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Saturday, September 18, 2004
The green stuff
By Rene A. Lizada
Sometime ago while doing the grocery I chanced upon a product which made me stop and think on how old I really am. Pomade. If you have this puzzled look then you must be still young.
Before there was gel, before there was mousse, there was pomade, that stuff that you put in your hair to make it look shiny, slippery and rock hard. Yes Virginia, Maria and Isadora, there was that wonderful pomade called Tancho. And of course Beatles pomade.
The first thing you notice about the pomade is its color is its color. Green. Or at least in my time it was green. When you opened the container it looked like a frozen lake of hardened water lilies. It was also translucent that you could actually see your face peering into the ooze. You stare at it for a moment thinking what would it feel like if you thrust your fingers into it? Would your fingers break? Would you be like those persons in those old kung fu movies who jabbed their hands and fingers in heated cauldrons of sand? Would you scream like them? ( Why do they do that in the first place ba?)
As far as my 70's mind can remember Tancho was not soft nor hard, it was just gooey. Once you dig your fingers into the muck you realize that this was no ordinary stuff. In my time Tancho was imported directly from Japan, I do not know if that is still true. It felt like clay but it was clear. It had a distinct smell which for the life of me, I cannot recall now because the 70's seem like a century away or maybe because I am now in my midlife.
But the real test of pomade was not in its "feel" or smell but in the effect it had on one's hair.
Before there was gel, before there was mousse, there was pomade and its effect on the hair was almost Zen like. Because once you applied pomade, you would be changed forever, you would become a different man because only men were brave enough and yes dumb enough to wear pomade.
The ritual was you buried your fingers into the pomade. You buried them deep, usually using two fingers. Then you scoop the pomade out and plastered them on your palm and then rub it until your hands look like they have been spat with Godzilla saliva. Then you rub your hands together and then taraaaaaan, grease your hair with pomade. And grease is the right word for it because it feels like grease. But that is not the best part. The real wonderful thing about pomade is what it does to your hair.
The first effect is it makes you hard, no, no, it is not what you are thinking. It makes your hair go hard. And I mean really adamantine. Sa bisaya pa, gahi! Dili lang gahi, kanang pirteng gahi-a. If you were in a fight and had no weapons you could use your pomade styled hair for a deadly weapon. It could be a battering ram and your hair as the ram itself. God help those who get hit by your hardened hair. They would not only suffer bruises but they will have to suffer the shrapnels of your pomade made up hair. Pomade air was really hard.
But it was not only hard it was also slippery. If I remember it right there was this pomade ad wherein a woman would start touching the hair of the man who just applied pomade. (Why a woman would dare touch the hair is really beyond me.) And she would smile. (Perhaps thinking, this guy looks like an idiot!) And the guy would smile.( Perhaps thinking, hey pomade really works!) Pomade was so slippery that the real measure of it was if a fly accidentally landed on the hair, the fly would skid. (At least that was the joke at that time!) The slicker the hair, the better it was for the nincompoop wearing it.
And the final test of pomade was if it was shiny. The pomade that made your hair shine like the coming of the gods was the true test and measure of quality pomade. Sometimes you needed to wear Rayban glasses( kasi those were the "in" shades at that time!) just to share at all those idiots strutting around. Too bad someone did not think of using pomade as floor wax.
So finally the picture is complete. You had your clog shoes, your bell bottom pants with colossal belts, the shocking colored shirt with the deadly collars and then some beads hanging around your white neck (because of the turtle neck shirts!) and then of course to top it all your pomade hair. Ahh, the good old days seem so wonderful!
Before there was gel and mousse, there was the green stuff.
(September 18, 2004 issue)
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