FILIPINOS LOVE FAIRYTALES. Who doesn’t want a happily-ever-after filled with gowns, tiaras, and a castle with WiFi strong enough for Instagram reels? But lately, the fairytales trending online aren’t from Disney—they’re from the feed of our very own “Disney Princess Nepo Babies.”
These are the young heirs and heiresses who live like royalty not because they’ve built anything, but because their surnames do the heavy lifting. Their résumés? Short. Their Instagram stories? Endless.
Claudine Co: From Aesthetic to Audit
Enter Exhibit A: Claudine Co.
On social media, she had it all—Paris OOTDs, jet-set vlogs, luxury on tap. The life of a modern princess, right? Until netizens—ever the digital detectives—started digging. They found that her family’s fortune was tied to billions of pesos in government flood-control projects.
Suddenly, her designer bags weren’t just #blessed—they looked suspiciously like they were bought with taxpayer misery.
The internet backlash was so sharp, Claudine’s Instagram was wiped cleaner than a palasyo floor before a state visit. But the damage was done. She had become the face of unchecked privilege in stilettos.
And she’s not alone. Many other “Disney Princesses” from political dynasties and old-money clans are guilty of the same thing: flaunting privilege with zero accountability. Sparkle on the outside, substance missing on the inside.
Kris Aquino: The OG Nepo Baby Who Paid Her Dues
Now, let’s be fair. Nepo babies aren’t automatically villains. Case in point: Kris Aquino.
She was the original nepo baby—the youngest daughter of President Cory Aquino, sister to President Noynoy Aquino. Her last name was a master key. But here’s the twist: Kris didn’t just walk into the castle—she put in the work to run the whole kingdom.
In the 2000s, you literally could not escape her. She was everywhere: Morning shows, Evening game shows, Blockbuster movies, Late-night tell-alls, and Weekend showbiz roundups
And on top of that? Endorsements galore. From fried chicken to fabric softener—Kris Aquino sold it all. She was called the “Queen of All Media” for a reason: she hustled.
But here’s what makes her different: she left receipts. Literal, BIR-certified receipts.
Between 2008 and 2015, Kris Aquino paid ₱322,098,558.74 in income tax.
Highlights:
• 2008: ₱25.4M (Top #8 taxpayer)
• 2011: ₱49.87M (Ranked #1 taxpayer in the Philippines)
• 2014: ₱54.53M (Top #6)
• 2015: ₱61.74M (massive, even without a ranking)
Pause for effect: Kris Aquino paid more in one year than some billionaires who hide behind accountants and shell companies. She didn’t just reign in showbiz—she did her civic duty.
What This Says About Us
Claudine’s downfall shows us one truth: privilege without accountability is ugly. People will always call it out.
Kris, on the other hand, proved that if you’re born into privilege, you can still earn legitimacy—through hard work, transparency, and yes, paying the taxes that most elites try to dodge.
Names open doors, but hustle builds legacies. The problem with today’s “Disney Princesses” is that they confuse glitter with grit.
And here’s the kicker: our culture enables it. We like watching them flaunt privilege on TikTok because it feels like a fairytale. But fairytales without responsibility just turn into expensive soap operas—and we’ve had enough of those.
Reality Check
Today’s feeds look like a Disney Channel marathon: princesses posing with designer bags, sipping champagne at 21, hashtagging #blessed. The plot twist? The fairy godmother is actually your taxpayer money.
Meanwhile, Kris Aquino in her prime was paying more in taxes than some taipans, juggling five shows, enduring scandals, and still telling us about her allergies in detail. Love her or hate her, she earned her tiara.
The new batch of “Disney Princess Nepo Babies” are fun memes. But they also reveal something rotten about us—we celebrate privilege, not performance.
Kris Aquino? She proved a nepo baby can flip the script: from sparkle to substance, from privilege to productivity, from name to legacy.
So the next time a new “princess” trends, ask: Is she paying ₱50M in taxes—or just paying for her next Chanel?
Because in the Philippines, true royalty isn’t about tiaras. It’s about tax receipts.