Only Rolex, Porsche, and Maserati will win my heart
En el umbral de un nuevo aniversario televisivo, el conductor Andrés Hurtado convirtió la gratitud en espectáculo, rechazando flores y exigiendo Rolex y Maseratis con la misma naturalidad con que otros piden aplausos. El gesto, mitad broma y mitad retrato fiel, revela cómo ciertos personajes públicos han hecho de la exageración un lenguaje propio, uno que sus audiencias no solo toleran sino que celebran. Después de siete años en pantalla, Chibolín no anuncia un cumpleaños: reafirma una identidad.
- Hurtado lanzó una advertencia pública a sus seguidores: quien se presente con flores al aniversario de su programa llegará con las manos vacías, en términos de su afecto.
- La lista de regalos aceptables —joyas de Casa Banchero, zapatos Aldo, relojes Rolex, un Porsche o, en el mejor de los casos, un Maserati— generó una mezcla inmediata de incredulidad y carcajadas en redes sociales.
- Sus propias hijas, Jossety y Genesis, respondieron con un escueto 'Anotado', desactivando la tensión con humor y convirtiéndose en cómplices del performance.
- Lo que comenzó como un anuncio de aniversario terminó siendo un recordatorio de que la marca Chibolín sigue intacta: escandalosa, calculada y completamente fiel a sí misma.
Andrés Hurtado, conocido en la televisión peruana como Chibolín, celebró el aniversario de su programa sabatino 'Porque hoy es sábado con Andrés' —que debutó el 13 de septiembre de 2014— con un comunicado que mezclaba advertencia y deseo con partes iguales. Su mensaje fue claro: nada de flores. En su lugar, ofreció una lista detallada de lo que sí sería bienvenido: artículos de la joyería Casa Banchero, calzado Aldo, relojes Rolex, vehículos Porsche y, para quien quisiera ganarse su verdadero afecto, un Maserati. Todo ello, especificó, debía llegar a su domicilio un día antes de la celebración.
El tono del anuncio era inconfundiblemente suyo: el de alguien que ha construido una carrera sobre la excentricidad y la franqueza sin filtros. Sus seguidores reconocieron el juego de inmediato —una exageración envuelta en forma de exigencia real— y respondieron con la complicidad que solo se le otorga a quien lleva años perfeccionando ese registro.
La reacción más comentada vino de sus propias hijas, Jossety y Genesis, quienes contestaron con un simple 'Anotado'. Esa brevedad lo dijo todo: reconocían el absurdo, pero seguían la corriente. En redes sociales, la imagen de alguien rechazando públicamente flores en favor de autos deportivos y relojes suizos encontró el eco exacto entre risas y admiración.
Más que una petición de regalos, el episodio funcionó como una declaración de principios. Después de siete años en pantalla, Hurtado demostró que su personaje no ha cedido un centímetro: sigue siendo el mismo conductor que trata su fama como licencia para decir lo que piensa, pedir lo que quiere y hacer del exceso una forma de entretenimiento.
Andrés Hurtado, the television personality known by his stage name Chibolín, marked the anniversary of his long-running Saturday program with an announcement that was equal parts jest and specificity. The show, "Porque hoy es sábado con Andrés," debuted on September 13, 2014, and this year's milestone fell on a Saturday in early September. Rather than accept the conventional tokens of appreciation, Hurtado issued a formal warning to his followers: flowers would not be welcome.
Instead, he laid out a precise list of acceptable gifts, each one a statement of luxury. He would accept items from Casa Banchero, the high-end Peruvian jeweler. Aldo shoes were on the list. But the real specificity came with the watches and cars: Rolex timepieces, Porsche vehicles, and if his admirers truly wanted to win his affection, a Maserati would do the job. All gifts, he stipulated, should arrive at his home a full day before the celebration.
The announcement carried the unmistakable tone of someone accustomed to being heard and indulged. Hurtado has built a career on eccentricity and outsized personality—the kind of television presence that thrives on saying what others might only think. His followers understood the performance for what it was: a playful exaggeration wrapped in real expectation, a joke that was also not entirely a joke.
The response came swiftly. His own daughters, Jossety and Genesis Hurtado, replied to the announcement with a single phrase: "Noted." It was the perfect response—acknowledging the absurdity while playing along. Across social media, his followers found humor in the brazen specificity of the request. The idea of someone publicly rejecting flowers in favor of sports cars and Swiss watches struck the right note of ridiculous confidence.
What emerged from the announcement was less a genuine demand and more a window into Hurtado's public persona. He has spent years on television building an image of someone who says what he wants, who doesn't apologize for his appetites, who treats his celebrity as permission to be outrageous. The anniversary gift list was simply the latest iteration of that brand—a reminder that after seven years on the air, he remained exactly who his audience had come to expect.
Notable Quotes
This year flowers will not be accepted for the show's anniversary— Andrés Hurtado
Only gifts from Casa Banchero, Aldo, Rolex, Porsche, and Maserati will win my heart— Andrés Hurtado
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would someone publicly reject flowers for their show's anniversary?
Because Hurtado has built his entire television presence on being unapologetically extravagant. The flowers aren't really the point—it's the statement that he's someone who asks for what he wants.
But did he actually expect people to show up with Porsches?
Probably not in earnest. It's performance. He's testing how far his audience will let him go, and they seem to enjoy the audacity of it.
His daughters just said "Noted." That's a very specific kind of response.
It's the response of people who know him well enough to understand he's joking, but also know he's not entirely joking. They're playing along while acknowledging the absurdity.
Does this kind of thing actually work for him on television?
It does, because it's consistent. He's been doing this for seven years. His audience knows what they're getting—someone who will say the outrageous thing, who won't pretend to be humble.
What does it say about Peruvian television that this is the kind of personality that thrives?
That there's an appetite for someone unfiltered, someone who treats celebrity as permission to be exactly who they are without apology.