Appropriate Clothing

 

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Someone came for an interview dressed in loose, faded denim, a cropped blouse, and sneakers, with her phone tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. She had also taken the time to do her makeup and complete her look with false eyelashes. There was nothing inherently wrong with any of these choices, yet seeing her attire in the setting of a formal interview made me pause and think about how we negotiate personal expression with the expectations of a particular occasion.

I even asked the personnel staff to remind applicants about the expected dress code for an interview. This is not necessarily about wearing expensive clothes or appearing excessively formal. An interview is, after all, a professional encounter, and the way we present ourselves can communicate a certain degree of preparedness, respect, and awareness of the occasion. What we wear may not define our competence, but it can become part of the first impression we create.

As the internet ushered us into a world of diverse cultures, ideas, and influences, it also reshaped how we present ourselves, including the way we dress. There is nothing wrong with choosing comfort or expressing individuality through fashion. Clothing has become an important language of identity and self-expression. Yet self-expression also requires an awareness of context. There are occasions when dressing appropriately is not simply about following convention, but about showing respect for the setting, the people involved, and the purpose of the occasion. Knowing when to express ourselves freely and when to adjust to the demands of a particular situation is, therefore, part of social awareness and professional decorum.

Clothing is more than personal taste; it is also part of how we present ourselves and how others initially interpret us. While dress does not determine a person’s character or competence, research suggests that appearance can influence perceptions in professional settings (Leary & Jongman-Sereno, 2017; Karl et al., 2013). Dressing appropriately, therefore, need not mean suppressing individuality. It can simply mean recognizing that different spaces carry different expectations, and that self-expression can coexist with discernment.

There are also occasions when people overdress to the point that their clothing becomes more noticeable than the occasion itself. Psychology and consumer research suggest that conspicuous forms of dress can sometimes serve purposes beyond aesthetics, including signaling status, expressing uniqueness, seeking social approval, or reinforcing a desired identity (Kastanakis & Balabanis, 2022; Sivanathan & Pettit, 2010). This does not mean that extravagant clothing signals an attention deficit or a psychological problem. What we wear can simply be one of the ways we seek recognition, communicate identity, or construct the image we wish others to see.

Perhaps the wisdom of dressing lies not in knowing how to stand out, but in knowing when not to. Individuality has its place, but so does discernment. We are free to express ourselves through what we wear, yet maturity may also be found in recognizing when the occasion deserves to speak louder than we do. After all, the most thoughtful attire is not always the one that attracts the most attention, but the one that understands the moment.

Thirst Trap

 

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I heard someone mention that he has an acquaintance who is fond of doing thirst traps. It was the first time I had heard the term, so, being the curious soul that I am, I went online to investigate. And there it was: a thirst trap is essentially a photo, video, or social media post deliberately created to make someone appear especially attractive or sexually appealing, often to draw attention, compliments, or flirtatious reactions.

The modern internet usage of the term appears to have emerged around 2011, particularly on Twitter and Urban Dictionary, alongside the growing influence of social media and online dating platforms. An Urban Dictionary entry from that period already used the term in reference to deliberately creating “thirst,” or desire and attention, through one's online presentation.

True to its meaning, provocative poses and sexualized forms of self-presentation can now be readily found across social media, posted by both men and women. Some content appears to push the boundaries of what has traditionally been considered appropriate for public viewing, at times approaching material intended for mature audiences.

What makes this particularly noteworthy is that such content circulates within digital spaces also frequented by children and young people who have grown up immersed in online environments.

Research has documented that sexualized self-presentation is not merely an isolated online behavior but a recognizable form of social-media self-presentation among adolescents. A recent cross-national study involving adolescents from Belgium, France, and Slovenia found that nearly four in ten participants had recently posted sexualized visual content on social media, particularly through sexualized facial expressions, with girls displaying substantially higher levels of sexualization than boys (Konings et al., 2025).

These findings suggest that online self-presentation is shaped not only by individual choices but also by the social environment in which young people seek recognition and validation.

Young Filipinos may likewise participate in this trend because repeated exposure and peer validation can make provocative self-presentation appear increasingly normal, particularly when it seems that “almost everyone is doing it.” This reflects the broader influence of globalization, where digital platforms allow ideas, behaviors, and forms of self-expression to move rapidly across cultural boundaries.

At the same time, these developments invite reflection on traditionally emphasized Filipino values such as modesty, propriety, and respect for social norms. Participation in global digital culture need not mean abandoning cultural values. It should also be accompanied by the discernment to understand which values remain worth preserving and passing on to the next generation.

