Weaving a moment into a movement

By Giselle P. Kasilag

Philippine indigenous weaves are having a moment. But for a craft so ancient, this moment took a long time to arrive, and is not without its unusual set of challenges. Unlike other industries, weaving is deeply rooted in tradition. A major part of what makes it valuable is derived from the uniqueness of the culture that produces it. For weaving to flourish, the culture and its environment need to be protected, both of which we as a nation have had very little success with.

In 2009, the Philippines was set to host the 2^nd ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations) Traditional Textile Symposium — a meeting of the region’s textile councils — when Maribel Ongpin discovered that the country had no textile council to begin with. Together with Adelaida “Laida” Lim and other advocates, they formed HABI: The Philippine Textile Council — a non-governmental organization with the mission to “preserve, promote, and enhance Philippine textiles through education, communication, and research using public and private resources.”

“When we started, we realized that there wasn’t much interest in traditional textile,” admitted Ms. Lim who now serves as HABI’s President Emeritus. “In fact, it was a craft that was dying. So, we had to figure out ways of revitalizing the craft and also seeing to it that the tradition gets preserved because we strongly felt, and we learned from the other ASEAN countries, that textiles define our identity.”

“Dying” was the same adjective that Anya Lim used to describe the industry when she co-founded Anthill Fabric Gallery with her mother, Annie Tan Lim, back in 2010 in Cebu. In a way, the indigenous textile was a canary in the coalmine. You can measure the health of a culture by its weaving output or lack of. Fifteen years ago, the output was precariously low.

“When we started Anthill, I was coming from the observation from my field work that a lot of the weaving communities across the country only have elder women continuing the craft,” said the younger Ms. Lim.

She was 16 when her parents first brought her to Banaue which she described as her version of Disneyland. Before her was a thriving village filled with colorful characters from her mother’s bedtime stories come alive. She returned a few years later and was shocked to see a ghost town. No one was weaving textile or carving wood. The scene was repeated in other parts of the country. Only the elders were continuing their traditions. There were no young weavers.

“I witnessed firsthand the threat to the craft,” said Anthill’s Ms. Lim. “I grew up in a household where everything was made in the Philippines and I was thinking in my mind how sad it would be if, fast forward how many years, all these beautiful things that define our identity will just be in coffee table books or museums.”

SAVING THE CRAFT
Like Laida Lim and the members of the HABI Council, her initial goal was to find a way to save the craft. Anthill focused its attention on getting younger women to take up weaving, and the answer lay in ensuring that the livelihood was sustainable.

“The challenge is, how do we preserve culture? But the way to do it is to make sure there’s competent market demand so that young weavers will find sense in learning the craft instead of working in the city or abroad,” she said.

The first five years of Anthill was spent on community building and community development. Capacity building was key so they established the Community Enterprise Development Program. They offered skills training on product design and innovation, and business skills including how to do inventory, swatching (creating fabric swatches) and how to cost the items. The weavers were taught financial literacy, how to open a savings account, and were given incentives to encourage them to save in order to protect what they earned.

There was also a master-apprentice program to ensure that the craft was handed down to the next generation. The weavers receive 20% on top of their income on the condition that they teach a younger weaver.

Everything was geared towards securing the supply chain so that when the business grows, the back end is strong and capable of meeting the demands of the market.

Similarly, the HABI Council was also working with its partner weavers to arm them with skills and financial literacy to compete in the market. And when they were ready, they were invited to join the Likhang Habi Fair, one of the council’s most important and successful programs.

“The goal was to bring the small, grassroot weavers and artisans from far-flung areas to Manila so they can meet designers and customers,” explained Mia Villanueva, president of HABI. She also runs MCV Designs which produces bags and accessories using local weaves and natural materials. “That was one of the goals then: to bring the weavers to the market, and I think we achieved that.”

“We have coined the Likhang Habi Market Fair as a ‘market encounter,’” added HABI Secretary Rambie Katrina Lim who is also behind Rurungan Sa Tubod Foundation which focuses on pineapple fiber (piña) weaving in Palawan. “It is encouraging each weaving entrepreneur, weaver, or weaving community to be able to tell their own story.”

TO MARKET, TO MARKET
There were challenges from both ends. According to HABI’s Laida Lim, it took a lot of arm-twisting to convince the weavers to come to Manila to present their wares at the Likhang Habi Fair.

Traveling to the capital was expensive and they needed to prepare enough inventory to make the trip worthwhile. On the market side, the council had to make sure that the product designs were elevated in order to capture the imagination of buyers whose exposure to local weaves was limited to table runners and blankets. Nobody was going to buy a skirt that would make people mistake them for furniture.

By the second year, it was the vendors who were twisting the arm of the council to be included in the fair. In most cases, the encounters were fruitful and the weaving communities began to see the value of their craft and how to offer them to the public.

“It’s the makers who were actually selling the products,” explained HABI’s Rambie Lim. “Majority of the vendors of Habi have a direct connection to the makers and the textiles that they’re selling. So it lessens the issue of cultural appropriation and not knowing how to use a certain fabric which is the problem that designers have. So in our vendor selection, we make sure that they know the textiles that they are using and its purpose. I think that’s the most important thing when dealing with traditional textiles — the understanding of its meaning because all traditional textiles have meaning, have a purpose.”

SUPPORT FROM CELEBRITIES AND LAW
With all these concerted efforts, then came an explosion of Philippine weaves in the public eye. Designers were using it. Celebrities were advocating it. Retailers began incorporating it in their fashion lines.

