The First-Timer's Guide to Bangkal Makati Thrift Shopping

(SPOT.ph) Pinoys love a segunda mano find. We celebrate the thrill of the thrift in our ukay-ukay OOTDs, proudly mix our contemporary pieces with our vintage hauls, rally behind designers who champion repurposed fashion. It’s almost ingrained in our culture to not only breathe new life into things that may have already reached the end of the line, we also like to boast about being the first to unearth a hidden gem. We ride the high of having acquired a special piece for years to come, sharing the story behind our find to friends, family, or anyone who would listen.

Bangkal in Makati City has long been synonymous with second hand goods. Its little shops and stalls have been a reliable go-to for interior designers and first-time home owners on the hunt for throwback furniture and affordable decor that today’s modern style sensibilities no longer cater to. But while it has been quiet for some years, social media has recently rediscovered the area, sparking renewed interest in a younger generation yearning for old things. If you're a Bangkal virgin and need a primer, you've come to the right place. Bangkal shopping may appear intimidating to first-timers, but we’re here to put those apprehensions to rest and assist you on your maiden trip to Makati’s thrift mecca.

We’ll preface this by saying that a day is not enough to fully uncover the wonders of Bangkal. You could try but speedrunning it would dim the sparkle of the district’s thrift culture. Besides, real thrift veterans develop their own scavenging systems after multiple visits and we’d want you to fully explore the place at your own pace and your own terms. Here’s hoping this guide emboldens the curious to go and that the first visit inspires a return trip.

The baratilyo happens only once a month—on the last Saturday of every month. Stalls and stores can open as early as 8 a.m. and close by 10 p.m., but it entirely depends on the owner’s or shopkeeper’s schedule. We arrive at 9 a.m. on a gloomy Saturday and while some are already set up to welcome shoppers, some stalls are still unboxing their haul of secondhand clothes and hanging them on racks. But it doesn't really matter if you come in the morning, at lunch, or in the afternoon—as long as you’re there during the correct Saturday, you should be good.

It wasn’t always a once-a-month arrangement for the baratilyo. What used to be a weekly fair has scaled back since the era of pandemic restrictions. But one who you could probably count on to be around most of the time is Wilfredo Reyes, Bangkal Thrift Market Association president. “Kailangan ko bantayan," he says of his store. "Gusto ko dumami yung walk-in buyer namin." Sir Wilfredo was elected to his position by supportive neighbors who had been running the streets of Bangkal much longer than he has. 

Back in the day, merchants could operate even without the baratilyo, but now most merchants wait for the monthly event. Recovery after the pandemic shutdown hasn’t been easy, but Bangkal’s custodians maintain the current schedule and are hopeful public interest increases.

“Dati kasi malakas, halos mapuno yung kalye namin,” recalls Sir Wilfredo as he wipes his forehead, sweaty not only from the morning's heat but from also manning the barbeque stall outside of his shop. Since Covid times taught people how to shop online, the crowd in Bangkal's streets have thinned, but a push for in-person visits never wavered. “Pinapupunta namin dito [yung customer]. Just in case na kunwari may pipickup-in sila samin, namamasyal na rin sila. Parang first time nilang pumunta dito, so nag-iikot na lang din sila. Yun yung target namin.”

Outsiders on the hunt for gold call it Bangkal, but seasoned thrifters and those who grew up in Makati know Bangkal to be more than just the monthly weekend market. Bangkal is an entire barangay in the city of Makati known for its antique furniture, yes, but also its automotive shops and, most recently, a growing coffee culture. The monthly market is actually called the baratilyo but folks have come to interchange it with any day Bangkal thrifting. They've come to mean the same thing. 

There is no one singular Bangkal store, shop, or street. A bulk of the sellers hold court along General Hizon and General Garcia, but the baratilyo lives and breathes at the leisure of the residents and staff, or “bantay,” so where they go, the shopping follows. But things are legit around here: the Bangkal Thrift Market Association has permits to keep this running, and the network of merchants and interconnected streets will lead you to the right places.

