Heritage refers to all those values, skills and practices that make a people unique, In the global market, heritage can create a comparative advantage for Filipino-made products. Proof are the success stories of Filipino products which reinterpret local heritage within a contemporary, cosmopolitan context, and which sell at upscale prices internationally.

Examples can be drawn from furniture and fashion.

Generally Filipinos export furniture sets to stores abroad under their buyer’s brand. Stories abound of middlemen refusing to affix "Made in the Philippines" for fear of tarnishing the products’ glamour. But there are exceptions. Designers, like Ched Berenguer-Topacio and those of Movement 8 sell their furniture in retail outlets under their own brands and with the Philippines as their origin.

In the late 1970s Ched Berenguer and her late husband, Hector Topacio, opened a showroom in California and sold rattan furniture with a difference. Using metal, they designed a long reclining chair with a narrow hand-beaten iron body and a woven rattan wrap. Forged metal rods supported its weight. The rattan wrap was so thin and light that it looked like thick paper that had been folded and opened. It seemed to hang in midair. They called this the "Petal Chair" and designed furniture to go with it.

The long chair won first place in the Roscoe Awards for Furniture Design in New York in 1988. Ched says that "Made in the Philippines" posed no problem when her products were marketed by her distributors in the US and Europe. In 2000, the French government acquired a Petal Collection for permanent inclusion in Paris’ famed museum of decorative arts.

A year earlier, a Filipino design consortium, calling itself "Movement 8," delighted the international public at the furniture show in Valencia, Spain, with its innovations. It used the staples of contemporary furniture -- metals, leather, and glass. But it boldly mixed these with indigenous materials -- fine-grained wood, bamboo, abaca twine, rattan fibers, volcanic rocks, and shells. Wrote Patricia Dane Rogers of The Washington Post admiringly, "Filipino designers are using the wealth of traditional, indigenous materials they always have to make urbane, up-scale, high-end furniture in innovative and modernist designs."

Composed of independent designers, Movement 8’s guru is Budji Layug, the renowned designer. He showcases products by his colleagues at his Makati showroom and at his Web site. Budji’s confidence about Filipino marketability stems from his own experience selling furniture and furnishings internationally under his own brand since 1984. His philosophy? "We need to think globally, but not lose ourselves. You need to know your own identity first before you can go global." This means studying and appreciating traditional craft skills while giving them a new twist.

Bamboo is one of Layug’s favorite materials. In making four-poster beds of bamboo, he boldly paints the wide and uneven posters a glossy ebony. The stunning result is a bed that feels grand yet comforting, rustic yet urbane. Other designers in the team, like Kenneth Cobonpue, update traditional Filipino design qualities, such as our fondness for transparency. Our sinamay, piña, and loosely woven rattan seats keep the body cool in a warm climate; our food baskets with their widely spaced weaves allow the air to circulate. In Cobonpue’s sofas, comfortable cushions are cradled by a steel frame wrapped with rattan splints, abaca twine, or other materials. The frame may be connected together by widely spaced handwoven buri and abaca ropes. Varying in shape -- a boxy sofa, an open oyster shell, or a rounded, sloping croissant -- the airy and open-work frame makes the plump cushions defy gravity.

The cooperation between designers and artisans in Movement 8 results in amazingly supple woven forms. Sea grass and rattan weaves can follow the contour of a curving chair with a flaring back. The precision is impressive.

Our fashion industry could have been a major player, as in developed countries. During the optimistic 1960s, the Philippines sent fashion shows to world fairs. Unfortunately, because of erratic standards, textile manufacturers could not assure couturiers of quality cloth. Thus while couturiers, like Pitoy Moreno, dressed international celebrities, the industry remained small and had a limited image abroad. Fortunately this is changing. Fashion designers, like Cora Jacob, Bea Valdes, Rafe Totengco or Tina Ocampo, now export abroad under their own labels, and are winning recognition for the country.

For instance, "Bea Valdes" is a line of bags for galas. Made of silk, satin, and leather, the bags are pouches decorated with glass beads and crystal stones that are sewn by hand in intricate patterns. Some bags even quiver with plumes. Colors can be deep amethyst or crimson, a pale jade-green or lemon. In 2004, Bea Valdes exported to New York and impressed the editors of Vogue. She now sells to boutiques worldwide with a "Made in the Philippines" label.

What is the connection to Filipino heritage? These bags use traditional embroidery techniques. Indeed Bea’s workers began as piña embroiderers. When that business slowed down, they shifted to the factories. But Bea rescued them and gave them space for their skills. "In this age where faster and faster and faster is the norm," muses Bea, "I think it’s nice for us to be able to capitalize on things done slowly and with care."

Paradoxically, this slowness gives her products a competitive edge in the global market. "It’s a luxury brand, people say, but the real luxury about it is the time it takes to make something: One piece takes anywhere from two to six weeks to finish." Also a luxury in an age of assembly lines is that the workers can be proud of something they have nurtured from start to finish.

When we think of global competitiveness, we usually associate this with assembling microchips or with call centers. But creative industries where Filipinos continue to use traditional skills in new and enjoyable ways can also be global players. They offer opportunities to shift to a high-end niche where workers can be better compensated. Thanks to Filipino ingenuity, heritage does pay.

Dr. Fernando Nakpil-Zialcita heads the Cultural Heritage Studies Program at the Ateneo de Manila University’s Department of Sociology and Anthropology.

The essays in this column are taken from the Agenda for Hope books, the Ateneo de Manila University Loyola Schools’ scholarly work contribution to national development on the occasion of the Ateneo’s Sesquicentennial. More information on the books can be obtained at http://www.ateneopress.org and at 426-6001 local 5000-5006.