Now that I think about it, the Havaiana craze is really a product of marketing genius. I mean, what were they before? Pedestrian (so to speak) footwear, right?
Ever since I can remember (not meant to be a conversational gambit regarding my age), rubber slippers have been a fact of domestic life. It was the footwear of last resort, something you slip on only in the privacy of your home, or maybe, to take a quick trip to the corner bakery. Maybe, at most, a walk on a sandy beach. But in polite company? They were absolute no-nos.
These tsinelas (rooted in the Hispanic chinelas) were the cheapest possible form of foot protection. They cost what? P20 bucks? P50 at the most? You can even buy Louis Vuitton fakes in Bangkok for the equivalent of P75 pesos. Emblematic of the lower class, they became the usual punishment for naughty kids by fed-up parents. Remember the term "tsinelasin?" (hit with a slipper). Of course, the ultimate insult was, to be slapped on the face by a tsinelas.
Around three years ago, I was shopping in Hong Kong when I came across these absolutely mouth-watering pair of Gucci flip-flops (they were made of leather!). I had to fit them on, admire my usually ugly feet in the mirror, and seriously reflect on the magical way Gucci is able to transform people's otherwise mundane lives. They were so cool and I was on the verge of buying them, when I suddenly realized: Hey! This is equivalent to at least 3 month's salary of someone working on minimum wage back home.
That killed it. I felt so guilty that I immediately took them off, vowing to be more responsible with future purchase decisions. (Although now is not an appropriate time to bring up all those moments when I lost my resolve inside a Gucci establishment). I slunk off to join my friends (who were inside the more moderately priced Agnes B.) and contemplated already ending the shopping spree for the day. Happily, I saw some jeans that dispelled these uncharacteristic thoughts.
In any case, here we now are, a society where wearing slippers in public used to be shunned, sneered at, or even barred from some fine establishments. But miraculously, with word of mouth, a little podia-envy, slick advertising, and of course, the Filipino's usual tendency to blindly follow what's cool abroad, tsinelas have evolved into flip-flops, the ultimate in cool, especially when paired with slacks and blazers (never you mind if it's a hot humid day in the tropics).
What's more, from a tell-tale sign of lack of spending power, wearing the right branded pair is now a status symbol. Let's not even get into those special dress-up-your-flip flops gimmicks, where name fashion designers tack on Swarovski crystals and other gaudy baubles as accessories, which are then auctioned off to gullible consumers. Another vestige of colonial mentality, I'm afraid.
Well, maybe I shouldn't be so hard on those who have fallen prey to the lure of imported Havaianas. It's perhaps the same critique you can give to those who prefer Starbucks espresso over the local barako blend (guilty!), or who drink Evian as opposed to tap. In the end, as I said, it's a matter of conscience (which, sad to say, I have less than normal quantities of).
But, at least, I'm improving. Markedly! Now, I make it sort of a point to buy local. To bring dried mangos as presents for friends abroad. To buy Bench products as Christmas gifts. A couple of jusi scarves from Carmen's linens for elegant lady friends, and knick-knacks from Ethnic Ventures, as housewarming gifts.
And for myself? Well, maybe this year I'll finally order that dream Kenneth Cobonpue rattan chair. (And this was way before Brad Pitt made him a household name by ordering a crib for Shiloh Nouvel, ok?)