Veronica Baguio never meant to start a fashion brand. She was a psychology graduate, a teacher with a major in social sciences and a heart full of questions. But in 2020, in the thick of the pandemic, Balik Batik was born.
“I admire fashion designers. I have no background in fashion,” she said with a laugh. “But I know how to tell a story.”
Balik Batik began with one guiding principle: wear the story. She walked into the industry with a backpack and a notebook, traveling hours and hours from Zamboanga to Kalinga, Marawi to Panay to listen to weavers.
Some brands say support local. Veronica said collaborate deeply.
“We don’t call them ‘suppliers.’ We call them partners, co-creators,” she said. “If one of them says, ‘We need rice,’ then I make sure to buy from them,” Veronica shared, explaining that Balik Batik is a social enterprise that makes decisions not just purely based on business but also on paying it forward. “They don’t need us; we need them.”
The creative process behind crafting a Balik Batik piece happens in three ways: sometimes the weavers send finished products; other times, they send just the fabric, which Veronica and her team then transform into bomber jackets, denim outerwear or casual wear that makes Filipino native clothing more than just something worn during Buwan ng Wika.
In the third method, the Balik Batik team sends out ready-made garments like denim jackets for the weavers themselves to embellish and design. Every piece goes through a months-long process, slow, intentional and respectful.
Selling with a backstory
In Cebu, where Balik Batik first bloomed, selling heritage wear came with challenges. “They’d admire the jacket, then say, ‘But it’s so expensive,’” Veronica shared. “So I showed them a video of the weaver. Suddenly, their tone changes and they pay for it in full.”
To her, every product is a lesson and an entry point to a larger conversation. “Every time I post something on our social media, I teach,” she said. “Not just, ‘Hey, buy this!’ but, ‘Look — this is the fabric of the Yakan of Basilan and this is how they weave it.”
Veronica has slept and eaten in weavers’ homes, laughed with them under makeshift roofs. She’s asked tough questions — How much are you really earning from this? Are we paying enough?
In Zamboanga, she stayed in the homes of Yakan weavers, watching as they pulled stories through the warp and weft of their looms. She carries their words everywhere she goes. “There was one time I traveled nine hours from Makati City to Kalinga and climbed another mountain again. It’s easier to tell a story when you see their perspective and when you sit where they sit,” she shared.
She doesn’t have an itinerary when she visits weaving villages. She said to always travel with a local because that’s how you build a relationship with them and truly understand their craft.
Five years, countless stories
Some early pieces are no longer in production but clients are still wearing them proudly. Others have evolved. The brand has expanded to Manila, where Veronica now juggles her master’s degree and business meetings. More and more clients have also turned to friends.
To mark the milestone, Balik Batik returned to where it all began. On April 26, 2025, it hosted an anniversary pop-up at Atua Midtown Cebu, F. Manalo St., Cebu City.
There were freebies, discounted pieces and workshops. There was also a traditional weaving demonstration led by Adelaida Ilul Ahaddas, a celebrated Yakan musician and master weaver, who brought generations of knowledge to life through every thread.
Guests were also treated to a live performance by Cebuano Viva artist Jacques Stevens and a stirring Pansak dance by Adelaida. As the event drew to a close and Veronica prepared to fly back to Manila, the fifth anniversary was everything she had once envisioned Balik Batik to be. “What next for Balik Batik? I want to connect with more indigenous groups, listen to their stories and partner with them.” S