Not my lola, but you get the idea.
While hanging out at Adarna Food and Culture a couple of weeks ago (one of the best Filipino restaurants in the city, by the way), a slambook encased in glass caught my attention. Amused by my reaction at the musty old pages, Chef Giney Villar explained, “Slambooks were your lola’s Facebook.”
Well, I’m old enough to have gone through a couple of slambooks/ autograph books in grade school. I remember obsessively reading the pages that my longtime crush filled out on my sister’s autograph book—unlike most guys, he actually filled it out in great detail despite not knowing who owned it (the dedication started with “Dear whoever you are.”) It was because of that The Little Mermaid autograph book that I knew his address, favorite food, favorite color, most embarrassing moments… ehem. Where was I?
Anyway, I eventually lost it because—I firmly still believe—a classmate of mine who also liked him stole it.
And no, he’s not on my Facebook. Last time I saw him was on Friendster several eons ago, and even then, I realized he was no longer the disarmingly cute boy I had an on-off crush on for about 10 years. (He was my busmate for a couple of years and always hung out at my all-girls’ school. I had a crush on him in the fourth grade and eventually asked him out to the prom. By then, he was in college. He said no. Yes, I was that pathetic).
Someday, I’ll go into greater detail when I feel like embarrassing myself even more. The funny thing is, it turns out he was the batchmate of my boyfriend in Ateneo, although J doesn’t know him at all.
But I digress. Some of the pages from the aforementioned slambook were posted on Adarna’s Facebook page, presumably so people could laugh at how dated the dedications are—and how. Check out these gems:
"If you will marry a man, don't marry a flirt. Marry a man who can wash his shirt. Just me, Ben." Sure, I'm all for that. I'm lousy at doing my own laundry, much less some dude's sweaty shirt.
You gotta hand it to them for painstakingly cutting out their photos and pasting them on slambooks (and no, it is NOT spelled as "slum books.")
"When a man raps at the door of your heart, say you are not in, and that's a perfect start. Just me, Patring" What on earth did these people have against relationships (or men?)
I also don’t know why “Just me” was such a popular sign off note. But hey, you really have to give it to them for all the hard work they put into those autograph books!
It was a time when men dressed to the nines and sat for photos without thinking it was gay.
Intricate artwork that was actually drawn by hand in glorious Technicolor! Check out the location: Isle of Hope, Hours of Joy.
(Day 20, 30-Day Blog Challenge)
This looks like a really interesting place!
Food’s really yummy. It’s just in Kalayaan
Sometimes I wish I could go back to this time, Sigh. I think men (and women) and the whole courtship process was much more romantic then. And I love how the men put in a lot of effort into their penmanships, too!
funny how the internet and facebook has changed our lives in a snap…I miss the time when I, myself owned a slumbook and had my classmates write onto it…