By Faith Therese T. Igaya 

“Kung wala kang hilig sa pananahi, tiyaga ang kailangan mo.” — Ate Lanie

Endless racks filled with fabrics in every color and pattern, threads and needles tightly packed with other materials, the sole light source that whirrs with ambient music, finished garments awaiting their rightful owners, and a scattered but soulful sewing station livened up by the hands that create. This is the signature look of a local seamstress’ shop in the Philippines—the fading gem of the fashion world. The kind that sews from and for the heart, where every object is an element of a story yet to be unravelled.

From Looms to Laces: The History of Fabric Manipulation in the Philippines

Before local seamstress shops became some of the most accessible fashion sources in the Philippines, the origins of fabric manipulation trace back to the 13th century indigenous weaving. It captures several values that are vital and definitive of the Filipino identity, even in the modern age—spirituality, tradition, and socialization. The final fabrics feature colorful and symbolic patterns representative of the wearer’s personal, social, or even tribal identity. 

The actual process involves handlooms, which are manually operated textile machines used by skilled and coordinated weavers. Handlooms represent the country’s traditional fashion roots, especially in their use of traditional fabrics made of abaca, fibres, local cottons, and pineapples. Handloom weaving, as a direct example tied to spirituality, is also believed to call on spirits who offer health and protection to earth’s dwellers. 

Although changing times continue to bring inevitable challenges to preserving traditional culture, weaving remains rampant in places and localities defined by Indigenous culture. Some fabrics serve as souvenir staples for tourists in popular places like Baguio City, both available for rent and purchase. Another relevant example is the Sablay graduation sash popularized by the University of the Philippines, which is also sourced from traditional weavers in the same region.

A few centuries past the peak of weaving culture, the art of sewing took the fashion scene by storm. Brought by the industrialization period, manual and eventually electric sewing machines became the staple for fabric manipulation. With only a few machine adjustments and a seasoned tailor’s muscle memory, strings and loose fabrics become wearable garments in no time. Tailors, seamstresses, or whatever fashion-related term there is—they became the sewing masters behind the seams.

The Philippines wholeheartedly embraced this invention, empowering tailoring pioneers to become established brands and inspirations in the industry. Paras Alter Station, a popular tailoring brand in the country, became known for offering accessible alterations, repairs, and made-to-order services. The brand’s popularity not only afforded stalls in popular malls and establishments, but it also granted opportunities for its smaller sub-brands like PaRush Alteration and Bespoke to thrive in similar places. 

Tailoring has always been a vital service for people, even with the existence of key competitors like the fast fashion industry. Still, the latter has become an incomparable fashion giant as the times shifted towards modernity. When the COVID-19 pandemic struck the world, lasting until the post-pandemic setting, e-commerce heavily defined the fashion scene, with instant labor and gratification as the driving forces. 

In the Southeast Asian context, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic, e-commerce giants like Shopee and Lazada dominated the fashion scene with their Ready-to-Wear (RTW) clothing made of cheap materials and fast but low-salaried labor. For small businesses and casual sellers on the same platforms, a smaller audience and additional taxes upon checkout never hindered their chances of selling despite the distance. They were able to make adjustments to the now-online world, but tailors bound to their physical shops were left behind due to restrictions.

Local Seamstresses: The Unspoken Heroes of Every Local Community

In a sea of uncertainty in the fashion landscape, especially for tailors, there lie the smaller and unspoken figures of the industry who fought for their rightful place: local seamstresses. Locally known as “mga mananahi,” they are the tailors who dwell in smaller, local places like public markets, villages, and even houses that double as boutiques. They are the unspoken heroes of every local community, offering every fashion service right within arm’s reach. 

Working in silence and quiet quarters with little to no signage, local seamstresses are the hidden gems of their communities. Discovering them not only entails the close communication of one’s tailoring needs, for it also includes warm interactions that beget friendship and fondness. Like next-door neighbors, local seamstresses become vital to community life.  

Despite their pure essence and service, there is still little room for them in the current fashion scene, which is defined by constant production and immediate gratification. Their slower completion window due to limited manpower and equipment greatly affects their ability to grasp the right opportunities. Although alive and fighting, the art of local sewing remains in need of support and preservation, ultimately emphasized by the reality of one local seamstress.

Maria Melanie Lozano, locally known as Ate Lanie by her beloved customers, is a local seamstress in the heart of Laguna’s science municipality—Los Bañnos, Laguna. In the middle of Barangay Batong Malake’s F.O. Santos Street, her small tailoring shop stands as a hidden gem with a dark facade adorned with blue curtains. Ate Lanie does not have a name or sign for her shop, but what she has is a heart that unendingly gives back to the Elbi community.

Born into a family of tailors from Albay, Bicol, Ate Lanie has been in the tailoring industry since the 1990s. She explained, “Yung father ko ay kumuha ng pananahi dito sa LB—yung Threads dati, siya yung cutter dun. Nangailangan din ng secretary, kaya kinuha rin yung kapatid ko na graduate sa UP. Ako, kinuha rin ng kapatid ko kasi marunong din akong manahi,” Indeed, Ate Lanie became a seasoned tailor that knows no bounds when it comes to fashion. 

