salakot

All 3 pages of the 'putting Glitchtale characters in traditional Filipino clothes' thing I did over on Instagram- jESUS THAT'S A LOTTA PEOPLE-

Actually I haven't even done anything on the Grey Phantoms yet and there's been a lot of people who wanted it so Imma plan that real quick before I start... Tomorrow. Maybe-

Here we go, fellas. I am here to grace you with my most self-indulgent video to date:

My Filipino-American ass trying to catch every Pinoy reference in Raya and the Last Dragon.

The first encounter of the word salacot was in the Vocabulario de la Lengua Tagala (1613) by Franciscan friar Pedro de Buenaventura. At least among the Tagalog natives, it is certain that the Philippines headdress has long existed prior. Other words also in the publication included the following:

lingca / lingka -. an ornament on top of the salakot

silap - a type of salakot

torong - a salakot made from the nipa palm.

Today the salakot may hardly be seen in public, but up until a hundred years ago, the ornate Filipino headdress was commonplace with all members of society wearing it. Most made do with the woven nipa, but the aristocracy had salakot adorned with silver and gold, and some even wore turtle shell. I would consider it a romantic and almost emblematic part of 1800′s Philippines. Most photographs and paintings from the era would, if you notice, depict Filipinos wearing these woven hats, which came in various sizes and styles.

In fact, most houses at that time would have a rack for when guests came to your house. It was also customary for the host to offer to take someone’s salakot, and offer it when the guest left as Westerner’s do so with guests coats. During fiestas, the men would even offer their headress to a lady in exchange for a dance. 

Panguingue by Jose Taviel de Andrade

Several writings talk about the popular hat -- Englishmen, Frenchmen and several Spanish writings mention the salakot as an affixed fashion.

The Calzada, a broad road a little beyond the walls of the fortress, is to Manila what Hyde Park is to London, the Champs Elysées to Paris, and the Meidan ]to Calcutta. It is the gathering place of the opulent classes, and from five o’clock P.M. to the nightfall is crowded with carriages, equestrians and pedestrians, whose mutual salutations seem principally to occupy their attention: the taking off hats and the responses to greetings and recognitions are sufficiently wearisome. Twice a week a band of music plays on a raised way near the extremity of the patio. Soon after sunset there is a sudden and general stoppage. Every one uncovers his head; it is the time of the oracion announced by the church bells: universal silence prevails for a few minutes, after which the promenades are resumed.  

If Sir Bowring finds the tipping of hats to be wearisome in 1850′s Manila, I’m afraid he might probably abhor the morning walk in the 21st century, where I have to greet a multitude of people in the village on my way to work. It should also be noted that he didn’t just mention people tipping their hats as most Westerners do; rather, the older generations took their hats as a sign of respect for the people they’re speaking to 

Henry T. Ellis, whose book written only a couple of years after Sir John Bowring’s, observes the same attitudes particularly during the sunset prayer.

A stranger on the “Calzada” is surprised to see all the carriages stop at the instant of sunset, as by common consent - gentlemen, servants, and all, taking their hats off, and remaining so for the space of a minute or two. The intention, which struck me as being a graceful and pleasing one, is to afford an opportunity of repeating mentally a verper prayer, a thanksgiving for the blessings of the day past, and protection besought for the night to come, which being concluded with the sign of the cross, heads are again covered, and the carriages rattle on as briskly as before. I support there are people sufficiently bigoted in Protestantism to condemn even so simple and becoming a custom as this; and fancy it might lead to the idolatrous adoration of the setting sun....

Under the Mango Tree by Fernando Amorsolo

By the 1890′s the salakot was still pretty commonplace. though the cloth headdress has also become common, which you might find in several Fernando Amorsolo paintings, such as the one above entitled Under the Mango Tree. John Foreman writes...

Salakót.

I'm coming for blood.