There seems to be a growing tension between emerging digital expressions of identity and some traditional ways of understanding what it means to be Filipino. The way young people dress, speak, interact, and present themselves is increasingly influenced by what they encounter online, while some traditions are readily dismissed as outdated or old-fashioned.

Cultural adaptation is inevitable in a rapidly changing society, but adaptation does not have to mean cultural erasure. We can embrace new influences and participate in a global digital culture while remaining grounded enough to recognize, preserve, and carry forward the values and traditions that help define who we are.

The thirst trap may therefore appear to be a simple expression of confidence, attraction, or self-presentation, but it also opens a deeper conversation about identity and values. In a digital environment where visibility can easily become a source of validation, the more important question is not simply whether we can attract attention, but whether the ways in which we seek that attention remain consistent with the values we choose to uphold.

In a world where everyone is competing to be seen, may we never become so visible to others that we become invisible to who we truly are.

Constructed Presence

 

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Erving Goffman’s idea that people manage the impressions they give to others has been extensively adapted to online environments. Research suggests that personality characteristics and interpersonal goals influence the ways people present themselves in digital spaces.

There is a growing body of scholarly work suggesting that social media profiles can function as spaces where individuals reaffirm their visibility and continued presence within their social networks. For some, posting online is a way of maintaining connection with people who know them, particularly when physical distance separates them from their place of origin, family, or familiar communities.

Such self-presentation may also be influenced by the need for recognition, belonging, or affirmation. Individuals who perceive themselves as overlooked, undervalued, or uncertain about their place within a community may turn to digital platforms for reassurance and validation.

Social media can also become a space where individuals selectively construct and communicate an image of accomplishment, stability, or success. At times, this may involve presenting an aspirational version of the self that one hopes others will recognize and accept.

We may also encounter rants, highly opinionated narratives, and increasingly confrontational exchanges in online spaces. For some individuals, repeated expressions of strong opinions may serve as a way of affirming their visibility, relevance, or significance within their social circles.

When such patterns remain unchecked, however, online self-expression can move into more problematic territory. Public arguments, hostile exchanges, and aggressive language may transform ordinary self-expression into a cycle of provocation and engagement.

Research suggests that social media can become a venue for self-presentation, validation, and the pursuit of positive social outcomes. A recent daily-diary study found that narcissistic traits were associated with differences in self-presentation, perceived social outcomes, and unmet expectations, particularly among individuals high in vulnerable narcissism (Șurariu et al., 2026). In this context, persistent confrontational posting may sometimes be understood as part of a broader pattern of seeking visibility, recognition, or interpersonal validation.

But ultimately, these are battles within the self. Individuals must learn to understand and confront the forces that shape their behavior rather than allow an unexamined self to become increasingly distorted by unmet needs or the constant pursuit of external validation.

Self-awareness becomes essential. Without it, what begins as an attempt to affirm one's worth may gradually reinforce the very insecurities one seeks to overcome.

Perhaps the greatest measure of our digital presence is not how loudly we convince the world that we matter, but how quietly secure we become when we no longer need the world to prove it.

Fashion Speaks

 

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There was a time when we could not go out in public for an event unless our clothes were properly ironed. It even seemed almost scandalous to attend Mass or any social gathering wearing slippers. I remember my aunt telling my cousin, a clothes designer, to sew her a dress because she was going to Manila and would be riding a plane.

Looking back, these may seem like simple things, but they reflected a time when dressing appropriately was part of showing respect for the occasion, for others, and for oneself.

Then the internet opened our windows to the world and exposed us to other cultures. Brazilians brought Havaianas to us, while clever marketing helped turn slippers into fashionable footwear, even pairing them with dresses. Sneakers, too, allowed us to reinvent corporate attire by bringing a casual touch to suits. Eventually, beach culture became embedded in our everyday lives, as we began going to parties in clothes once reserved for the beach, or even in what we used to sleep in.

There is nothing wrong with expressing ourselves through what we wear, but context matters. When we walk into an interview wearing jeans and a tank top, with a phone tucked into the back pocket and dirty Chucks on our feet, we may be communicating something far different from what we intend.

“Our clothes masquerade as our identity. It is how we signal who we are,” a thought frequently echoed in conversations about fashion and self-expression. What we wear can speak before we do, revealing something about our personality, values, profession, or the image we wish to project. Clothing, therefore, is more than fabric and fashion. It is a visual language through which we introduce ourselves to the world. Yet, like any language, it can also be misunderstood.