Ate Lanie’s passion started with a dream to become a designer with drawing as her outlet. Treating fashion as her calling, she geared her life towards it by crafting designs that echo her true passion. Although she faced unwanted circumstances that made her choose the practicality of sewing over the passion of designing, she never lost sight of her dreams—she just redirected them. “Siguro sumabay na rin ito sa hilig ko kasi ang pananahi ay passion din, nasa hilig din,” said Ate Lanie.

Behind the Seams: Featuring the Hands that Craft

Threading through the thinnest needles of the fashion industry entails several challenges for seamstresses like Ate Lanie; for her, their time and financial resources are some of the biggest. “Kalaban namin ay sarili naming time. Minsan ay hindi agad nakukuha ang pinapagawang damit sa dami, lalo ako’y mag-isa at wala nang tumutulong sa’kin,” said Ate Lanie. Intertwined with time, their financial incapacity to hire assistants amplifies the lack of manpower and faster completion windows. 

Ate Lanie’s personal financial concerns also encompass the increasing rent prices in Los Baños. In every personal chance to avail her tailoring services, she expresses a resounding worry for the future of her sewing shop, as well as the ones ran by her fellow seamstresses. “Baka kailanganin kong humanap at lumipat sa ibang lugar na mas mura. Masyado na kasing nagmamahal dito, baka hindi ko kayanin,” said Ate Lanie. 

In uncovering other problems of the local tailoring industry, Ate Lanie’s answers trace back to excessive versatility and independence. “Sa pabrika, kung ikaw collar, collar lang; ang bayad dun ay hindi ganoon kalaki. ‘Yun ang aming kalaban, pero nasa amin naman kung paano namin pupunan yung mga bagay na kawalan sa’min. Ang kalaban namin ay sarili namin,” added Ate Lanie. Easier said than done, local seamstresses become one-man teams who miss occasional opportunities because of occupied hands.

As local seamstresses attempt to compete and coexist with domineering fashion figures, their resounding need for support continues to echo. In a fast-paced society where time and money are everything, the former demographic is at a great loss due to limited manpower. The lack of traction and visibility also contributes to the dying aspect of their craft, but they are determined to stay alive and thriving, especially Ate Lanie.

Behind the curtains for independent seamstresses like Ate Lanie, time is an unforgiving thing that makes everything fleeting, including hopes for betterment. With sewing as the family legacy she wishes to continue, she is plagued by the uncertainties that come with doing things alone. “Dahil wala na rin yung iba kong mga kasama, meron pa rin sa isip ko yung kalungkutan. Nagawa ka, itutulog mo na lang yung gawa mo, tapos tuloy pa rin. Iniisip ko na lang na marami akong bayarin — wala namang ibang tutulong sa’kin kung hindi ang sarili ko,” said Ate Lanie. 

When asked why she chooses to continue such an uncertain path, Ate Lanie always returns to the matter of passion and service. She acknowledges that sewing was initially a pastime activity done in place of her supposed priorities, but she learned to hone it as her lifelong passion. It helped Ate Lanie grow into this warm and kind seamstress who is always welcoming to the sewing needs of her beloved community. In highlighting her story as a resounding reflection of her kin, she wishes for all local communities to learn more about their true hopes and humanity.

Bearing the brightest smile, Ate Lanie hopes for a more successful life where she has her place as a seamstress—the kind that she does not have to rent or leave when it is due. She honors her family in every seam and fabric, forever hoping that her legacy as a seamstress will inspire the next generations and more. Ate Lanie is a simple woman with dreams as big as her heart, making her a true hero of the Elbi community and the world.

A Fashionable Future Facilitative of the Slowly Forgotten

The lack of support for independent fashion figures like local seamstresses is an issue in the real, individualistic world. The unending clamor for individualistic success is subduing every community’s sense of support, especially affecting smaller figures who thrive from it. Hence, this dilemma calls for more community initiatives that will not only bring people together but also shed light on the sentiments of the unasked and unheard.

Much like the warm and welcoming Ate Lanie, these small community figures do not demand a lot, or any at all. Their service has always been powered by the support of their communities, emphasizing the visibility needed to keep their doors open. To be discovered and supported by the communities they serve is to never be forgotten by the world, even in its continuous pursuit of modernization.

The Elbi community’s awareness of local seamstresses like Ate Lanie is still a project in the making. Aside from the treasure-like state of her signless sewing shop, the entrance is often kept small due to extreme heat, often leaving visibility measures to the verbal advice of locals. As every discovery fuels the pile of orders, all hope is not lost; above all else, Ate Lanie is happy to gain the trust of the community she serves.

Ate Lanie has a simple message to herself, her kin, and her community. Happily, she said, “Kung gusto niyo magpatahi, magpatahi. Pasensya kung hindi nila nakukuha sa oras, pero gagawan ko naman ng paraan para makuha nang maayos yung gawa nila.” No matter how the times change, no matter if their customer pool consists of zero or a hundred, local seamstresses like Ate Lanie will always carry the love for their craft. The kind that is not only enough to transcend fashion borders and hurdles, but the kind that leaves a lasting impact on a forgetful world. 

The eternal beauty of local seamstresses—forever weaving love and service in every garment.