Cutarras vs NIKE

I very much fear that, with the imposition of Market Globalization, they will finish globalizing our (already quite globalized) tendency to dress and—in general—to behave according to imported canons. I confess I have never understood why most young Panamanians prefer a “Major League” cap to a sombrero pinta’o1 (the hats are much finer and more valuable, by the way). Or why they prefer an NBA jersey to a loose shirt of manta sucia2 or a camisilla3 from Tonosí. Or why they prefer to wear sneakers instead of a pair of cutarras4. Cutarras are cooler. Cutarras are cheaper. And above all: cutarras are ours!

Sadly, some young people—besides not wearing what is national—look down on those of us who do wear it. Many times I have felt on the back of my neck the blow of the puzzled and scornful looks of the people who (in stores, in the street or in institutions) see me arrive in my cutarras and my sombrero pintado. I am a stranger in my own land for dressing in what is traditional.

We must find a balance that lets us wear what is ours with pride. And never look down on something simply because it is Panamanian. Rather, give preference to what is national, and at the same time always make the most of the technology of the imported products that make our lives easier. Not to do so would be foolish, just as it would be if we forgot our roots.

To exercise, I need stability and cushioning: that is why I wear sneakers. But my cutarras are what I wear to come to class. My friend Yeyo made them, a year before he died, and they are now more than 5 years old.

Soon I will buy myself a sombrero pintado (I lost the last one), and I will wear it often, as a love poem to my homeland, as a flag of freedom, as a hymn of rebellion against the foreign imposition of a fashion and of ideals that are not ours. And I will stroll down this very hallway, proudly, with it on my head.