KASAMA Vol. 19 No. 1 / January-February-March 2005 / Solidarity Philippines Australia Network
Women, Citizenship and the Politics of Dress in Twentieth-Century Philippines

HISTORICALLY the politics of dress as expressed in terms of a Filipino dress
/Western dress binary had gendered implications. Women as 'bearers of
tradition' wore national dress [*see postscript below] while men wore the
western suit and jacket, reflecting the gendered power relationship in the
society: Because of the stark visual contrast between these two types of
dress, these visual markers became politically potent. Women in the
Philippines, from suffragists to powerful women, have used clothing and gender
stereotypes associated with particular forms of dress as part of political
strategy and empowerment.
Politicians of all ilk and of both sexes have manipulated dress precisely
because it is a very visible public marker of one's allegiance, identity and
political colour. And yet, the study of the politics of dress has not yet been
given much attention in the production of knowledge on politics in the
Philippines. Instead, dress studies have focused on the history of Philippine
costume, the ethnography of dress, or the history of clothing materials. This
article is a step towards a history of appearances in twentieth-century
Philippines, focusing on the politics of dress and its gendered implications.
It explores how women have capitalized on the semiotics of dress as part of
political strategy and empowerment. When national dress was 'invented' in
Asia, women were represented as 'bearers of tradition' associated with the
emerging nations' past. But they were very astute readers of the semiotics of
dress and used clothing as a strategy for pursuing quite radical agendas.
In the American colonial era (1902-1946), Filipino men (but not women until
1937) were permitted to vote and run for office at the local and national
levels as part of America's policy of democratic tutelage in which the
Philippines was to be gradually 'given' the institutions of democracy (free
press, elections, etc) in preparation for self-government. The gender inequity
in citizenship was reflected in attire. Men wore the western suit and jacket
(the Americana) while women wore national dress in terms of a terno (national
dress with butterfly sleeves) and a pañuelo (Filipino national dress). This
sartorial binary with men in Western dress and women in native dress mirrored
in vestimentary code the political power axis: Western dress reflected the
powerful colonizers, and Filipino men by donning Western attire were
associating themselves with the powerful colonizers: while native dress was
worn by women, who as disenfranchised citizens, epitomized the colonized
subject - the bearer and wearer of tradition. Although, in actual fact, women
were already entering universities, business and the professions, and
therefore were behaving distinctly 'modern', men still imagined these women as
'traditional'.
'Repackaging' the Modern Woman
But the fact that the suffragists chose to wear the terno and pañuelo did not
imply that these women were accepting unproblematically, the role assigned to
them by their menfolk. Filipino suffragists campaigned for the use of Western
dress as uniforms in classrooms at schools and universities and in the
workforce because they argued that it was more practical attire. They claimed
that wearing the voluminous butterfly sleeves could prove dangerous in a
chemistry laboratory with Bunsen burners as they could easily catch fire. Yet,
they themselves wore the terno and pañuelo to work and for all official
duties. The terno and pañuelo were so associated with the suffragists that one
scholar has labeled them 'pañuelo activists' and caricatures of them always
depicted them in this attire. These women were actually proposing radical
changes to the Spanish Civil Code as well as campaigning for the vote at a
time when the majority of men were against woman suffrage. Lobbying for
women's equality seemed less 'modern' if the lobbyist was dressed in a terno
and a pañuelo. In reality, the Filipina had come a long way. But in literally
'repackaging' the modern Filipina in the 'traditional' women's narrative, the
suffragists were able to win a campaign for the vote despite overwhelming
odds.
The Moral Power of Nuns

During the Marcos dictatorship (1972-1986), militant nuns also used the
semiotics of dress and tapped cultural constructions of the feminine as 'moral
guardian' to resist authoritarian rule. Nuns were aware of their 'moral power'
and of the symbolic capital exuded by the nun's habit. Vatican II recommended
that nuns shed their habits and veils so that they could mingle with the
ordinary people and avoid privileged treatment. Just at the very time nuns in
the US were discarding their habits, Filipino nuns discovered that the habit
was an instrument of 'moral power' in the Philippine context. Since
Catholicism was a source of legitimacy, one way to advertise their moral power
was to wear the habit. Nuns usually stood in the front lines of strikes based
on the premise that the military would hesitate to 'beat up' a nun, and nuns
smuggled documentation on political prisoners inside their habits. In the
People Power 1 'revolution' that toppled the Marcos regime, nuns armed with
rosaries faced the macho military armed with machine guns, and triumphed.
The suffragists and the nuns were disenfranchised - partial citizens in the
body politic. In the early twentieth century, women could not vote. In the
Marcos years, elections were meaningless due to vote 'rigging'. Dress was used
by the marginalised as a strategy in the bid to claim citizenship rights.
The Iron Butterfly
At the other end of the spectrum, First Lady Imelda Marcos (the wife of
President Ferdinand Marcos, the other half of the conjugal dictatorship),
manipulated clothing (specifically 'national dress') in her attempt to equate
herself with the body politic. The most powerful woman in the Philippines in
the 1970s, she popularised the terno (though a modern terno without the
pañuelo) and was seldom seen in any other attire in public. This was part of
the First Family's agenda of fashioning themselves as the legendary characters
of Philippine folklore and as nationalist subjects. But this
self-representation was not endorsed by local audiences. Instead the terno
became metonymy for Imelda rather than metaphor for nation. In political
cartoons depicting her before and after the end of martial law, the terno was
the signifier for the former First Lady who was given epithets such as 'the
Iron Butterfly' in reference to the terno's butterfly sleeves.
