Fashion

Found Treasures: Reflections on ‘Ukay-ukay’ in Filipino Culture

STEPH VERANO upcycled headpiece, top, and trousers. Photographed by Karl King Aguña for the March 2025 Issue of Vogue Philippines

By reflecting on ukay-ukay or thrift shopping from a holistic perspective, we recognize the promise of this inherent cultural practice while understanding its complexities. 

It is said that the value of life lies in its depth, not in the fleeting moments of acquisition. What if the same were true in fashion, that value is created with time? Within fashion, an object can attain value through function, sentimental significance, heritage, or monetary worth. From the perspective of how life gains richness with age, items can grow in value as they accumulate layers of experiences. 

How can we respect the farmer, tanner, weaver, and the many people behind the life cycle of a pre-loved garment? Reused and reimagined pieces are given new meaning and significance as they move through their life cycle. 

In Filipino culture, sharing hand-me-downs is an age-old tradition, where inheriting a relative’s clothes is expected. Moreover, the practice of ukay-ukay (thrift shopping) and pre-loved clothing is commonplace throughout the archipelago. 

Derived from the word hukay (to dig up), relating to rummaging through piles of clothing and tightly cramped clothing racks, ukay-ukay refers to the sale of imported secondhand clothing. 

Originating from the northern city of Baguio, it is also known as wagwagan, meaning “dusting off a piece of clothing by taking hold of one end and snapping it in the air.” The secondhand clothing market has been active in the Philippines for over 50 years, growing exponentially after the Second World War because of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration’s provision of aid supplies. In the 1980s, the industry flourished as non-governmental organizations sold tax-free clothing as a way of fundraising. 

Within the Philippines, the ukay-ukay industry is found at the intersection of a myriad of issues: economical, as it is a source of livelihood for many in the country; cultural, concerning identity construction and empowerment; and environmental, due to waste management. 

The concept of ukay is a central pillar of circular fashion in the Philippines. It ensures that garments are kept in circulation for as long as possible and addresses a fundamental need for Filipinos: access to affordable clothing. 

“This generation prides itself on its identity. We’re no longer bound by the constructs of clothing.”

It furthermore highlights the versatility, flexibility, and adaptability of the Filipino people. Filipino domestic helpers in the diaspora are celebrated as the industry’s founders and are responsible for the initial boom of ukay-ukay throughout the country. These Hong Kong-based entrepreneurs carved out their livelihoods by reselling their personal garments and thrift shop finds to buyers in Baguio. 

Within the Philippines, ukay-ukay clothing is recirculated and recycled as much as possible, with very little of it being disposed of. Filipinos showcase their resourcefulness and creatively reuse items to meet their needs. When clothes aren’t sold successfully, they are sold at lower prices or in bundles, relocated to different stores, or transformed into basahan (rags) and used for cleaning. 

In an age saturated with fast fashion, which frequently comes with an air of disposability, thrift culture has become trendy among younger generations, presenting itself as a compelling alternative to the fast fashion model.

Stylist Lyn Alumno remarks, “[Ukay-ukay] slows down the demand for new clothing, with consumers prioritizing pieces that will stand the test of time over fleeting trends. In doing so, it helps reduce the carbon emissions, the footprint of discarded textiles, and the energy consumption involved in the production of clothes.”

Moving beyond the practice’s sustainable promise, contemporary society has come to embrace fashion as an art form and a cultural means of personal expression, placing value on the rarity and history of pieces.  

Alumno observes, “This generation prides itself on its identity. There’s more liberty in choosing how to wear clothes now more than ever… We’re no longer bound by the constructs of clothing.” Jones Palteng, a photographer, stylist, and avid collector of archival designer pieces, agrees. “For the young Filipinos of the early 2010s, ukay-ukays have become a refuge of sorts,” he says, “a bit of a rebellion from the mainstream styles offered by high street brands. Clothes from thrift stores allowed Filipinos with specific tastes to express their personal style more authentically.”

Yet, ukay-ukay has its downsides: undermining the local garment industry, the perpetuation of systems of inequality, and enabling destructive consumption habits due to low prices. 

Thrifted jacket, CHUSETTE tights, and GUCCI loafers. Photographed by Karl King Aguña for the March 2025 Issue of Vogue Philippines

The practice simplifies clothing to price rather than other cultural attributes such as craft, quality, and labour, as Philippine-made textiles are 30% more expensive than their counterparts. While it’s not necessarily the main reason for the decline of the local industry, it deters investment in the local clothing trade and potentially eliminates jobs for those who depend on making clothes for a living. 

With the rising trend of thrifting and the glorification of the practice as a noble pursuit, individuals feel validated by purchasing thrifted items with the money they were planning to spend on fast fashion. Moreover, due to the gentrification of thrift stores, the prices of ukay-ukay have the potential to increase, making it more difficult for low-income earners to access inexpensive clothing. 

Continuing onward, ukay-ukay culture must be acknowledged as a nuanced phenomenon. 

Alumno remarks, “Aside from [having] educational programs on upcycling, [the ukay-ukay practice could benefit from] donation hubs that can distribute unsold clothes to local communities that [can] create something new out of these raw materials. Rewarding tax incentives for businesses that adapt and thrive on sustainable practices can [also] help uplift the local industry.” 

Through this process, we achieve a collective consciousness of clothing in which all aspects of garments—their source, manufacturers, and designers—are appreciated. In fashion, the inverse of value is disposability. By participating in ukay-ukay, we continue a thread through a shared piece of clothing and are pushed to respect each pre-loved item’s life span. 

There’s an emotional connectivity and intention towards the process of selling and shopping found within ukay-ukay culture that is centered on gratitude for the things that we own. When we sell and purchase pieces from an ethical and sentimental standpoint, we’re more likely to foster a long-lasting connection, encouraging reuse and reducing the likelihood of disposal. Approaching the cultural phenomenon of ukay-ukay from a posture of humility and reverence allows us to envision the promising future secondhand fashion offers to generations to come.

By KARINA SWEE. Photographs by KARL KING AGUÑA. Styling by CARLOS MANGUBAT. Makeup: Pam Robes. Hair: Mong Amado. Model: Ashanti of Audacity. Photographer’s Assistant: Rojan Maguyon, Ruby Pedregosa. Stylist’s Assistant: Ruzzian Escaros. Shot on location at Open Space.

Vogue Philippines: March 2025

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