Still, we must be careful not to define people by the quality, cost, or appearance of their clothes. Wealth does not always announce itself through designer labels or elaborate attire. Some affluent people deliberately choose simple and understated clothing, while others simply prefer what is comfortable and practical. What a person wears may tell us something about their preferences, but it can never tell us the whole story of who they are.

The recent controversy involving Pampanga Governor Lilia Pineda and her son, Vice Governor Dennis Pineda, offers a telling example of how clothing can shape public perception. The two drew criticism after photos of them wearing luxury designer pieces circulated while they were inspecting flood-affected areas in the province. To some observers, the branded attire appeared disconnected from the hardship of families struggling with the flooding and was perceived as a display of privilege at a time when solidarity and sensitivity were expected. Governor Pineda later apologized for their choice of attire, calling the criticism a “wake-up call.” Malacañang likewise reminded public officials to be sensitive to the circumstances of people experiencing hardship.

In the end, clothes may tell a story, but they should never become the measure of a person’s worth. What matters is understanding that every setting carries a different expectation, and what we wear can either bridge the distance between us and others or quietly widen it. Fashion is personal, but context is social; and in moments when people are hurting, empathy should always be the best-dressed thing in the room.

The Person Inside You

 

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There is something deeply unsettling about cases in which violence becomes entangled with an inability to accept loneliness. Dennis Nilsen, the Scottish serial killer, murdered men and kept their bodies in his home. On more than one occasion, he washed a victim, placed him in his bed, and slept beside the corpse, seemingly recreating the companionship he could not sustain with the living.

Cases involving bodies preserved in freezers reveal similarly disturbing attempts to prevent separation, although their motivations varied and should not simply be interpreted as a desire for companionship. What makes these cases haunting is the thought that, in profoundly disturbed individuals, the fear of being alone can become so distorted that even death becomes preferable to absence.

The point is not that loneliness produces violence. It does not. Rather, these extreme cases compel us to confront a more ordinary question: **What happens when we become so uncomfortable with being alone that we constantly seek ways to escape it?**

Some people become uneasy when left by themselves. In that discomfort, they fill every silence with tasks, conversations, errands, or endless activity. They may appear remarkably productive, when beneath that composed exterior, a chaotic current of emotions is quietly moving.

Sometimes, busyness is not productivity at all. It is a way of avoiding the stillness in which loneliness, anxiety, or long-suppressed thoughts might finally become audible.

Research on experiential avoidance suggests that people sometimes engage in behaviors designed to escape, suppress, or distract themselves from uncomfortable thoughts and emotions (Hayes et al., 1996). What looks like constant activity may therefore be more than a busy lifestyle. It may be an attempt to outrun something within.

When people struggle to regulate their emotions and are reluctant to engage in honest self-assessment, they may suppress what they truly feel and redirect those emotions toward other people, activities, or distractions. This may provide temporary relief, but what remains unexamined does not necessarily disappear.

Instead, unresolved emotions may eventually surface as anxiety, irritability, strained relationships, or other forms of psychological distress. What begins as a coping mechanism can, when repeatedly relied upon, become a pattern that slowly undermines psychological well-being.

In its more severe forms, particularly when combined with profound psychological disturbance and other complex risk factors, such patterns may become part of a broader clinical picture. Yet this should never be used to equate ordinary loneliness or emotional struggle with dangerousness.

Perhaps that is why some people, despite having limited understanding of mental and psychological health, are quick to label those who behave differently as “insane.” It is easier to name what we do not understand than to pause and ask what might be happening beneath the behavior.

Perhaps the real challenge is not learning how to escape being alone, but learning how to remain with ourselves when there is nowhere else to hide. Self-awareness allows us to recognize what we feel; self-regulation teaches us not to be ruled by it. Solitude, then, need not be an empty space to fear, but a quiet opportunity to listen, confront what needs healing, and discover who we are when no one else is around.

If we cannot learn to be alone with ourselves, we may spend our lives running from the very silence that could have taught us who we are.

 

Now, Who's Uncouth?

 

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When one of my students uses cuss words, I do not simply let them pass. I reprimand them because words carry biblical, moral, and social implications. When disrespect happens, I raise my voice in protest because silence is not always civility. I also call the attention of girls who scream unnecessarily or dress inappropriately within the school campus, not to police their individuality, but to remind them that freedom must be accompanied by responsibility and that education must also cultivate decency.

I teach my learners to uphold dignity, embody respect, and practice decency.

