Thuck-Clack: The Rhythmic Rebellion Against Fast Fashion
“IF WE ARE TO PRESERVE CULTURE, WE MUST CONTINUE TO CREATE IT”
JOHAN HUIZINGA
In the mist-shrouded quiet of the Cordillera highlands, the morning air is often punctuated by a rhythmic, wooden thuck-clack. This isn’t the sound of a factory, it is the sound of a human body in motion. Here, the lannas, or backstrap loom, is an extension of the weaver herself. To create cloth, she must tether herself to a house post, her own waist becoming the anchor. Every inch of fabric is a physical dialogue—a constant tug-of-war where the weaver’s spine provides the tension and her rhythmic leaning allows the shuttle to fly.
In a generation where the roar of machinery has replaced the touch of the hand, the weavers of the highlands remain anchored to a sacred tradition. While a factory can churn out a thousand yards of fabric in an hour, a single tapis here may take weeks or even months to breathe into life. It is a slow, meditative labor performed with a depth of patience, love, and care that no machine can replicate. Each piece is not merely manufactured, it is professionally crafted, thread by agonizing thread, to ensure that every weave carries the weight of high quality and the soul of the mountains.
These handmade masterpieces are far more than mere garments, they are the woven pulse of Igorot pride. Every thread is a vessel for a story, and every pattern acts as a silent, sacred language. Within the disciplined rows of the weave, symbols like the inu-nuy (diamond) serve as the watchful eyes of ancestors, while the chaklag (lizard) honors the resilient life-force dwelling within the stone walls of the rice terraces. To wear these patterns is to wrap oneself in the collective memory of a mountain people. A hand-woven blanket here is a lifelong witness to the human journey, it provides the first warmth for a newborn, glows with the radiant pride of a bride, and, eventually, becomes the sacred shroud that carries an elder back to the embrace of the earth.
Ultimately, the survival of the backstrap loom is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. While “fast fashion” offers instant gratification, the weavers of Bauko offer a legacy. They remind us that the most beautiful things in life are those that require us to be present, to be patient, and to give a piece of ourselves to the craft. As long as the thuck-clack echoes through the mountain passes, the heartbeat of the Cordilleras remains steady—one row of crimson thread at a time.