Hot, heavy and hooded

Another jacket.” 

That’s what my brother said when our dad met us one time at the mall. He was, of course, just excited to answer our dad’s question about what we had bought. He didn’t even volunteer to say what he got for himself.

What can I say? The jacket was red. I love red, and I love jackets even more. My brother is right, though — it is another jacket. I have enough jackets to stay warm in Alaska.

I love long-sleeved clothes, hoodies, jackets and cardigans especially. There are so many nice styles and designs available that I have to be constantly reminded not to spend more than I should on them. When I see a particularly lovely design, however, those mental notes are instantly forgotten.

Unfortunately, I have not had my fill of jackets, though my closet does house an immodest number of them. I have at least one jacket in almost every color. Most of them are frilly and girly, but one is all black with grenade prints for the times when my inner emo rears its ugly head.

I wear hoodies and jackets all the time. One reason is they are a good way to spice up an outfit, or to hide bodily, uh, curves that need to stay hidden. Those with muffin tops and love handles know what I mean.

Another reason is that I get cold really easily in spite of my natural, well, protective layering. Sometimes, the jackets make me sweat, but I never complain. I stew in silence. Other people voice what my body wants to scream out loud: “Hindi ka ba naiinitan?” or “Parang init na init ka na, ah!”

Others ask, “Bakit hindi mo kasi tanggalin ‘yang jacket mo?” This usually elicits dagger looks from me. But I still manage to smile. 

Truthfully, I could always shed off the extra layer (or sometimes even layers) of clothing when it gets too hot. I just don’t want to. I find carrying jackets extremely annoying, and wrapping them around the waist — as others do — would just ruin the outfit. Fussy, I know. But I would rather bear the discomfort of a little added warmth than do something against my will.

The only reason I would ever shed my jacket is if I am already sweating buckets and beginning to reek of that more annoying body smell — you know, sweat. Or when yucky wet patches appear under my arms — binabangasan na, as we say down south — whichever comes first. I knew there’s a reason why they are also called “sweat shirts.”

Even my family comments on my wardrobe choices. Take for instance a time when we were having a late afternoon stroll and I was wearing one of my favorite hoodies. It was very hot out and my dad saw a girl wearing a hoodie, not unlike the one I was wearing. He said that she looked stupid wearing something so warm in such humid weather. And then he looked at me pointedly before laughing malevolently. I could do nothing but glare at him because I was definitely feeling the heat. I didn’t have armpit stains yet, so the hoodie stayed on.

I will continue wearing jackets, despite the sweltering Pinoy weather. So, when opportunities to wear them arise, I always give in to my weakness. 

And I am not alone in my extreme fondness for jackets — extreme, since we live in a tropical country, where it is always hot and humid.

A fashion-forward foreigner friend of mine visited the Philippines two years ago. She came here mid-September — very rainy, very wet, and very hot. She wore nothing but shorts and tank tops the whole time she was here. Rain or shine, she refused to wear much else. Even when wearing so little, she perspired a lot, often looking like a cooked lobster as she did so.

 She was quite shocked when she saw hordes of Filipinos wearing jackets as they wandered along the Manila Baywalk or in the tiangges.

Ever since hoodies became fashionable a few years ago, they have become a staple in every Filipino’s closet. And like me, Filipinos will wear their hoodies and jackets whether the mercury is up or down.

My mother recently asked me if hoodies were still in fashion. My mind flashed back to images of my brother wearing his hoodie at our Christmas party, to guys in black hoodies playing at Timezone, followed by pictures of students strutting around their school campuses wearing their school colors or monograms on their long sleeves. Ending my mental montage was a memory of a concert I watched with my friends at the Fort Open Field. Everyone seemed to be wearing a hoodie. It was no cool night either; it was a jam-packed affair with no wind or rain to offer a respite from the heat. Yet, crazily enough, the hoodies stayed on.

I answered my mom’s question with a laugh, saying, “Uh. Yeah. I guess so. Another jacket.”