Psychedelic Neckties

Amirasolo and Other Essays

Part 1. Tondo on my Mind

Essay 9. PSYCHEDELIC NECKTIES

I don't know if today's boy students of UST High School still wear neckties as part of their uniform. We did in our time and were quite proud of it. I entered high school in 1969. My first necktie was thin and black, a real match for my straight-cut black pants.

Those times of the early 1970s was the tail-end of the hippie era, when bell-bottom pants, both printed and plain, were in vogue. But we were still boys when we were in first year, that's why we weren't concerned much with being 'in' with the trend. We were contented with our thin black pants.

But the succeeding years saw us gradually trying to emulate the dominant fashion of the time. What the hippies wore, we students would try our best to wear even if it didn't look good on us.

I guess that's what I liked most about the USTHS administration. They're quite lenient and considerate when it comes to what the boys wore. The official uniform of the boys was supposed to be white short or long-sleeved polo shirt, black or dark pants, and neckties, which I presumed should also be black or dark-colored, and either plain or striped. But we followed this rule less and less each year that we progressed in high school.

The patience of the school administration must have been pushed to the limit when we boys began showing up at school wearing bell-bottom pants of different colors, like orange, red, violet, yellow, and cream---and with patterns like vertical stripes and plaid. There was a shift too in necktie preference. The conservative thin and dark-colored or striped neckties gave way to broad neckties with psychedelic designs of different colors.

The length of the necktie was also of no matter anymore. We had a playful classmate who, to get attention and distinguish himself from us, wore his necktie very short. He wound the necktie knot so many times that the tip of it reached only down to just below his chest, not down to his waist as should be the case. That guy was Arnel de Guzman.

Arnel de Guzman was a sociologist. He succumbed to an illness many years ago. He  was active in NGO causes, particularly those involving migrant workers. I remember seeing him once being interviewed on tv.

There are two things concerning Arnel I regret not doing. First was when I ignored his  invitation, in a letter he sent me, for us to meet up and reminisce about the old times over bottles of beer. That was in 1987 when I was still working for Joe Burgos' We Forum Publications as editorial cartoonist.

I wrote at that time a letter to the editor of the Philippines Daily Inquirer commenting on a recent article by Manuel Quezon III. Arnel must have come across that letter and got my address from it. I don't remember exactly the reason why I chose not to see him. One reason must be the tight schedule I follow at that time. I didn't work mornings in the newspaper. I go to work beginning 4 pm and come home around 3 or 4 am. I spent much of the daylight hours sleeping. But the more plausible reason was my embarrassment at my poor financial position. I already had two kids at the time, but my salary was still just a little above minimum.

The second cause for regret concerned Arnel's book, "The Goddesses of the Lust Triangle". I first learned about the book from a review in the Philippine Daily Inquirer written by Rinna Jimenez-David, where she panned it for being quite explicit at times. The book is about  the research Arnel did on the lives and work of female dancers in beerhouses and other girlie bars in the South Triangle area.

I'm not exactly looking for that book, but one time I was at the National Bookstore, I saw a copy of it on sale. It was the only copy on display and could perhaps be the last---yet I decided against buying it. A mistake.

I googled that book weeks ago. Copies are still available and can be bought online. Unfortunately, the book has become pricey. It now sells for $32, or around 1600 pesos. Still beyond my purchasing capacity: much more so, in fact. Anyway, the National Bookstore or Powerbooks, or perhaps Bookmark's The Filipino Bookstore, may still have copies of it. I'll go and visit them one of these days to find that book.

Let's go back to neckties. I wrote earlier that I was proud that neckties were part of our uniform. Neckties separated us from other high-schoolers who don't wear neckties in school. That feeling of superiority lasted until one recess time when we were in fourth year.

Our room overlooked a sidewalk inside the campus going to the Dapitan Street entrance. University regulations regarding outsiders weren't strict and guards allowed even those without IDs to go inside the campus. What happened was this. A group of boys, who looked like outsiders because they were just wearing sandos and old t-shirts, passed by our room and saw a few of us gathered by the window.

One of them asked: "Bakit kayo nakakurbata? Mga waiter ba kayo? (Why are you wearing neckties? Are you waiters?)"

Although embarrassed, we still managed to laugh at that remark. That was the ultimate put-down. I know that that isn't a nice thing for me to say. It's so politically-incorrect. But I really felt then, immature that I was, that it was degrading for us to be confused with waiters. That was why  from that moment on, neckties lost their snobbish appeal to me.

(In the photo above, Arnel de Guzman is in top row, fourth from left. I am in the second row, fifth from left.)