In the group exhibition Raising The Colors of Creativity, Ilonggo abstract artist Al Provido showcases his powerful “Wag-Wag” Series, a collection of four mixed media paintings, each measuring 2 x 4 feet, that explore the complex culture of second-hand shopping in the Philippines, popularly known as “ukay-ukay.” Through this series, Al Provido highlights the social and cultural significance rooted in the wag-wag tradition.

The exhibition opened October 17, 2025 at Hulot Gallery of the Iloilo Museum of Contemporary Art and features the works of Mae Tamayo-Panes, Mike Moleta, Jazz Javier, JM Siva, Rheo Nepomuceno, and Kristoffer Panes.

In Baguio City’s bustling secondhand markets, Provido did not just find the economy of reselling discarded clothing as an interesting phenomenon; he also uncovered a cultural microcosm woven from color, class, and identity. The long-established ukay-ukay scene and the act of “wag-wag” (the shaking out of garments to inspect them before purchase) had, since the 1990s, become part of the city’s social fabric.

For Provido, the vibrant piles of clothing resembled a living kaleidoscope, reflecting the Philippine society’s cultural diversity and underlying class divisions. Beneath the fluorescent lights of Harrison and Sessions Roads in the Pines City, people from all walks of life, rich and poor, locals and even celebrities, momentarily mingled together showing dissolving social boundaries in a shared pursuit of value and style.

In Provido’s eyes, the rummage culture had evolved into a cultural ritual, making ukay-ukay an interesting subject of class, identity, consumerism, and the Filipino spirit of resourcefulness into art. Through this lens, Provido portrayed the thrift market not just as commerce, but as a patchwork narrative of social realities, translating them in four canvases as an introductory discussion for a more extensive collection in the future.

Through his Wag-Wag 1-4 series, Provido explores how second-hand goods serve as powerful social markers, inviting viewers to reconsider the meanings embedded in discarded textiles and challenges conventional notions of value and status within Filipino society.

Ukay-ukay stores have become a familiar and enduring presence across urban centers and provincial towns. In Iloilo, for instance, secondhand clothing thrives both in digital marketplaces and physical spaces, from the sprawling outdoor markets in Leganes town plaza to indoor commercial hubs like Marymart Mall and GT Mall Pavia. These spaces offer more than just affordable fashion; they provide access, choice, and a sense of agency to a wide range of consumers.

Yet beyond their commercial role, “ukay-ukay shops serve as dynamic cultural spaces where narratives of necessity, identity, and aspiration intersect,” Provido observed.

For many Filipinos from middle to lower-income backgrounds, shopping secondhand is not simply about being “kuripot”or “matipid” (thrifty or frugal); it also reflects economic realities, cultural and personal expression, environmental awareness, sustainability, and alternative approaches to fashion.

In this context, class concerns give way to values centered on individuality, cultural capital, and the thrill of discovery.

Provido explores these themes through a vertical canvas divided into two contrasting horizontal planes—an allegory of broader social realities, reflecting social stratification, economic disparity, and shifting class structures. The arrangement alludes to a social hierarchy represented by a tatsulok (triangle), a figurative expression of the pyramid-like structure of society with a wealthy few lording over the impoverished majority, highlighting the stigma attached to ukay-ukay as an indicator of poverty.

The upper portion is alive with textural complexity and a spectrum of hues, suggesting movement, depth, and emotional richness. Layers of color interweave into an almost tactile surface, drawing the viewer’s eye into a field of visual energy—Provido’s imprint from observations and experiences of wag-wag culture as a fine arts student and traveler in Baguio City.

In stark contrast, the lower portion is rendered as a wide, flat field in earthy tones, offering a sense of calm, stillness, or grounding, especially when viewed from different angles, perspectives, and lighting.

This deliberate contrast between the textured vibrancy above and the minimalism below creates a subtle visual tension, evoking the persistent reality of class division, one that is either momentarily dissolved or brought into sharper focus within the ukay-ukay setting.

From a distance, the paintings resemble a field of matchsticks: slender, upright forms clustered together, their tips darkened as if recently ignited. This visual impression shifts as the viewer approaches closer to the canvas, revealing abstracted forms that hint at discarded textiles, charred fragments, or vertical stacks of waste. The matchstick-like appearance is no coincidence, it conjures the reality of how secondhand or surplus clothing, particularly unsold or unusable ukay-ukay items, are often disposed of through open burning.

The repetition and arrangement of these forms suggest both accumulation and erasure in a cycle of excess, neglect, and destruction. In referencing fire through form rather than flame, the work implies environmental degradation, systemic wastefulness, and the unseen consequences of mass consumption. The matches, standing like silent witnesses or unlit warnings, become a metaphor for disposability, not just of materials, but of labor, culture, and memory ingrained in these garments.

In many ukay-ukay hubs, especially in urban outskirts or provinces, open burning is seen as a fast, space-saving solution despite its environmental impact.

Al Provido’s nuanced approach compellingly illuminates the intricate class dynamics, environmental concerns, and cultural significance entrenched in the Filipino ukay-ukay tradition. His balanced portrayal, which neither romanticizes nor stigmatizes secondhand shopping, reveals its multifaceted role as a social marker shaped by necessity, creativity, and systemic inequality.

Through striking contrasts in form, color, and composition, Al Provido not only reflects the visible realities of class and consumption, but also confronts the unseen costs of disposability: the erasure of labor, memory, and identity through cycles of excess and waste. In capturing the layered textures of wag-wag culture and the haunting image of garments reduced to ash, his work transcends aesthetic value and emerges as a powerful visual reckoning with the enduring consequences of inequality and the resilience that persists in its shadow.