Corduroy

At the Christmas party of The FREEMAN at the Parklane Hotel last December 13, the table where I and the wife found ourselves had around it a merry mix of colleagues consisting of Baby Boomers and those from a generation or two who came after.

Actually, I deliberately picked that table because my good friend Bobit Avila was seated there. Bobit is a good conversationalist. He is so good a conversationalist he ends up doing all the talking, ha ha ha. No wonder he is able to write daily columns for Freeman and Philstar.

With us were Mayen Tan, to whom we constantly deferred on matters pertaining to table manners, Ed Limtingco, Joefel Banzon, who kept shivering from the aircon, Debbie Duraliza, and Quennie (that's how it is spelled) Bronce.

To my right was my wife Arlene, and to my left the food guru (kuno) Dr. Nestor Alonzo. I say "kuno" to qualify Doc Nestor when it comes to food because in the few conversations I have had with him, we never talk food. We talk music, especially Beatles music, a tireless topic.

I distinctly remember that Bobit was carrying on about motorcycles and motorcycle racing, especially in the "old" days (complete with old photos uploaded into his phone), when suddenly the word "corduroy" popped up.

I could not recall now if it was Bobit who mentioned corduroy, or Ed Limtingco by his side. All I remember is that the mention of the word corduroy just yanked the conversation away from motorcycles straight to this type of fabric that was popular with pants in the 1960s.

And as always happens when anything about the Sixties is mentioned in a group that has Baby Boomers around, all conversation just flows right back to that great, incomparable decade and the generation blessed to have grown up and lived through it.

I have no formal definition of corduroy because all I have is the feeling in my heart, and two recent pairs that I wear with pride. But according to Wikipedia, it is a textile made up of twisted fibers that, when woven, lie parallel to one another to form a distinct cord pattern.

Corduroy, of course, could not match the popularity of blue jeans, the jazzed up version of which, incidentally, was the theme of our Christmas party. But it had a respectable kind of popularity back then, even if the fabric never elevated itself beyond casual wear.

Anyway, the mention of corduroy brought back memories of the Sixties, when clothing were still made-to-order. The popular tailors, or "tailorings" in Cebu at the time were Stag Clothes, Velayo's, Strassi. And you bought your fabrics from Executive House or Belvedere.

Mayen Tan, seized by a sudden recollection, waved a finger and asked what the most popular shirt was when RTWs were just starting to creep into fashion consciousness. She answered her own question: "Banlon!" Ahh yes, Banlon. It was to the Sixties what Lacoste would be today.

 Noticing how blank Quennie, Debbie, Joefel and Arlene were to the "sartorial elegance" of the Sixties, I tried to make light of what was fast becoming serious "old stuff." Did you know, I asked, that the Colon Street of our Sixties still had those spinning traffic signals?

At the junction of Colon and Osmeña Boulevard was a movable kiosk where a traffic cop stayed in the daytime, directing traffic by spinning crossed signboards painted green for go and red for stop. At night the kiosk was removed. There was no traffic, and the signs were invisible.

Because there was no orange sign for caution, the cop simply spun the signs continuously for a few seconds and then grab the handle at a specific moment to stop it and flash the desired color at a specific direction. It was amazing how he seemed to get it all the time.

The party was one of the liveliest and merriest The FREEMAN had in years. And it was made even happier by the memories that flowed at our table. The younger set with us did not care about the conversation, though. Their attention seemed too preoccupied with the fine food.

 As to corduroy, I am happy to report it is still very much around. I recently bought two pairs of corduroy Wranglers. I asked the sales clerk if they were doing well. She said not really like hotcakes but selling well enough for them to be in constant inventory.