“It’s worldwide,” believed HABI’s Ms. Villanueva. “Everybody is more interested in natural, handwoven, sustainable items. What pushed it was that the youth wanted to wear it. We would get young designers with the jean jacket mixing inabel (a cotton weave from the Ilocos region) or some other textile. Then it became hip. It didn’t look like something that’s just for a wedding or graduation. It became daywear. So for me, that was one thing that also helped it.”

Laws such as Republic Act 9242, authored by Senator Loren Legarda, prescribing the use of Philippine tropical fabrics for uniforms of public officials and employees also pushed the visibility of local weaves and normalized their use in daily wear. Furthermore, it aided the ailing industry by creating a secure demand for the textiles, ensuring that weavers’ outputs will always have a buyer.

From the initial 11 vendors, the Likhang Habi Fair now boasts of over 100 vendors with some occupying several booths because they have more products to sell. Aside from the fair, HABI also produced documentaries called Threaded Traditions to educate the public on the cultures that produce these beautiful weaves such as Textiles of Panay Island, Ikat of the Cordillera, and Inabal of the Bagobo-Tagabawa. They have also organized competitions such as the Lourdes Montinola Piña Weaving Competition and the Eloisa Hizon Gomez Abaca Weaving Competition to encourage innovation, especially among the younger generation.

PROBLEMATIC ISSUES
This moment that has now become a movement, brought to light a number of issues plaguing the industry. Foremost is the exploitation of indigenous communities who are not given fair pay for the unique, handmade materials that they produce. This is why Anthill’s Anya Lim is adamant about transparency.

“That’s the challenge we always pose with other brands,” she said. “There are so many brands that are using indigenous fabrics but what is important is that they be as transparent. When people say, ‘Bakit ang mahal ng weaves? (Why are weaves so expensive?)’ we are transparent about how we break down our cost structure, what goes to our artisans, and how much we reinvest back into the programs. We are hoping that all brands that use indigenous weaves ensure that the artisans that they get the fabrics from are also fairly remunerated.”

There is also the multi-sectoral aspect of weaving which encompasses culture, art, environment, agriculture, trade, finance, and foreign relations among others. All of these create a complex structure that affects the production of the fabric. For instance, HABI’s Laida Lim pointed out a problem with cotton which, at some point, hampered their development.

“There was a time when polyester was introduced and cotton disappeared,” she explained. “That was one of our struggles — to try to make cotton yarns available to the weavers. The use of polyester changes the texture. We try to work with government agencies, Philippine Textile and Research Institute and the Philippines Fiber Industry Development Authority to revitalize the cotton industry because that is what is needed.”

HABI’s Rambie Lim explained that the cotton being spun in the Philippines is not tight. It is the loose twist variety because of the mills that are being used. Weavers find it challenging to use because they have to be more gentle in handling it because it may be prone to breaking.

There is also a knowledge loss in terms of fiber production and natural dyeing techniques because the traditions are passed on orally. During the period when there was a dearth of young weavers, many elders passed on without being able to hand down the information.

SEATS AT THE TABLE
All the women agree, though, that the government has given them ample seats at the table where decisions are being made. They have found themselves being consulted often in matters that aid in crafting policy. But the process can be slow and daunting sometimes.

When Baguio City recently passed an ordinance banning machine-made replicas of traditional Cordillera weaves, Anthill’s Anya Lim recalled countless meetings with local government officials and members of congress to push for the much-needed protection. Indeed, it takes hard work, patience, a lot of data, and someone — often several someones from multiple generations — with the drive to see the process through to have policies become lasting safeguards for the industry.

Given a magic wand, Ms. Lim has a substantial wish list that she would love for the government to help with.

“Number one would be a social procurement bill. This is something that Senator Bam Aquino worked on before. They have this in Australia where public and private institutions are required to honor their procurement contracts to social enterprises. That would be a game changer for the weaving communities in terms of building capacity and being able to price the weaves right. It will really elevate the weaving craft into an industry.

“Number two is, it is worth investing on what is endemic in the Philippines. Like abaca — there is so much potential in the natural fiber. We export to Taiwan who process it and sell it to other countries so it’s sad that we’re not really benefiting from it.

“Number three, investment in circular textile innovations because there is so much textile waste. It is the second largest pollutant in the world.”

HABI’s Laida Lim, however, is very hopeful. During the COVID-19 pandemic, she said, a weaving community in the south saw the addition of men into the fold. Weaving is traditionally the domain of women but because the men were unable to leave their homes, they took up the craft to help augment their income. Long after the lockdowns were lifted, some have continued to weave which is helpful in bringing about a new generation of much-needed weavers, though it is also causing a new set of issues within the community where male weavers used to be non-existent. But that is a problem for another day.

“If you will ask at what stage we are at our journey as HABI, we’re slightly shifting a little bit to a more educational thrust,” said Ms. Villanueva. “That is more our objective now. Of course, we still have the fair. That is our biggest project and it is our main fundraiser for our projects. We are now moving to a space where we are figuring out what more we can contribute and how can we redefine our contribution and we think of it in terms of this: educational thrust. We have books, films, documentaries, and we want to work with schools.”

Weaving is truly having a moment which makes this period critical in ensuring its continued success through the concerted efforts of the private and public sector. With our identity at stake, it is certainly an industry that can shine a light on a Philippines that is nurturing of its culture and responsible for its environment. It is a moment to strengthen the ties that bind and sustain a movement for the future.