" has quickly spiraled into a baffling and unwarranted wave of criticism against our nation's P-Pop darlings. While public commentary is essential, the swift condemnation of these young women as "maarte" or "un-Filipino" because of their reactions to certain local delicacies is not only deeply unfair but fundamentally misunderstands what it means to embody modern Filipino identity. It's time to set the record straight: BINI's genuine connection to their heritage and their individual tastes stand distinct from any perceived lack of national pride.
Humility, not haughtiness
Accusations that BINI members are "maarte" or "acting rich" quickly fall apart when confronted with their own candid remarks. Consider a telling moment from the tasting video, where a member commented on mamon: "We can only buy this if we have a lot of money. Yeah, it's true. It's for rich [kids]." This isn't pretentiousness. It's a raw display of humility and undeniable relatability. Her words reveal a past where even seemingly common treats like mamon were considered luxuries, often out of reach. That simple revelation shatters any notion of them "feeling rich" or being disconnected. What we hear, instead, is an honest reflection of socio-economic realities in the Philippines, straight from their own lives.
Picky eaters? So what?
Another point of contention is that they might be picky eaters. And to that, we should simply say: So what? Everyone has food preferences. To demand that every Filipino, celebrity or not, must universally adore every single local delicacy is absurd. We don't all like the same things, and that's perfectly normal. Criticizing them for having individual tastes is akin to criticizing someone for preferring coffee over tea – it's a personal choice, not a moral failing.
Language and authenticity
The demand that BINI be "more Filipino" often collides head-on with another, often unspoken, expectation of "celebrity perfection." Yet, these ladies regularly spoke in Tagalog or Taglish throughout the video to express themselves more comfortably. It's a testament to their authenticity and their desire to convey thoughts clearly, rather than forcing perfect English. Some critics, bafflingly, even typed out, "act pretentious if you can already speak perfect English." This sentiment lays bare a profound elitism and linguistic snobbery. We readily celebrate, even find charm in, Korean pop stars attempting English, even with mistakes. So why do we hold Filipino celebrities to an impossible standard of linguistic perfection before granting them the same freedom of expression or genuine reactions? To accuse BINI of being inauthentic while simultaneously faulting their English proficiency is a baffling and hypocritical double standard.
Unrealistic expectations
The bar for celebrities often rests at an impossible height. We expect them to be perfect, politically correct, universally knowledgeable, and unfailingly agreeable. This is an unattainable standard for anyone, let alone young artists who are still growing and learning. These are still very young women, and it's perfectly fine for them to not know everything, or to simply have varied experiences. Their reactions? They're just normal young people trying things, certainly not issuing cultural manifestos.
Furthermore, they're not committing a crime. Having a strong reaction to a food item, even one beloved by others, is not illegal or immoral. The vitriol directed at them is disproportionate to the "offense."
Self-correction
To truly grasp BINI's self-awareness and authentic group dynamic, consider the balut segment. There, a playful yet telling exclamation from Stacey cut through the reactions: "My god, you guys are fake Filipino!" This particular quip serves as potent evidence against claims that they are out of touch. Far from an insult or serious accusation, this was pure, light-hearted, self-aware banter among friends. The playful comment not only revealed their authentic, perhaps surprised or humorous, reaction to the balut; it also powerfully signaled their complete awareness of the food's cultural significance and the unwritten rule that a "real Filipino" should embrace it. They were self-aware enough to joke about their own reaction in light of that cultural standard. They know what the expectation is, even if their personal palate doesn't always align.
This was not an isolated incident. Throughout the video, BINI members consistently corrected each other and elaborated on their initial thoughts. Consider the turon lover: she gave it a 9 not because she disliked turon, but because the specific ones served in the episode had too much caramelized sugar coating. Or the taho, which scored a five not as a rejection of the classic comfort snack, but because some members simply preferred smaller pearls over the larger sago served.
These are subtle distinctions, not blanket rejections of Filipino food. The video felt less like a rigid, planned performance and more like candid glimpses of friends who truly experience something. Their playful group dynamic and readiness to joke about their own palates is a sign of comfort and authenticity, not disrespect.
Telling BINI to eat like Filipinos, then shaming them for flinching, is cultural policing dressed up as patriotism. —
WALPHS.com