Gendered Strategies for Negotiating Power
The struggle for full citizenship was expressed in sartorial code as clothing
was used as a strategy by the disenfranchised to negotiate for space in the
body politic and by a powerful woman who claimed to represent the 'nation'.
The politics of dress expressed in terms of a Filipino dress/Western dress
binary had gendered implications and complex gendered strategies for
negotiating power. Since national dress is also constantly being reinvented,
politicians, both male and female, have sought to reinterpret national dress
based on their agendas. Precisely because dress expresses a multitude of
codes, the battle over 'national dress' becomes more than a struggle to alter
appearances.
References
Alzona, Encarnacion (1954). The Filipino Woman: Her Social, Economic and
Political Status, 1565-1937. Manila: Benipayo Press.
Gwekoh, Sol H. (1952). Josefa Llanes Escoda: A Life Dedicated to Humanitarian
Service. Manila: Fortune Publishers.
Rafael, Vicente (2000). 'Patronage Pornography and Youth Ideology and
Spectatorship During the Early Marcos Years', White Love and Other Events in
Filipino History. Durham NC: Duke University Press.
Roces, Alfredo, and Irene Roces (1992) Medals and Shoes: Political Cartoons of
the Times of Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos, 1965 - 1992. Metro-Manila: Anvil
Publishing Co.
Tirona, Mary Grace Ampil (1996). 'Panuelo Activism', Women's Role in
Philippine History: Selected Essays. Quezon City: University Center for
Women's Studies, University of the Philippines.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
MINA ROCES is a Phd graduate from the University of
Michigan. She teaches at the University of New South Wales, School of History
in Sydney. Born in the Philippines, Mina completed high school in Manila, then
migrated to Australia with her family because of martial law. Her books
include
Women, Power and Kinship Politics: Female Power in Post-War
Philippines (Westport Connecticut: Praeger, 1998, Metro-Manila: Anvil
Publishing, 2000), and
Kinship Politics in Post-War Philippines: The Lopez
Family, 1946-2000 (Manila: De La Salle University Press, 2001). In addition,
she has co-edited three anthologies. Her research interests include gender and
power in 20th century Philippines, a current big research project on second
wave feminisms, spectacles and dress, the politics of dress in the
Philippines, and Filipino migrants in Australia and transnational feminisms.
'Women, Citizenship and the Politics of Dress in Twentieth-Century
Philippines' was first published in NIASnytt-Asia Insights, No. 1, 2004,
Nordic Institute of Asian Studies, Copenhagen. It is reprinted here with the
permission of the publishers and the author. The whole text of the journal can
be downloaded at
http://eurasia.nias.ku.dk/nytt/2004_1/2004_11.pdf
The cartoon of Encarnacion Alzona is printed here with permission from the
Ateneo Library of Women's Writings (ALIWW), 3rd Floor Rizal Library Annex,
Ateneo de Manila University, Loyola Heights, Quezon City, Philippines.
TelFax: (632) 426-6001 local 5811
Email:
aliww@admu.edu.ph
Visit the ALIWW web site at
http://rizal.lib.admu.edu.ph/aliww/
"Kasama" is indebted to Mina Roces for assisting us to obtain permission to
reprint her article and her further comments on the subject.
* POSTSCRIPT FROM MINA ROCES:
The use of the term "national dress" in this
article refers to the terno, the native garment most popularly used by women
politicians and most recognized internationally as 'Filipino dress'. This does
not mean however that no other type of 'Filipino dress' was used politically.
On the contrary some female politicians experimented with Muslim dress, and
ethnic dress (like that of the highlands) and the kimona, balintawak and
patadyong. Scholars in dress history have made a connection between the baro't
saya of the 16th century and the evolution of the terno of the 20th century.
Women's attire in the middle of the 16th century was described by Spaniards as
consisting mainly of the sarong and a small collarless jacket, shirt or
doublet of the same material. In the 18th century the baro't saya or the
Hispanized clothing became the dominant form of dress. The tapis was a garment
worn at the waist covering the skirt which was often made of very fine
material. Hence, the tapis was worn over it to conform to rules of modesty.
The development of the pañuelo followed a similar logic. Since the baro was
also made of fine material, a piece of cloth of the same fabric as the saya
was worn over the baro to cover the breasts. This piece of cloth (which
doubled as a veil) later evolved into the pañuelo. According to historians,
the use of the pañuelo was an imposition of the Spanish missionaries on the
'Indian' women who resisted undergarments.
In the American colonial era (1902-1946), sleeves evolved from the bell-shape to the butterfly sleeves
design associated with the terno today. The tapis began to disappear and the
sleeves began to get shorter. When the blouse was joined to a skirt of the
same material, the modern terno was born influenced by American evening gowns.
In the post-war years a terno with detachable sleeves was all the go (remove
the butterfly sleeves and the terno was instantly transformed). Today, the
modern terno, is pañuelo-less, with smaller butterfly sleeves.
References
J. Moreno, Philippine Costume. Manila: J. Moreno Foundation, 1995.
Salvador Bernal & Georgina R. Encanto, Patterns for the Filipino Dress From
the Traje de Mestiza to the Terno (1890s-1960s). Manila: Cultural Center of
the Philippines, 1992.
'The Ins and Outs of the Terno', in Alfredo Roces (ed.), Filipino Heritage,
Vol 10. Manila: Lahing Pilipino, 1978, p. 2541, and The Terno, Vol II, April
1947, p. 40.