In her terms: Anne Curtis reflects on family, purpose, advocacy and the roles that matter most now

This visual narrative seamlessly intertwined with her profound personal appreciation for the House of Gucci, now guided by the visionary Demna. She possesses an acute, highly trained understanding of the brand’s evolution, noting how deeply she resonates with Demna’s take on the legacy. She recalls her time in Milan, where she had the privilege of wearing pieces from the Gucci La Famiglia collection, marvelling at how grand they were and how each distinct character had an outfit meticulously crafted to go alongside it. Yet, it was the Gucci Primavera collection that struck a truly visceral chord. For a woman who came of age in the spotlight, the collection’s early 2000s sensibility—the structural bodycon dresses and the audacious sparkles, paired with trendy smoky eyeshadow—felt like a nostalgic homecoming. “It’s something that reminded me of who I was,” Curtis reflects. Her memory lingers fondly on a specific, coveted runway piece, previously worn by the model Emily Ratajkowski aka Emrata, that miraculously fit her “literally like a glove” during a fitting for the Gucci Cruise show. To her eye, Italian craftsmanship represents an enduring ideal: it has always been “chic and timeless, but there’s always a touch of fun”. It is, rather fittingly, a perfect summation of her own enduring appeal. “That’s very me,” she says.

Yet, beneath the polished veneer of high fashion editorials lies a staggering work ethic forged in the vibrant, fiercely dynamic landscape of Philippine show business. While she moves with the effortless grace of a style icon, she is simultaneously pushing herself to the absolute limits of her physical and emotional endurance. For nearly four years, she has been quietly entrenched in the monumental production of BuyBust The Undesirables. A highly ambitious, nine-episode Netflix series serving as a sequel to the critically acclaimed 2018 cinematic tour de force directed by Erik Matti, the project is a relentless exercise in sheer stamina.

When she initially accepted the monumental role, it was born from an undeniable creative hunger. “I miss doing action, I miss doing something like that,” she tells Tatler. But the reality of an intense project that unexpectedly stretches into a four-year endeavour is a test of sheer endurance that rapidly strips away all glamour. The production demanded she be locked in for an entire month in a remote, old mining area in the Philippines—a far cry from the manicured luxury of fashion capitals like Milan or New York. She speaks candidly of the physical exhaustion and the long shoot nights that tested her resolve. “Each time, when I feel like ‘I’m just so tired, I want it to be done’... and then I see the preview and I was just like, ‘Oh my gosh, this is so worth it’,” she confesses, validating the huge sacrifice. The protracted timeline is a direct consequence of the series’s epic cinematic scale, a philosophy where absolutely “no scene is a small scene”. It is a massive, collective effort by a dedicated team to elevate a Filipino narrative to a genuinely global scale.

This intense dedication perfectly aligns with her broader, fiercely patriotic vision for the local entertainment industry. She watches the meteoric, culturally dominant rise of Korean and Thai dramas with a blend of admiration and hope for her own country. “Come on, we got this Philippines, we can do it!” Curtis declares, a rallying cry backed by her unshakeable belief in the abundance of world-class directors, actors and writers in the country. While pragmatically acknowledging that fundamental sectors like education must rightly remain the nation’s primary concern, she advocates for strategic government support—vital tax incentives or streamlined permitting processes—that could exponentially help create more beautiful, globally competitive films. She remains fiercely optimistic, observing that Filipinos are already actively supporting local cinema and joyfully returning to the theatres, as she observed this year when her movie with prolific actor Jericho Rosales titled, The Loved One, earned PhP300 million globally as of writing.

This cinematic grit is fascinatingly counterbalanced by her enduring presence on It’s Showtime, the daily lunchtime variety show where she has been a beloved fixture for almost two decades. Live television is a notoriously unforgiving medium that eats the unprepared alive, yet she approaches it with a lightness that borders on the magical. The secret to this longevity is a rare, unmanufactured authenticity. “The banter [among us hosts] is natural; it’s not forced,” Curtis explains. While they adhere strictly to scripts for games and other mechanics, the joyous camaraderie among the hosts is a living, breathing dynamic. “That’s why bawal kaming nag-aaway-away [we can’t fight one another] because it’ll be too obvious,” she notes. Having started the show when they were all incredibly young, they have forged a familial bond that keeps them eternally young at heart, providing a joyous, spontaneous anchor to her heavily structured life.

To survive, let alone unequivocally thrive, for nearly three decades in an industry she herself describes as potentially “vicious” requires a formidable resilience and an unwavering sense of self. Fame is a double-edged sword, and protecting one’s peace within its glaring spotlight is an art form she has painstakingly mastered. As a widely cited modern icon of Filipino womanhood, true empowerment for her transcends mere aesthetics; it is rooted in unshakeable conviction. It means “being comfortable with making a stand for what you believe in”, especially within a societal framework still heavily burdened by misogyny. She observes with pride how women are increasingly using their powerful voices to demand equal pay and claim rightful seats at executive tables, effectively proving that “gone are the days when the CEOs are just men”. To her, empowerment is having the confidence to intimately know your intrinsic worth and make your commanding presence felt.

