The Sexbomb Girls Like Being on Top

Formed in 1999 by choreographer Joy Cancio, the group began as a quartet of background dancers for the “Meron o Wala” (later renamed “Laban o Bawi”) segment of Eat Bulaga. The girls eventually became known as the SexBomb Dancers after host Joey de Leon coined the name on the show.

Rochelle was part of the original four and became the only one remaining after her co-members left between 2000 and 2001. To replenish the troupe, Joy enlisted young women through Eat Bulaga’s now-defunct “TeeVee Babe” pageant and kept an eye out for potential SexBombs wherever she could find them.

Mia Pangyarihan, for one, was simply a fan of the original quartet who wanted a peek inside their rehearsal studio. One of Joy’s secretaries met her and immediately saw the potential. “Baka gusto ko raw mag-audition, pero sabi ko na ayaw ko kasi hindi naman ako talaga sumasayaw,” she recalls. After a little nudge and some training, Mia soon debuted as part of the second batch of SexBombs.

Aifha Medina, meanwhile, was just an audience member hoping to catch the noontime show live—until she ended up being scouted. Then there’s Cynthia Yapchiongco, who was discovered casually by Joy at a wet market.

“Bumibili siya ng isda tapos nakita niya akong nagbabalat ng hipon,” she narrates. “Sabi ko, ‘Kilala kita, parang nakikita kita sa TV.’ Tapos sabi niya, ‘Ako yung manager ng SexBomb. Gusto mo ba maging SexBomb?’”

Cynthia was hesitant given her lack of skill at the time, but Joy encouraged her, saying she would have a month to train. Her parameters were straightforward: “‘Pag marunong ka na mag-split, puwede ka nang isalang.”

The SexBomb Girls grew in number over the years, with one batch added to the roster after another. To date, about 60 women have been part of the group. Some joined as a way to actualize a simple dream of appearing on TV (“Pinagkalat ng nanay ko na abangan ako sa Eat Bulaga,” Cynthia remembers when she first told her parents about her new gig), while others saw it as a means to provide for their families.

Aira, the group’s "Dance Warrior," became a SexBomb after she captured Joy’s attention at an amateur dance contest. While the idea initially bewildered her, the invitation became more promising when she realized how her talents could translate into income. “I had no idea that it would help my family financially,” she looks back. “We were poor, and I came from a broken family, so I actually joined dance contests to win money for them.”

The girls became staples on Eat Bulaga, evolving from shimmying in the background to staging full-blown production numbers. Once they hit the stage at the Broadway Centrum, everyone looked forward to chanting “laban, laban o bawi, bawi” and letting out a boisterous “Get, Get, Aw!”

Come 2002, the group leaned fully into their musical ambitions and released their debut album, Unang Putok, which spawned mega-hits such as “Bakit Papa?”, “‘Di Ko Na Mapipigilan,” and “Pretty Little Baby.”

Banking on their unexpected popularity, the group was cast as the leads of the 2003 drama anthology series Daisy Siete. The show ran for 26 seasons and concluded after an impressive seven-year run. “Naging actors na kami na nakikita sa TV. Mas naging visible kami,” Aifha says of the project. “Mas na-recognize na kami ng mga tao. Walang social media noon, so doon kami nakilala talaga.”

And of course, there’s living pop culture emblem Jopay Paguia. In 2004, the pioneering member became the muse of a ballad by OPM band Mayonnaise, and soon everyone was echoing the opening lines and asking her how she was doing. “Oh! Sikat pala ako!” she recalls feeling when she first heard about the song. “‘Di ko alam na ganun pala kalakas ang impact ng ginagawa namin. Sinabi nga ng nanay ko sa akin na, ‘Ikaw lang sa buong Pilipinas ang ginawan ng ganyang kanta!’”

For a solid decade, the girls were everyone’s obsession. From Monday to Sunday, they had their regular stints on Eat Bulaga, tapings for Daisy Siete, guestings on talk shows like Sis, and production numbers on SOP. They were inescapable.

It reached a chaotic point where they were even banned from performing at a mall because of the commotion they caused. “Hindi pa kami lumalabas ng van, sinabihan na kami na hindi na matutuloy yung mall show,” Mia narrates from memory. “Kasi sobrang wild na nung mga tao. Bumagsak na yung stage. Punong-puno na yung mall—parang naging dagat daw ng tao.”

