Photographed by Borgy Angeles for the November 2024 Issue of Vogue Philippines
Journeying to La Union, Anthony Ramirez discovers the possibilities of their Abel Bangar.
On V. Luna Avenue in Quezon City, a two-storey Jollibee branch rests on one corner of a bustling intersection. Inside, punching in orders and handing over change from behind the counter (at least, for five months in 2009) was Anthony Ramirez.
“That was my first job,” says the now-fashion designer in Filipino. Although he attempts to recall his stint at the fast food chain, the details escape him like it’s a truly uninteresting memory. All he recounts is that he found himself there at 19, after family matters prompted him to drop out of college in freshman year. He likens it to serendipity; a cosmic pieces-falling-into-place moment for the young creative who yearned to trade a provincial life for a metropolitan one.
Born in Tacloban, raised in Calamba, and presently based in Manila, Anthony is no stranger to unchartered territories. He goes where the tides flow, and in 2019, the waves carried him to the vibrant coastal province of La Union in the northern region of Ilocos.
The region is home to abel, a general term for handloom-woven cloth and the tradition of weaving it. Each town produces their own weave with distinct patterns and materials; in an essay on Abel Iloco for the book A Journey Through Philippine Handwoven Textiles, Rene E. Gualto writes, “While the patterns of Ilocano abel are similar, there are subtle differences in color combinations, and the thickness of the weave, from gossamer mosquito nets to thick brocades and embroidery.” In La Union, their specialty weave is called Abel Bangar after the town that is famous for producing it.
It’s this textile that the local government endeavored to uplift by collaborating with Anthony, who had already been integrating it in his designs. Cheekily, he shares that some groomsmen are surprised to discover that certain accents on their suits aren’t brocade, but abel. This joint project with the Provincial Government of La Union entailed 20 outfits for the candidates of the Mutia ti La Union pageant, specifically for the Abel fashion show segment, as well as 10 looks for professional models.
Commonly used to decorate a home, abel is often interpreted as placemats, curtains, or blankets. The challenge for Anthony, then, was presenting it as a wearable fabric without making it look or feel like a costume. But that seemed secondary to a larger caveat which was the community’s waning interest in the craft. In his essay, published in 2013, Gualto notes that Abel is “a dying tradition, with weavers getting older, fewer younger people willing to learn the intricate patterns; and with raw materials, like handspun cotton thread, and natural vegetable dyes getting more and more scarce.” Anthony was astounded to discover this himself: during his site visit, when he asked older weavers about the history of the Abel Bangar, they confessed to not knowing much anymore.
The project’s weight settled on him. More than refreshing Abel Bangar for consumers, the larger mission was to sustain the locals’ interest in furthering its longevity, and by extension, preserve the craft.
In the end, Anthony’s interpretation for the models took the form of 10 evening wear ensembles of Abel Bangar interspersed with tulle, chiffon, feathers, and embellishments. Among them were a beige suit with a contrasting black collar and corseted high-slit gown. At a glance, the garments toughened abel’s humble, homely reputation, reintroducing it as a textile that could be worn to lavish dinners or red carpets.
Four years later, he was invited to show at Rampa Manila, a fashion show supported by the Manila City government. With the theme “Textile, Texture, and Technique,” it was once again an opportunity to revisit Bangar’s weaves. Only this time, instead of marrying the fabric to others, he decided on head to toe abel.
And you could tell, watching from the audience, that it hadn’t been done this way for a while. It made the viewers audible and perked up, the sight of white, beige, and black blankets fashioned into corsets, full fringe skirts, and hourglass suits. Some models carried clutches to match, made by a young creative Anthony discovered on TikTok; every single one wore bespoke shoes designed in collaboration with local shoe brand Janilyn.
As a designer accustomed to 10-piece collections, the 30-piece presentation ended up being one of his largest yet. This realization brings him back to memories of his first show review written by Daryl Chang, which bore the title (and he reveals this breathlessly) “Sex on Heels.”
He smiles now because the title still rings true. “Ang idea ko talaga ng fashion noon, is Versace [My idea of fashion before was Versace],” he says. The first dress that blew him away was from the Italian house’s Spring 2000 collection, a plunging jungle green number popularized by Jennifer Lopez at the 42nd Grammy Awards.
His hand was trained by years of being, in his words, the odd one out: getting paid to braid his classmates’ hair, scribbling mermaids on notebooks, designing red carpet looks for friends pretending to attend the VMAs, and even earlier years spent copying wedding gown sketches by veteran designers.
Sixteen years on, Anthony understands now that those childhood glimmers foreshadowed a sartorial language he was then still sharpening. To this day, his designs plunge like Donatella’s frocks, fit and flare like a siren’s figure. They’re embellished like the illustrated wedding gowns by Inno Sotto or Patis Tesoro, which he once saw across a newspaper column that announced the dresses of the latest society bride.
He couldn’t have dreamt this up. Not when he was watching J.Lo at the Grammy’s, not when he was braiding his classmates’ hair. But he’s grateful for the way the stars aligned, for the way they led him to the two-storey Jollibee branch at a bustling intersection in Quezon City, where a co-worker encouraged him to take his makeshift portfolio to Kamuning Street. There, Anthony’s first assistant designer role was simply waiting for him to arrive.
By TICIA ALMAZAN. Photographs by BORGY ANGELES. Fashion Editor DAVID MILAN. Makeup: Janica Cleto. Hair: JA Feliciano. Model: Ashanti Beltran. Producer: Anz Hizon. Nails: Extraordinail. Photographer’s Assistants: Pao Mendoza, Rojan Maguyon. Stylist’s Assistants: Anya Granados, Geno Espidol, Kyla Chuasiaokong, Marga Bautista, Neil de Guzman.
