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.