Such instances, as comical as they may seem, illustrate the magnetic pull the group had. It became clear that they were no longer just accessories or antics, but bona fide superstars who had earned their luster.

The ascent was temporarily halted in 2010. Tensions had reemerged between their manager, Joy Cancio, and the management of Eat Bulaga. “Nagte-taping kami ng Daisy Siete tas binabalita ang usapan. Nagkababaan daw ng telepono,” Rochelle recounted in a past interview. “Nakausap ko si ate Joy. Umiiyak siya. So umalis kami ng Broadway [Centrum.] Pumunta kami sa kanya.”

The girls understood that there were serious misunderstandings between the two parties, which prompted Joy to pull them out of the show. “During that time, we loved performing at Eat Bulaga kasi yun yung moment to shine namin. At ‘pag wala kaming Eat Bulaga, wala kaming sweldo,” Aira shares.

As a group, they ultimately chose to follow their manager’s decision not to appear on the noontime slot. “Ginusto naming mag-Eat Bulaga, pero since manager namin si ate Joy, kinailangan namin siyang sundin,” Aifha explains.

Their momentum began to lose steam from that point on. In their absence, the girls were replaced by the EB Babes as the variety show’s main dancers. After Daisy Siete aired its final episode, members started resigning from the group one by one. They officially went on hiatus a year later.

“Syempre malungkot,” Sunshine Garcia expresses of the disbandment. “Parang hindi ako makapaniwala na sa tagal kong kasama yung mga taong ito, maghihiwalay pa rin pala kami.” While most of the members eventually found work in different pockets of show business, it was still difficult to grasp how swiftly their world had shifted. Many were left feeling lost or confused. “Show biz is really not permanent,” Aira reflects. Some dove into acting, while others pursued business ventures or prioritized building a family.

Despite going their separate ways, the girls remained close, gathering annually for Christmas parties or running into each other at studios. What was missing, however, was closure between them and their fans. “Bigla lang tayo nawala,” Aira recalls Rochelle telling them in a text one day.

A leader through and through, Rochelle had a compelling proposal for the group: “Tara, mag-concert tayo. Bigyan natin ng something yung mga fans kasi wala tayong closure.”

It was a ballsy idea, especially considering how long they had been away from the scene. “May fans pa ba tayo? May tatanggap pa ba sa atin?” Mia remembers wondering. The doubt deepened when no sponsors or producers initially expressed interest in the show.

While it was something they wanted to do for the fans, it also became a way to tie up loose ends. As Sunshine puts it, “Ginawa namin yung concert para ma-close ang chapter na naiwan namin. ‘Di maganda yung ending. May unfinished business kami na dapat naming ayusin. Kaya ang sabi ko nga, pwede ba naming i-rewrite?”

There were many considerations when choosing a venue, but for Jopay, a reunion of this gravity demanded nothing less than the country's biggest stage. “Noong nagpa-plan pa lang, personally, alam ko’ng magiging successful ito,” she admits. “Kaya hindi [impossible] yung mag-Araneta kami. If you want to have a concert, you hold it at the biggest venue. You pray for that.”

And so, the Get! Get! Get, Get, Aw! The SexBomb Reunion Concert was set in motion. At first, they were skeptical of the excitement people expressed on social media, doubtful that it would translate to ticket sales. But come December 4, the girls were met with a massive arena filled to the brim with old and new fans alike. Each person sang along to their hit tracks, did their viral dance routines, and cheered to their heart’s content.

"[Hindi namin] in-expect na ganito kalaki 'yong suporta at pagmamahal sa'min ng lahat ng pinalaki ng Sexbomb. Kaya ngayon, nao-overwhelm kami nang sobra," Rochelle once expressed to Karen Davila. From her perspective, nostalgia played a huge role in bringing fans together after all these years. “Kaya sila nagdatingan, gusto nilang makawala at bumalik doon sa kabataan nila and 'yon po 'yong nangyari,” she articulates.

