FASHION DESIGN

RAMON VALERA:
This feature story was originally titled as A Cut Above The Rest, published in the August 2003
issue of Tatler Philippines.This story was copied as is, changes were made only on the lead
paragraph above. Three years after this article was published, Ramon Valera was conferred the
title of National Artist for Fashion Design.
He was celebrated for his ingenuity and craftsmanship, for revolutionizing the national costume,
for his masterly embroidery and beadwork and for translating Philippine motifs into
contemporary terms. The greatest of all was his manipulation by cut—he would sew a dress to
perfection without using a pattern. Ramon Valera was the Dean of Philippine Fashion as he was
a creative innovator.

He was born on August 31, 1912, to a well-to-do family. His father, Melecio, was a partner of the
tycoon Vicente Madrigal. Since his youth, Valera had been a natural in fashion design. His
mother, Pilar Oswald, noticed that the dolls displayed on the piano would suddenly have new
clothes. Did he study or was he self-taught as his relatives claimed? In an essay for the terno
exhibit at the Cultural Centre of the Philippines, Cris Almario wrote that Valera studied under
Mina Roa, who made ternos for the elite before World War II. She taught him European
construction and draping techniques. In his teens he made Sunday clothes for his sisters, who
would be noticed by the churchgoers. An early attempt was making a yellow and purple dress, a
combination unheard of in those days, for his sister to wear on College Day.
Valera studied at La Salle and was one semester short of completing a commerce course at the
Far Eastern University. When his father died, the lawyer cheated on the will since Valera's
widow didn't understand English. This left the family in an unstable financial condition. Valera
quit school and started to work.
Valera's early innovation was modernizing the terno in 1939. He revived the traje de mestiza
(what we know as the Maria Clara), traditionally a four-piece ensemble consisting of a blouse,
skirt, overskirt, and scarf. He exaggerated the bell sleeves, which were copied by many. Then
the terno became a one-piece silhouette, fastened with a zipper instead of hooks. He shocked
the public when he removed the panuelo or scarf which covered the woman's bosom. At first the
public thought the style was immodest, but a few political wives, such as Mrs. Claro M Recto
and Mrs Primitivo Lovina, were open-minded enough to show off the new look.
After the war, Valera's reputation grew. His home and atelier on Mayon Street, Quezon City,
remained for several decades of creativity. He recognized the offshoots of the postwar boom.
He set his imagination to adapt to the needs of high society, which was running in full gear. As a
designer, Valera purveyed luxury manifested by the then progressive economy.
No designer like Valera mastered the art of constructing sleeves. In the 1950s Valera reworked
the butterfly sleeves of the national costume by using a stiff but hidden built-in support that
became the basis of today's terno. The ternos he created for the annual Kahirup ball became
the dominant silhouette the following year. One of the classic designs was a tentlike terno with
detachable butterfly sleeves that became an asymmetric neckline gown.
Valera's faultless construction was an art in its own right. He simply measured the client and cut
on the fabric, disregarding the toile or pattern. The clothes never changed the woman's figure or
forced her to look rail-thin. They celebrated the shape without mirroring it.
Valera was also famous for his surprise element, called the "close-open technique". The wearer
would be shrouded in mystery and when she removed the covering, it would reveal a wonder.
For the Philippine fashion show at the Seattle's World Fair in 1962, Valera created a coat terno
which, when the coat was removed, showed a short dress made of closely stitched bugle beads
in a diagonal design and in contrasting colours of black, orange and white. He drew inspiration
from the Philippine waters such as a sea-blue gown with an embroidered shell pattern and
Osmeña pearls and another gown encrusted with real coral in authentic coral sprays. For the
finale, he presented a Muslim wedding gown with a headdress fashioned from garlands of
artificial sampaguitas. The garlands were repeated around the waist and fell graciously over a
classic skirt.
For American Vogue, he created a tunic version of the Philippine blouse called the kimona. His
competitors knocked the Filipino tunic and other Valera designs such as the sheath wedding
dress made for his niece. He bristled at an attempt to copy his works, particularly by another
designer whom he called a copione, or plagiarist.

A highlight of Valera's career was the back-to-back fashion show with the Japanese designer
George Oca at the Manila Hotel during the Garcia administration. Valera's niece and sister flew
to Hong Kong to source the fabrics and notions. Valera was said to have upstaged Oca as he
indulged in all-out drama with his exaggerated silhouettes, colours, embroidery and beadwork.
He tore out chunky necklaces and sewed the stones onto the gowns to create beautiful
patterns.
Valera designed the inaugural gowns of all the first ladies from Aurora Quezon to Imelda
Marcos, except for Evangelina Macapagal, although he did make the debutante gown of her
daughter, President Gloria Arroyo. One of his most publicized designs was a gown worn by
Imelda Marcos on a state visit to Iran. He followed the pattern of an elaborate necklace and
repeated it on her gown.
Valera also made clothes for Queen Sirikit of Thailand, Anita Bryant and Ladybird Johnson. In a
handwritten card, the American first lady expressed her gratitude to the designer: "You were
kind to send extra beads for my dress. It never fails to receive compliments at official functions.
Now I enjoy wearing it more. Ladybird."
Among his muses were Elvira Manahan, whom he dressed for free in her vaudeville days, and
Imelda Marcos when she was still a model. He also favoured Chito Madrigal, Gloria Romero,
Barbara Perez, Vicky Quirino, Chona Kasten, Nena Vargas, Susan Magalona and Rose
Osmeña.

"If he should ever get tired of dress designing, Valera would be as successful as an interior
decorator," she wrote. "The only thing we had against the Valera house is that it is so perfect
that it leaves one completely dissatisfied with one's own decorating efforts." White and gold
dominated with touches of greens and blues. The chairs and divan looked luxurious although
they were in leatherette. Valera considered the practicality in upkeep. The banquette and
tabletops were covered in marble. The place was adorned with classic draperies, crystals and a
marble statuary. In the kitchen, every item, including fish paste, was stored in apothecary jars or
tiered trays that were neatly. Arranged on the shelves were flower patterns from Hong Kong. He
used fine silver for everyday dining.
For the birthday of the style arbiter Pilar Romack of New Yorker, Valera created a centrepiece
made from gold-sprayed driftwood, from which sprouted gilt leaves dripping with glass prisms
and poses of red African daisies. Valera took to work as easily as he took to drink, especially
when pressures of work mounted. When he was extremely stressed, he sought psychiatric help.
In a routine examination, it was discovered that he had the IQ of a genius.
The years of gin and hard work took their toll months before his 60th birthday. "He went for a
check-up in the hospital. They were detoxifying him, forgetting that he was hypertensive. He
was given the wrong medication. He suffered massive cerebral hemorrhage and went into a
coma for most of the week," said Valera-Jimenez.
Valera died in 1972 at the age of 59. The country lost the only designer who could claim the
innovation of a certain silhouette or the advent of a style evolution.