Rain or shine, the concrete fence of Platero Barangay Hall is a mural work of summer. It is painted with vibrant hues of swirling colors with a friendly Mr. Sun, an army jungle hat, a green floral floppy hat, and a blue-and-white-striped baseball cap. Of course, there is also a seamstress in the painting for she is the one who makes everything happen. Here, she is shown at her machine working on a warm-colored baseball cap. This is only one of the many ways Barangay Platero honors the industry of sombrero (hat) making. To celebrate the hatmakers’ craftsmanship and resilience, the barangay has been organizing the annual Sombrero Festival every 17th of March since 2008. A flamboyant land float parade, exhilarating street dancing, and an exciting sombrero-making competition are some of the festival’s consistent highlights.
Hatmaking was only a recreation activity among the barangay residents at first, until they saw the opportunity to profit from it. They turned it into an export-quality industry, making it a well treasured economic strong point of Platero. But the industry functions beyond being a livelihood. More than anything, it serves as an avenue for bayanihan (communal unity), for camaraderie and solidarity.
Florencia “Nanay Vi” De Troz’s enterprise is only one of the 450 hat manufacturers in Platero—from small scale makers to large ones that are quartered in an old house’s silo. It was from her mother-in-law from whom she inherited the business, which may have been established in 1965. In her mother-in-law’s old house made of wood and capiz, and with treadle sewing machines, she carried on what was then the favored source of income. To sell her goods, she would peddle her sombreros from one town to another.
Only when Nanay Vi and her husband gained control of the business a decade after that they started keeping a list of patrons. They started with retailers from Baclaran or elsewhere sourcing wholesale sombreros. Their list has grown long since with a diversity of patrons, including a president who had hats made during her campaign, and multinational car manufacturers that order hats for giveaways. The business-mindedness in Nanay Vi impelled her to encourage her children to scale up the inherited business. So now, just across the old house is a store that caters to the masses, and a few steps from it is a store for young people, both of which are managed by her children. What’s more, she utilized her son’s competency in computer and invested in computerized embroidery.
As with any business, De Troz Enterprises has had its share of ups and downs. The massive importation of China-made hats was a shake-up to the long-standing industry. But iron-willed as she is, Nanay Vi did not let this stop her business from growing vigorously. The hatmaking industry of Platero actually grew, unlatching a reason for the big hatmakers to tap the small ones, through subcontracting, when they receive bulk orders that they could not fill. In the case of Nanay Vi, she also sees to it that her “subcons” frequently receive projects so they would not feel the upshot of the stiff competition with foreign traders. Instead of a ruthless competition that would eventually kill the small ones, the big and small hatmakers give each other a sense of optimism, hoping that it could keep the long history of sombrero making well and alive.
