Of all the native attires — the terno, balintawak, maria clara, malong and sawal, it’s the baro’t saya of the 18 th century which makes me feel confident when I wear it. Thin women would look good wearing it. The baro’t saya with a pañuelo adds volume to frail bodies.
Browsing through Pattern for the Filipino Dress by Salvador Bernal and Georgina Encanto, one reads that local seamstresses of the 17th century copied Nuestra Señora de los Remedios’ sleeves from her statue. And form then on even the Filipina’s native baro was copied from our Lady’s blouse.
Seeing our Lady’s photograph reminds me of Auggie Cordero’s soft stylized piña blouse I bring abroad to the delight of the Westeners.
The book, published by the Cultural Center of the Philippines, shows various photographs, among these a print by German historian-traveler Johannes Carl Karuth. The saya of a full skirt extending to the floor and the Filipiniana sleeves were tubular in shape, and a little wide on the wrist.
In time the sleeves became wider, for comfort and to relieve women from the warm weather. The pañuelo grew larger too with its ends reaching down to the waist proportionate to the loose sleeves.
In the 1880s, the saya came in broad strips of contrasting colors on wide skirts and the camisa had huge graceful bell sleeves covering the elbows for balance and proportion. Its neckline was wider and the panuelo became optional. It was practical that way, going about chores without having a shawl over a top to keep in place.
The elite mestizas of Manila, Salvador Bernal wrote, wore intricately embroidered camisa de piña and matching pañuelo. Being less in the labor load, delicate blouse suited their stature. Their camisas were cut slightly above the waist. The sleeve of the camisa was flared out. The pañuelo was worn around the neck like in the painting entitled “Una Bulakeña” by Juan Luna in 1895.
The camisa underwent radical changes. The sleeves of the camisa became shorter and the pañuelo bigger and more of an accessory rather than a protective covering. How flattering and more feminine it was.
Georgina Encanto in Patterns says that in the early 1920s, further straighter silhouette of the saya came about softened by the effects created by the sobrefalda. It could be a rectangular piece draped on both sides of the skirt or a knee-length illusion tulle appearing as just an accessory encircling the whole skirt like an apron. The panuelo was left more open to blend and fall casually over the camisa.
From photographs I treasure, the stiffly starched sleeves of the terno were wide and shorter than the maria clara like what my Kapampangan grandmother Gloria Linarez Berenguer de los Reyes and my great grandmother’s photos at breakfast in Atimonan, Quezon. Josefa Samson Lopez Manzano didn’t get to live to see the trains become longer so that they often had to be draped or looped around the arm or tucked into the waist. Patis Tesoro has made me a straight or A-line saya’s with its top attached to the saya for faster dressing. I put a tapis of either printed or plain over it that fits Bernal’s description. I like to believe the tapis became part of the Filipino dress to protect the skirt from getting dirty and stained and was a cover for modesty.
The succession of Carnival Queens in the 1920s, most of whom were daughters of prominent families, enhanced the popularity of the terno. Among these Carnival Queens who wore the ternos were Virginia Llamas (1922), Anita Noble, the first Miss Philippines (1926), and my auntie Pacita de los Reyes (1929).
In the early 1930s, a stiff and inexpensive material from Switzerland called cañamazo became available for the camisa and pañuelo and the earlier Maria Clara was part of this era again with a serpentine skirt instead of a full sheared skirt.
A major fashion event which revolutionized the terno was the total removal of the pañuelo in 1946. The pañuelo-less terno of 1946 had either a full skirt or a slim silhouette. A decorative fabric was draped at the side or infront. It had big bows or smaller decorations at the front of the waist just above the hipline lace décor.
In the mid-50s, the pencil cut arrived in the scene to show off a waist line or sewed ala-long torso or a tight skirt or an A-line with a slight flare in the hemline or a dragging fabric called a “tail” at its back.
Two other changes of the terno wear the bubble skirt or harem skirt with the hemline gathered and then tucked up to form a puffball; and the marshmallow or bloused effect beginning from the waist and tucked lightly below the knee or to the ankle with a plain fabric under the puff.
In the 1960s, figure hugging ternos were fashionable with pleats, drapes, and panels used to entice a “why not” bit of flirtatiousness to accentuate or even camouflage undesirable body parts with feathers, ribbons, ruffles, embroidery, pearls, beads, rhinestones or sequins. The neckline? It became a deep décolleté.
I saw patterns on how to sew ternos, make a panuelo and terno top from Patterns. I couldn’t resist batting for a dying art of elegant Filipino dresses which Patis Tesoro continues to revive and innovate what is native and beautiful on the Filipina. Watch her fashion show on June 19.