Let’s not talk about the floods, missing life-term prisoners, slap-happy motorists, or the less-than-glorious showing of our Olympic team in London. Let’s talk of humor and lightearted people to brighten the mood this weekend. God knows we need it. This article will mix this jovial angle with a previous series of articles of mine, where you had to guess the personalities from pictures I’ve unearthed from the past.
No one can escape a dedicated archivist. I’m not that dedicated, but I do spend an inordinate amount of time wallowing through old books, periodicals and assorted ephemera on the Philippines. People, places and things all have origins and backstories. Today’s guessing game involves a current celebrity, one who is seen everywhere where it counts in the fabric of high society, and who had his start in actual fabrics.
Yes, instead of the frustrating floods surrounding us, let’s talk fascinating fabrics. The Philippines was, in fact, the fabric capital of the Far East — at least in the ‘50s to the ‘70s. One of the biggest manufacturers in those boom decades was Litton Mills. It started in the mid-’50s in an industry that was on the rise.
By the ‘60s there were over 20 textile mills in the country. Litton was the biggest operation with modern factories in Mandaluyong and Pasig (Manila had banned factories in the ‘50s and this led to the exodus to the then-sparsely populated suburbs of Makati, Mandaluyong, Pasig and Marikina).
Litton’s P40 million plant in Rosario, Pasig, was one of the largest and most expensive factories back then (remember that the Philippine peso was two pesos to one US dollar back in those days). The factory integrated mill operations from spinning to weaving and finally to finishing.
The ultra-modern Litton Mills complex in Pasig covered 28 hectares. The factory floor space was about 70,000 square meters, which is equivalent to the space inside one of our modern-day malls. The Pasig mills made world-class fabric including denim, chambray and khaki. It also made yarn (which is why it makes for a great story).
The factory in Mandaluyong was a knitting mill. It used the yarn produced by the Pasig plant. The Litton Knitting Mills in Mandaluyong was a landmark I used to pass every day on the way to high school at Don Bosco Technical Institute on Kalentong, a few kilometers down Shaw Boulevard.
The raw material for the mills was cotton, which was mostly imported from the United States. We did grow some of our own cotton, in Isabela, but the production was limited.
The two mills employed close to 4,000 workers and management at its peak. The factories and workforce produced about 30 million meters of fabric a year -- enough to clothe all the Filipinos then and the rest were exported.
The Litton story started with an Englishman, with roots from Yorshire and Dublin, coming to our balmy shores via China. George Litton Sr. became a Filipino citizen in the 1920s. He married a local lass, Rosa Tulod. George had success in local business and was able to build a grand house in Ermita to house his expanding family. The house, a fantastic three-story revivalist-style structure, was a landmark on Isaac Peral (now United Nations Avenue).
The family survived the war to build up the family businesses in the ‘50s. The siblings Edward, George Jr. and James entered the business first. They were followed by sisters Emma, Gloria and Grace. Finally, the youngest, John entered the fray. Well, you guessed it. The mystery fellow in my not-so-difficult guessing game is none other than good old Johnny Litton.
Before heading to his ultimate calling — that of becoming a society columnist, TV celebrity, PR honcho, event host and all-around good guy — he was general manager of the Litton Knitting Mills in Mandaluyong. It took me a few seconds before I recognized him in a magazine article from the 1960s. He looked like he was fresh out of college (of course now he’s just fresh with the ladies!).
I love Johnny Litton. He’s everyone’s back-slapping friend, funny uncle, life of the party (since he hosts a lot). He never fails to call me out whenever I find myself at one of the many events he’s in charge of. People may find his jokes corny, and even if I can see the punch lines coming a mile away, he always makes me laugh. He is a Philippine treasure … and a Philippine STAR treasure, at that. If they had a National Artist award for hosting humor, Johnny would win it hands down.
The floods may come, our Olympians may miss their marks, prisoners may flee Bilibid but, Bilibid or not, there’s no escaping Johnny Litton. Oh, no, where would we be without him?
* * *
Feedback is welcome. Please email the writer at paulo.alcazaren@gmail.com.