This confidence was thrust into the national spotlight when a political figure made highly inappropriate, unsolicited public comments regarding her. The timing was cinematic in its chaos: she was travelling from Milan to Dubai to celebrate her daughter Dahlia’s birthday when the news broke. Concurrently, a terrifying crisis was unfolding with a bombing over Dubai. Her immediate, unguarded reaction was a masterclass in perspective and boundary-setting: “I’m like, you’re the least of my problems [now]. I’ll deal with it when I get back”. She harbours a disdain for the media circus and deliberately avoided the theatricality of an official press conference. Instead, leaning heavily on the quiet, steadfast support of her husband, Erwan Heussaff, she eventually released a carefully considered statement because, quite simply, “It just felt wrong if I didn’t speak up”, she shares.

The incident unexpectedly birthed an outpouring of public support from both women and men across the archipelago, transforming a moment of disrespect into a nationwide dialogue about fundamental decency.  In June, the Philippines’s House of Representatives had ordered the congressman to issue her a public apology, perform voluntary community service and undergo a gender sensitivity seminar.

 She hopes the ordeal serves as a definitive, lasting societal eye-opener, asserting firmly that “treating a woman like that on public platforms… it’s just not okay to speak about women in that nature”. Yet, she refuses to grant the individual any further media mileage. Instead, she chooses to rigorously protect her hard-won peace through a highly cultivated philosophical approach she expertly dubs the “art of dedma”. Rooted in the Filipino colloquialism for completely ignoring someone or playing deaf to an issue, she applies this as a strict philosophy of paying absolutely no mind to the irrelevant and deliberately ignoring those who merely want a reaction. “If it’s really not worth your time... Let it go,” she advises astutely. If engaging won’t make a monumental difference, she concludes with practical finality, “I save my energy”.

Her clear sense of priorities also dictates her career choices. In 2012, Hollywood beckoned with an offer to sign with a management agency in Los Angeles. It is the dream that derails many, but she possessed the rare clarity to respectfully decline. Pursuing it meant abandoning her loyal audience, her hard-earned career and her massive, sold-out Araneta Coliseum concerts in the Philippines, as the Hollywood machinery required her constant physical presence for relentless auditions. “Do I regret not pursuing that? No, because I have what I have here in the country that I love,” Curtis states, her voice teeming with joy. Yet, the dreamer within her remains vibrantly alive. Her ultimate professional aspiration now is not geographical, but artistic: to have a film proudly showcased at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival. While she admits to being invited to walk the famed Cannes red carpet as an ambassador for luxury brands, the devoted, purist actor adamantly insists that her first appearance there must be to represent a piece of cinema. family, advocacy and Legacy

For all her global aspirations and high-fashion excursions, her evolution has occurred quietly, away from the limelight. Marriage and motherhood have fundamentally shifted the gravitational pull of her life. While it may not drastically dictate the artistic nature of the roles she accepts, it dictates the logistics of her existence. Her demanding, multi-hyphenate professional schedule now revolves entirely around her daughter Dahlia. As Dahlia approaches a new school year starting in September, her calendar bends to accommodate her daughter’s schedule. “The moment it’s school vacation, I’m out. I’m on that family vacation mode,” Curtis declares with a maternal finality that supersedes any showbiz commitment. 

Her protective, motherly instinct naturally extends outward as she utilises her platform to advocate fiercely for children’s rights, working closely and consistently with Unicef. She is actively invested in addressing critical societal issues that rarely make the glamour pages, such as the alarming decline of immunisation in the far-flung, marginalised areas of the Philippines, among others. It is a tangible, impactful extension of the absolute core value she hopes to impart to Dahlia as she navigates the complexities of growing up: pure, unadulterated kindness. While teaching a young girl self-worth is a given for any mother, kindness holds a truly special, overarching place in her heart. “If there’s anything my dad imparted to me and it’s something that I hold to this day, it’s the kindness that you show to other people because you obviously don’t know what that person could be going through,” she reflects. Curtis emphasises the importance of looking people squarely in the eye, saying thank you, and being genuinely polite. “I think the best thing you could do as a human being is to be kind to other people,” she states beautifully, effectively summarising her entire ethos.

Born in Australia, she originally arrived in the Philippines in 1997 for what was supposed to be a regular family holiday to visit her mother’s relatives. She was unexpectedly approached to do commercial castings, fell into the rhythmic machinery of the industry, and simply never left. When her career inevitably experienced a lull during her student years and her father gently, practically suggested returning to Australia to study, she stubbornly refused to surrender her dream. Proudly standing as a Gen.T Leader of  Today and an honouree from the inaugural 2016 Tatler Gen.T list, her enduring legacy is a powerful testament to unyielding perseverance. “Dream big but work hard to make those dreams happen,” she urges the next generation, vehemently warning against the hollow allure of taking shortcuts. In an era dictated by the fleeting nature of social media, where overnight success is common but incredibly fragile, she remains a staunch, traditional believer in putting in the arduous time. “As fast as you get up there, you can fall just as fast,” she warns with the wisdom of a survivor. She built her remarkable, enduring empire not overnight, but over nearly three decades—armed with a little bit of fun, a formidable work ethic and an infinitely kind heart.

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