When the Ateneo de Zamboanga school shooting made national headlines, Palace Press Officer Claire Castro drew criticism after remarks that included the statement that some teachers “teach their students how to be disrespectful, particularly toward elders or other people.” She later explained that her remarks were intended to emphasize the role of teachers in shaping character. Still, the statement prompted strong reactions from educators, particularly in the context of an already painful conversation about school safety.

“Walang modo.” In English, uncouth. The irony is worth reflecting upon. In our effort to teach young people how to behave with respect, we must also be mindful of how we speak about those entrusted with educating them.

Based on my experience in the classroom, there was never a time when I deliberately taught disrespect or ill manners to my learners. In fact, I have heard fellow teachers express their frustrations over learners who display poor manners and disrespect, experiences that can be emotionally and physically draining.

As a social researcher, I would find it difficult to formulate a sound hypothesis that teachers, as a group, teach ill manners to their learners. Such a premise appears too simplistic to explain a behavior shaped by many influences, including family, peers, community, culture, media, and the school environment. Any claim of causation, therefore, deserves evidence rather than assumption.

Claire Castro is a lawyer, and her public role also carries an expectation of careful reasoning and contextual sensitivity, particularly when statements are delivered from a government podium. In a subsequent press conference, she clarified that she was referring to particular teachers who, according to her explanation, were facing legal action or investigation in connection with social media posts involving the President.

That clarification provides important context. Yet it also leaves a broader question worth asking: when words are spoken publicly, especially during a sensitive national conversation, should intent alone determine how they are received? Public statements carry consequences beyond what the speaker may have intended.

The situation may be viewed through the lens of scapegoating, a process in which blame for broader social problems is displaced onto a particular individual or group. It would be premature to conclusively label the remarks as scapegoating. Still, attributing learners’ behavioral problems primarily to teachers, without sufficient empirical evidence, risks reducing a complex social phenomenon to a convenient target of blame (Allport, 1954/1979; Glick, 2005).

Filipino teachers deserve better. They are already carrying classrooms, paperwork, remediation, administrative responsibilities, and the countless demands that extend beyond the teaching of lessons. Their work requires patience, emotional strength, and an enduring commitment to children, often amid pressures that the public does not always see.

To question their commitment without examining the larger environment that shapes a child's behavior is unfair and overly simplistic. Teachers should not be convenient targets in conversations about problems that society collectively has a responsibility to address.

Our teachers do not need blame thrown at them. They need trust, support, protection, and recognition. After all, the work of raising a generation has never been theirs to carry alone.

The Demise of Civility

 

   

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There’s this thought-provoking discussion on Oprah’s podcast about the apparent demise of civility among people. A potent question was raised: “Why are people so mean these days?” We see it everywhere. Some customers yell at food servers and even destroy computers simply because their orders are late. Passengers on airplanes scream obscenities at flight attendants, while others kick the seats in front of them out of frustration. Ordinary inconveniences, it seems, have become excuses for extraordinary cruelty.

There are theories that people behave this way because of the difficult experiences they have carried from where they came from (i.e. work-related stress, family problems). But can that really be an excuse? Others point to the stress brought about by everything happening around us, especially our constant exposure to the rapid flow of information on social media. But perhaps we should also acknowledge that, to some extent, this stress is a consequence of our own indulgence in being constantly online.

Research on social media overload suggests that the sheer volume of information, interactions, and digital demands can leave people mentally exhausted. It raises an interesting question: Are we stressed by the world around us, or by our constant decision to remain connected to it? (Fu et al., 2020)

When social media came into our lives, people began to experience a kind of “power” they had never felt before. They could express themselves freely, voice opinions to a wide audience, and reveal aspects of their character, including their rudeness and hostility, with fewer reservations. In time, seeing others behave this way made such conduct easier to imitate. What was once restrained by social norms gradually became normalized.

There is also the question of personality, upbringing, and family background. These may shape how people respond to stress and conflict. When the right trigger comes, perhaps what emerges is not an entirely different person, but a side of them that has been shaped by years of experience and conditioning. If so, we are left with an uncomfortable question: Are some of the behaviors we see today also reflections of how people were taught to handle frustration, disagreement, and other people?

Perhaps the real question is not why people have become so mean, but why we have become so comfortable with it. Stress may explain our anger, social media may amplify it, and our past may shape it, but none of these should excuse cruelty.

Civility is ultimately a choice. In a world that is becoming increasingly loud and hostile, choosing kindness may be one of the quietest yet most powerful forms of strength.