If you think fashion today is all about tacky fast fashion and political statements, you're about to get a lesson from history's elite. Meet Ramón Valera, the Philippine couturier you never knew you needed to know about. Born on August 31, 1912, in the Philippines, Valera was the rare individual who knew exactly what people wanted: glamour, elegance, and, above all, authenticity. He was designing for society's most influential figures long before social media influencers made fashion shows a viral extravaganza.
Valera’s notable contribution to Filipino culture was the reinvention of the Baro't Saya. For the uninitiated, this was the traditional and iconic dress of Filipino women before the modern era got its grubby hands on it. Valera single-handedly transformed it into the Terno gown, cutting it from the traditional mold and elevating it to an exalted art form. Why did he do it? Because he could. And because high society demanded an evolution that spoke both of tradition and sophistication. It seems Valera believed style doesn't have to sacrifice one's roots.
Recognized by the Philippines as a National Artist for Fashion Design, Valera was more than just a designer; he was an artist who painted with textiles and imagined every woman as a masterpiece in the making. Think of him as the Michelangelo of fashion; no one's chiseling away to create a masterpiece in today’s sweatshop economy. Alive from 1912 to May 25, 1972, he was one of the first fashion dynamos to cross various strata of society, dressing everyone from politicians to film stars. Imagine how he would interpret today's fashion scene dominated by influencers and their largely forgettable collaborations!
Let’s zoom into his creation of the butterfly sleeves—something you’d need to see to believe if you've only ever feasted your eyes on lackluster fashion tutorials. Valera didn't 'create' the sleeves as much as perfect them, taking the iconic Filipino style and making it entirely his own. It became a staple for the Filipino elite, showcasing a daintiness that also bore undertones of national pride. Unlike the loud, obnoxious ‘statements’ that you see in contemporary fashion, Valera’s creations whispered chicness and projected power.
Valera’s era was not dictated by corporate interests or the whims of liberals who mistake shock value for style. His designs were the antithesis of commoditized clothing lines and boxy cuts that pass as fashionable today. One of the most celebrated couturiers in the history of the Philippines, he's remembered for weaving a nuanced blend of tradition and modernity without succumbing to societal or political pressures.
He achieved all this recognition the old-fashioned way, too—sheer talent without a massive marketing machine behind him. He had no need for gimmicks or disruption. His work disrupted by simply being superior. Ironically, for someone who never formally learned the craft of design, he taught himself the ropes and dominated a field often guarded by elitists, a triumph that echoes how ability can often surpass privilege.
Now, being a patriot wasn’t just a theme for Valera's designs; it was his life philosophy. During a time when Western influences were pervasive, Valera quietly maintained a sense of nationalism without the pretentious fanfare that pervades social media activism today. He drew from his own culture and resisted pandering to what's 'in.' Wouldn't it be refreshing to embrace this philosophy in our current age of mass production and superficial statements?
The geniuses of old had their muses, and in Valera’s case, there were many. He often dressed prominent women like Imelda Marcos, then First Lady of the Philippines. Valera turned the Terno into a symbol of political and social stature. But hey, let’s not forget that it was Valera’s vision that made these roles iconic—not the other way around.
We should note that Valera was also a pioneer in localizing fashion. He daringly closed the gender gap in terms of who dictated what was stylish. Most design houses dominated by men at the time rarely considered women's input; Valera made it clear that women's voices have agency in style without aiming for cheap publicity or trends.
So, why don't more people know about him today? Perhaps it’s because Valera's story doesn't align with the kind of narratives that dominate clicks or social media trends. Perhaps because he stood for intrinsic values that don't excuse mediocrity or trendiness. Precisely why his name needs echoing into people's consciousness today, lest we forget what a true revolutionary looks like in the world of high fashion.
Would it be too much to hope for a revival of authentic, awe-inspiring fashion in this age of instant gratification? One wonders how Ramón Valera’s legacy would shape up against the circus of today's fashion week circuses. Unfortunately, we'll never know, but isn’t it delightful to think about?