by Sara Reed
These garments, known in the Philippines as a camisa (blouse) and pañuelo (handkerchief), belong to a Philippine tradition spanning nearly 400 years. The fine cloth and delicate embroidery embody a larger cultural phenomenon, telling the story of wealth, status, and even tourism in the twentieth century. The clean woven structure is characteristic of the unique fabric, which is made from pineapple fiber (piña), a type of cloth that originated in the Philippines.
When looking at these garments, it is easy to understand how this fabric, and this style of clothing, is the product of an enormous effort. The fine strands of fabric are carefully woven together, then decorated with beautiful embroidered details. The entire process, from creating the strands that comprise the fabric to the embroidering, must be done by hand. Creating piña is laborious and time-intensive, meaning that it has always been very expensive. For this reason, its history is interwoven with that of wealth and status in the Philippines.
Pineapple was first introduced to the Philippines by the Spanish in about 1565. Learning to make cloth from the pineapple fibers was not a difficult process. Fabric makers simply adapted their methods of creating abacá (banana) fiber, a tradition indigenous to the Philippines. Abacá fiber is stronger and more durable than piña, and it has a variety of uses including clothing, hats, bags, and paper products such as banknotes, teabags, and decorative paper.
The primary method of fiber extraction is described as scraping, though there are other methods. This process involves scraping off the pulp of a split pineapple leaf onto a porcelain plate. This exposes two types of fiber: a coarse fiber used for dolls and icons, and a fine fiber that would produce piña. After more scraping, the strands are separated with a fine-toothed comb, and the threads are then washed and dried. Following this, the threads are then joined together to create a continuous filament, which is so delicate that Jean Mallat, a French scientist visiting the Philippines, stated that those creating piña had to work under a mosquito net because the thread could break at the “mere movement caused in the air by a person walking” (quoted in Roces 2013: 343). This delicacy can still be seen and felt when handling the fabric; it is lightweight and tangibly fine, though the threat of breaking the fibers is certainly no longer so imminent.
As a result of its delicate nature and consequent price, piña became associated with the wealthy. The pieces were elaborately embroidered and one-of-a-kind, a staple of piña fashion. Families preserved their prized items, and brought them out for grand occasions wherein individuals would make a display of their expensive piña pieces.
Though many American Museums, including the University of Michigan, hold collections of piña cloth, documentary sources from Manila trade do not suggest piña as an important item of trade or a common export. It is not exactly known why this is the case, though it may simply be because piña fashion did not suit western taste. Museum documentation indicates that it was a common souvenir of American travelers (Welters 1997), who in the nineteenth century were acquiring pre-made pieces in Manila–likely the origin of these particular garments.
By the mid-1800s, piña began falling out of favor as “modern” Western fashion came into style, and by the early 1900s, the production of piña had dwindled into practically nothing. The practice was revived by Philippine designers in the 1980s as a symbol of national identity.
Piña is now primarily produced in Kalibo, Aklan. In November 2023, Aklan piña handloom weaving will be examined by the UNESCO committee for inclusion in the Lists of UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage. The application is currently accessible here.
This style of dress, including the camisa and pañuelo, is part of a style of garment called the Maria Clara Gown. It is a uniquely Philippine conglomeration of many different styles and influences and, for this reason, it became a persisting symbol of national identity. During the American Colonial period, Philippine women advocating for suffrage and equality took on the Maria Clara terno as a symbol of their cause. These women became known as “pañuelo activists,” who weaponized traditional dress (in favor of imported western fashion) to superimpose the idea of traditional Philippine womanhood upon the movement.
The Maria Clara Gown, historically known as the traje de mestiza, is a predecessor of the modern Philippine terno, and an aristocratic adaptation of the traditional baro’t saya. Terno, in the Philippines, refers to a women’s ensemble that comprises matching colors and patterns, a standard many examples of the Maria Clara Gown adhere to. The name Maria Clara originates from the protagonist of Jose Rizal’s 1887 novel Noli Me Tángere.
The Maria Clara gown consists of four parts, all traditionally made from piña: a baro or camisa (a blouse), a saya (a long skirt), a pañuelo, fichu, or alampay (a kerchief), and the tapis or patadyong (a short, rectangular cloth worn over the skirt).
When worn, the camisa and the pañuelo would be heavily starched, and elites would wear them with extravagant jewelry, such as diamonds and pearls, or with religious articles, such as rosaries. Originally, the purpose of the pañuelo was not as an accessory but for modesty; piña is a very transparent fabric, necessitating the pañuelo, which would be folded several times and worn over the shoulders.
Over time, the Maria Clara gown would slowly lose pieces and identifiable features as its style merged with the contemporaneous American evening gown. The modern terno first appeared when the blouse and skirt were merged into a single gown, and eventually the sleeves would shrink, the skirt would lose its fullness, and, in the 1950s, the pañuelo would be discarded. Echoes of the Maria Clara gown are still visible in the modern terno, and terno itself persists in modern Philippine fashion and culture.
The history of these pieces do not necessarily tell a story of the Philippines. They were purchased as souvenirs by American school teachers–Michigan Thomasites–presumably as they were passing through Manila before reaching their ultimate destination: Leyte. What is not known is the purpose of their creation–were they bridal, as the donor suggests? Were they made to be Philippine eveningwear? Or, perhaps, they were made specifically for American tourists, who, during this period, were visiting through the Philippines en masse?
Despite the unknown purpose of this specific camisa and pañuelo, a story of Philippine fashion, identity, and tradition can still be gleaned from examining the origins of this specific style and fabric–souvenirs are not created in a void. Piña and terno together paint a picture of femininity in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries–at least among the upper class of Manila. What is most notable is how these one hundred and twenty year old garments can still be seen in Philippine fashion today, in this renaissance of traditional methods and styles.
Bibliography
Coo, Stéphanie Marie R. Clothing and the colonial culture of appearances in nineteenth century Spanish Philippines (1820-1896). PhD diss., (Université Nice Sophia Antipolis, 2014).
Milgram, B. Lynne. “Piña Cloth, Identity and the Project of Philippine Nationalism.” Asian Studies Review 29, no. 29 (September 2005): 233-246. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/epdf/10.1080/10357820500270144?needAccess=true&role=button
Roces, Mina. “Dress, Status,and Identity in the Philippines: Pineapple Fiber Cloth and Ilustrado Fashion.” Fashion Theory 17, no. 3 (April 2013): 341-372. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/epdf/10.2752/175174113X13597248661828?needAccess=true&role=button
Roces, Mina and Louise Edwards. “Gender, Nation, and the Politics of Dress in Twentieth-Century Philippines.” In The Politics of Dress in Asia and the Americas, edited by Mina Roces and Louise Edwards, 19-41. Chicago: Independent Publishers Group, 2010
San Pablo Burns, Lucy Mae. “Your terno’s draggin’: Fashioning Filipino American Performance.” Women & Performance: a journal of feminist theory 21, no. 2 (December 2011): 199-217. https://doi.org/10.1080/0740770X.2011.607597
Welters, Linda. “Dress as Souvenir: Pina Cloth in the Nineteenth Century.” Dress: The Journal of the Costume Society of America 24, no. 1 (July 1997): 16-26. https://doi.org/10.1179/036121197805297991
