Cover Bianca Bustamante opens up about her rise in the male-dominated world of motorsport, and why she’s just getting started (Photo: Bianca Bustamante)
Bianca Bustamante opens up about her rise in the male-dominated world of motorsport, and why she’s just getting started (Photo: Bianca Bustamante)
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GB3 Championship star Bianca Bustamante opens up about her rise in the male-dominated world of motorsport, and why she’s just getting started
On 5 October, the roar of engines will once again electrify Marina Bay as the Singapore Grand Prix lights up the Formula One calendar. But among the throngs of fans gathering trackside, there’s a different kind of energy building: that of young women—many of them Southeast Asian—who see themselves reflected in one of racing’s brightest new stars.
One young Filipina has become a name to know as she is rewriting what it means to chase motorsport dreams in the most exclusive, expensive and male-dominated sport on earth. Bianca Bustamante, 20 years old and already a history-maker as the first female driver signed to the McLaren Driver Development Programme, represents not just the future of racing, but a redefinition of who belongs on that starting line.
Her ascent has not followed the typical script of privilege and access. In fact, her story—one of sacrifice, discipline and strategic self-branding—is as extraordinary as any victory lap. She is proof that the face of motorsport is changing, and the next generation of contenders may well come from places and people the sport has long overlooked.
Click the player below to listen to our conversation with Bianca Bustamante on Tatler Gen.T’s Crazy Smart Asia podcast.
Born to race
Bustamante does not remember a time before racing. At three years old she was already in a go-kart; by five she was competing; and at six she had won her first national championship in the Philippines. Her father, Raymund, a self-described “frustrated racing driver,” channelled his passion into her, while her mother, Janice, enforced the discipline needed to match it. Yet passion alone could never have financed a motorsport career.
“Even just owning a go-kart was half of my dad’s salary,” she recalls. “We're saving up money so I can enter a race or buy new tyres. It was almost like my whole family had to live for me so I could live my dreams. Her father worked three jobs in America to support her training, while her mother managed life back home, often acting as both parents while raising a child destined to compete in one of the world’s most elite sports.
Read more: The new wave: meet Asia’s rising F1 stars
Above Bustamante started competitive karting at age five (Photo: Instagram/Bianca Bustamante)
Bustamante started competitive karting at age five (Photo: Instagram/Bianca Bustamante)
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She grew up surrounded by competitors whose families treated karting as an expensive hobby. “My parents sat me down and said, if you want to pursue this, you have to make a career out of it. We can’t afford to just have fun and nothing else,” she said. “It's them making me realise how difficult it is and how much of an opportunity this is and I can’t take it for granted.”
The turning point came at age eight, when she won the prestigious Macau Kart Championship with machinery far older and inferior to her rivals. It was a triumph born of skill, not resources. “That victory told me and my parents that we could do this. They mortgaged everything we owned after that. They went all in.”
Such sacrifice could have been suffocating, but Bustamante turned it into fuel. Every lap mattered, every performance had the weight of family sacrifice behind it. “I always thought this race could be my last. I had to make it count.”
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Building the Bianca Bustamante brand
What distinguishes Bustamante from her contemporaries is not only her resilience, but her understanding that modern racing drivers must be more than just athletes. Motorsport is as much about commercial appeal as raw speed. Without sponsors, the road to Formula One is financially insurmountable.
“You have to be the whole package,” she says. “You need to speak well, look well, market yourself, understand business, 10 different things all at once… and still be authentic.”
Her social media presence, which she manages herself, is as carefully honed as her lap times. Fans see not just the racer, but the personality—the young woman who trains obsessively, celebrates small victories, shares behind-the-scenes struggles and even professes a fondness for fruits. “Everywhere I go, they’d always give me fruit platters because everyone knows I love fruits.”
It is authenticity as strategy, and it works: her following has become a powerful currency, making her a marketable proposition to brands as varied as Charlotte Tilbury and GoTyme.
Far from diluting her identity as a serious athlete, her embrace of femininity has sharpened her edge. “Being feminine became my sharpest tool,” she says. “In a masculine sport, that difference made me stand out. It opened doors.”
While some critics might dismiss social media as a distraction, Bustamante sees it as essential to survival. Representation, she believes, is everything: “You have to see one to be one.”
Racing is not relatable. It’s so expensive, so inaccessible. My job is to make my story relatable, to let people see themselves in me
A Filipina on the global grid
To call motorsport “daunting” would be an understatement. It is cutthroat, masculine and unforgiving—an industry where thousands aspire and only a handful make it. For a young woman from the Philippines, the odds were even steeper.
Yet Bustamante has proven not just capable, but competitive. Her trajectory has already seen her survive the financial brink of retirement during the pandemic, only to be pulled back into the sport by Hong Kong racing legend Darryl O’Young, now her manager. Under his guidance, she has ascended to the McLaren Driver Development Programme and secured a seat in the all-female F1 Academy and GB3 Championship.
But for Bustamante, the fight is bigger than herself. She is acutely aware that she is carving out a path not just for her own career, but for the next generation of Filipinas and women globally who dream of motorsport. “The industry is evolving. I see as many women at the track as men now. That shift is happening, and being on the frontline of that change is inspiring.”
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Indeed, her visibility is part of the transformation. The F1 Academy, launched in 2023, races alongside Formula One events worldwide, broadcasting women’s races to millions of viewers. Bustamante’s presence on that grid ensures young girls watching at home see something previous generations could not: a role model who looks like them.
That responsibility is one she embraces. “Half the battle is believing you can make it. And if I can show that to others, then maybe the next generation won’t just believe—they’ll achieve.”
Beyond the glamour of the race, the sport’s future will be shaped by drivers like Bianca Bustamante—outsiders turned insiders, women in a world still dominated by men, athletes who understand that racing today requires not just speed, but story.
From a second-hand kart in Manila to McLaren orange, Bustamante’s every step has been hard-earned, a product of sacrifice and audacity. “I never take no for an answer,” she says. “I’ve wanted this my whole life, and I’ll keep going until I get there.”
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Syrah is Tatler Philippines’ Power & Purpose editor, where she spotlights extraordinary journeys shaping the Philippines and Asia. She covers business, innovation, impact, and culture—chasing the people, ideas and forces shaping how we live and think today.
