In the high-stakes world of Philippine politics and entertainment, few figures command as much quiet respect as Lucy Torres-Gomez. Currently serving as the Mayor of Ormoc City and formerly the Congresswoman for the fourth district of Leyte, her trajectory has been one of steady, dignified service.

However, beneath the polished exterior of the “angelic” politician lies a history of enduring one of the most sensational and bizarre smear campaigns in the history of Philippine show business. In 2004, a narrative emerged that threatened to dismantle her reputation entirely—a claim that this porcelain-skinned beauty was secretly a serial shoplifter and a kleptomaniac.

To understand the gravity of the scandal, one must first recognize the status Lucy held in the early 2000s. She was not just an actress; she was a cultural icon of grace. Married to Richard Gomez, one of the country’s biggest leading men, Lucy was often compared to a “living saint” or a Hollywood starlet.

Her image was so pristine that it made her the perfect target for a “fall from grace” narrative. The controversy began with a whisper in the halls of a high-end department store in Makati and quickly escalated into a national obsession.

The spark was a blind item published in The Manila Standard in 2004. The report alleged that a well-known TV personality had been caught stealing from a department store. According to the story, the personality’s husband rushed to the scene, paid double the value of the items, and pleaded for the management to keep the incident quiet. The narrative grew even darker, claiming the husband eventually hired a secret security guard to monitor his wife’s every move, leading to a confrontation that landed her in psychotherapy at St. Luke’s Medical Center. While no names were initially mentioned, the “Marites” of the era—fueled by early SMS chains and web forums—immediately pinned the story on Lucy Torres.

The scandal reached a fever pitch when the media giants of the era, specifically ABS-CBN, began to treat the rumor as a legitimate investigative piece. Programs aired reenactments of the alleged theft, and the names of prominent broadcast journalists like Ces Drilon and Karen Davila were dragged into the fray.

It was rumored that Davila possessed “surveillance tapes” of the arrest at Rustan’s Department Store in Makati, while Drilon was reportedly conducting her own private inquiry. In a pre-social media world, these reports were gospel to a public that had no way to verify information for themselves.

However, the story began to take a different turn when Richard Gomez, known for his protective and often fiery temperament, decided to take the fight directly to the source. Rather than staying silent, Richard and Lucy began a systematic confrontation of the people fueling the fire.

Their manager at the time, the late Douglas Quijano, was adamant that the entire orde@l was a calculated political move. Richard was preparing for a Senate run, and what better way to sabotage a candidate than by destroying the image of his most beloved asset—his wife.

In a landmark interview with Yes! Magazine in 2005, Lucy finally broke her silence. Her approach was a masterclass in poise. She famously stated that she would “not dignify the rumor with an answer,” yet she and Richard were working tirelessly behind the scenes to uncover the origins of the lie.

Their investigation led them to the very journalists who were supposedly holding the evidence. When confronted, the narrative shifted. Karen Davila denied having any tapes, claiming she was also a victim of misinformation. Ces Drilon admitted to “confirming” the rumor with others but stopped short of claiming it was fact.

Even the editor-in-chief of The Manila Standard at the time, Julee Daza, could not or would not identify the source of the blind item. The “smoking g*n” surveillance footage never materialized, and despite Lucy’s public challenge for any witness to step forward, the silence was de@fening. Eventually, the management of Rustan’s issued a formal clarification: no such incident involving Lucy Torres had ever occurred in their stores.

The 2004 scandal serves as a fascinating case study of the “politics of destruction” in the Philippines. It highlights how traditional media—television, radio, and print—could once dictate “truth” without the checks and balances of modern digital footprints. Today, a person can easily debunk a lie with a livestream or a social media post, but in 2004, Lucy and Richard had to fight a ghost. The rumor was designed to exploit Lucy’s “angelic” persona by presenting its polar opposite—a hidden, compulsive criminality.

Looking back, the controversy failed in its ultimate goal. While it caused immense personal distress to the Gomez family, it did not break Lucy’s spirit or her career. If anything, her resilience during the 2004 storm paved the way for her political career.

She proved that she could handle the most vitriolic attacks with a level of composure that most veteran politicians lack. By the time she entered the halls of Congress in 2010, she had already survived the worst that the “showbiz-political” machinery could throw at her.

Today, as the Mayor of Ormoc City, Lucy Torres-Gomez is recognized for her hands-on leadership and her focus on community safety and social initiatives. The “kleptomania” issue is now nothing more than a footnote in a much larger story of a woman who transitioned from a TV personality to a respected public servant.

It serves as a reminder to the public that “traditional media” isn’t always right and that integrity often outlasts the loudest rumors. For the people of Ormoc, Lucy is not the victim of a 2004 blind item; she is the leader who stayed through the storm, proving that her “angelic” exterior was backed by a core of steel.

The story of Lucy Torres-Gomez is a testament to the fact that while rumors may fly, the truth eventually finds its way to the surface. It is a narrative that encourages us to look beyond the “sensational” and demand evidence before judging those in the public eye.

As she continues to lead her city into 2026, the scandals of the past have only served to refine her character and solidify her place as one of the most enduring figures in modern Philippine history.