Mia echoes the sentiment, adding that they never thought they’d have so many people patiently waiting for them. She tells Preview, “Hindi talaga namin in-expect na may naiwan kami sa puso ng mga tao. After 15 years, akala talaga namin na wala na kami e.”

In hindsight, she was mentally prepared to perform in front of sparsely occupied seats, but it wouldn’t matter as much to her. What would matter is who she would be sharing the stage with.

"Ginusto lang namin mag-concert ulit, na makapag-perform kaming lahat sa isang malaking venue. Mapuno man 'yon o hindi, ang importante, kami yung kumpleto… Kaya nagulat kami sa balik nung tao sa amin. Sobra siyang unexpected.”

The SexBomb Girls have not only rewritten how their story once ended—they’ve also begun writing entirely new chapters. Aside from more rAWnds of their comeback concerts, they are also set to top-bill the Aurora Music Festival this May alongside SB19 and IV of Spades. The consistent clamor for all things SexBomb, decades after they first debuted, shows just how deeply they’ve embedded themselves in pop culture.

During their time away from the limelight, the generation “na pinalaki ng Sexbomb” kept their presence alive. Lyrics and choreography aside, it’s the group’s sheer fighting spirit that has resonated most with their supporters. Wardrobe malfunctions or technical difficulties may happen, but what matters is that they keep going.

No one understands this better than Aira, who can faceplant onstage or incur wounds yet still dance through them as if nothing happened. “The show must always go on,” she says.

Offstage, the women—now all proudly in their 40s—have always carried a reputation for being fighters. It goes all the way back to how they started on Eat Bulaga. “Lagi naming sinasabi yung, ‘Laban, laban o bawi, bawi!’” Sunshine illustrates. “And ang iniisip agad ng mga tao pag narinig yung ‘laban’ ay kaming mga SexBomb.”

“Maraming darating na problema at pagsubok sa buhay, pero kailangan nating lumaban. Doon siguro nakuha ng mga tao na hindi tayo pinalaki ng SexBomb para bumawi.”

This indomitable fighting spirit reveals how the SexBomb Girls have defined their womanhood on their own terms. While they all have varying personalities, none are submissive to life’s trials or to the expectations society places on them. Through a conservative lens, they may be seen as scantily clad, but their outfits have never dictated what they were capable of.

They’ve also grown to embrace where they came from, never mind the public perception that once looked down on them. “Kahit sabihin ng mga tao na hindi kami class, na jologs kami, hindi kami nagpatinag,” Sunshine states. “Happy ako na nag-stay ako dahil hindi ito ang magiging kwento ng buhay ko kung hindi ako naging SexBomb. Hindi ako makakapasok sa industriyang ito. Hindi ko mami-meet yung mga taong nasa paligid ko ngayon kung hindi ako nag-SexBomb.”

More than anything, the girls have proven that a woman does, indeed, provide. Years later, they can proudly look back and see how they’ve supported those most important to them. “Lahat kami dumaan talaga sa wala,” Aifha says. “Lahat kami nag-start as mga bata na gustong tumulong sa pamilya.”

“Kada sayaw at kada kembot ko, para sa pamilya ko ’yun,” Aira illustrates. “Yung napaaral ko yung mga kapatid ko at nakapagtayo ako ng bahay—yun ang resulta ng paghihirap ko bilang SexBomb.”

As they reap the fruits of their labor, the SexBomb Girls return the love to the fans who never let them fade. Whether they tuned into Eat Bulaga all those years ago or discovered their music on TikTok, these individuals are the reason the group keeps coming back. “Lahat binibigay namin para lang mabigyan [ang mga fans namin] ng magandang performance. Sukli ’yun sa pagmamahal na binibigay nila sa amin,” Aira expresses.

Jopay adds, “Wala ’yung mga pangalan namin ngayon kung hindi dahil sa suporta ng mga fans. Kung hindi dahil sa mga hiyawan nila. Parte talaga sila ng buhay namin.”

In retrospect, the SexBomb Girls never really “left” or “ended.” Cultural phenomena of their magnitude don’t simply disappear—they evolve, resurfacing in arenas and algorithms alike. And if the day ever comes for them to take their final bow, there’s no doubt the people who grew up with them will keep the spirit alive.

After all, who raised them?