Perhaps a positive effect of the lockdowns is that the store owners, previously wary or couldn't be bothered with anything internet-related, had given the digital world a chance. They're now open to digital payments and sellers regularly send photos of their new stocks to customers via chat. But while plenty of merchants have gone online, not everything is in Viber chats and Facebook groups. The latest drops favor those who go in person, and it’s always better to assess an item’s quality up-close. Plus, there’s always the chance of falling in love with something you weren’t even looking for.

An affinity for narra continues to be a common thread among merchants; every store we pass by almost always carry furniture made of the sturdy wood. Members of the SPOT.ph team may have tastes that lean towards contemporary pieces, but in Bangkal we can't help but open vintage chests and drawers, and ask about those chairs that remind us of lunches with lolo and lola.

Doing a monthly shopping visit allows more time for fresh stock to accumulate, so there’s always more new stuff to look at every time. But more than getting to choose among a better and wider selection, going in person is also an opportunity to hear the stories behind a certain piece. Reyes, for example, as soon as he sees our team huddled around an old calculator, went on ahead and gave us its back story without being prompted.

Rain or shine, the merchants of the baratilyo power through. Scorching heat is the norm here, especially as the day nears noon, but most everyone on the street has enough muscle to haul furniture and clothing and random bits and bobs back under roofs should it start to rain.

Wear sunscreen and a hat for sunny days, and bring a jacket and an umbrella when you expect a drizzle or worse. Should you come less than prepared, you could take shelter under the tents or a store's entryway. The folks of Bangkal are kind and more than ready to welcome those hoping to stay dry–no purchase required.

As for clothing, dress comfy. Slide on reliable sneakers or sandals as there will be a lot of walking. For the dust-sensitive, bring masks, even gloves. Some of the merchandise here are older than you are, and some have been sitting in their corners for a long time that layers of dust now cover their once shiny parts. They're not grimy nor gross, but they can trigger sneezing fits.

The baratilyo carries treasures of every kind, from antique furniture and heirloom tableware to clothing of every size to pre-loved premium leather bags looking for a new lease on life. Think narra furniture with intricate carvings and Murano glass accents that would cost a fortune everywhere else. Think chandeliers straight out of ‘80s Filipino movie sets, the abacuses that walked so our smartphones can soar, and heaps of clothing and shoes.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the layout of the baratilyo. There's no narra zone or groupings for outdoor furniture. Design movements matter only to the informed buyer. But some merchants specialize in furniture or clothing, while others have light fixtures good for an entire building. What these stores have in common is they’ve all been here a while. 

“Mga 40 years na ako dito,” says Loreta Rosal, who sold our editor-in-chief a P500 brass bangle that went straight from her wrist to his.

One of Ma'am Loreta's buyers is Marie Calangian, an amiable lady who actually also mans a stall all the way in the other street. When asked how long she’s been working at the baratilyo, she says: “Thirty years mahigit.”

Meanwhile, Sir Wilfredo officially took over his lola’s buy and sell business in 2018, but has been helping around since 2004, bringing his total Bangkal experience to 22 years.

No two items are alike in Bangkal—or ever will be—so it’s best to listen to the heart when it signals "This is love at first sight." The next visit and the goods it carries are guaranteed to be different. It’s a blind box experience on a larger scale and the surprise delights every time.

Where do all these pre-loved pieces come from? “Karaniwan nakukuha namin sa mga nag-didispose ng mga gamit, tsaka yung naglilipat ng ibang place sa mga subdivision like Ayala Alabang, Novaliches, tapos sa may Malate. Tapos minsan tinatawagan din kami, may mga walk-in na nag-ooffer ng mga gamit na for disposal, so yun pinupuntahan namin siya mismo para makita yung actual na gamit, “ says Sir Wilfredo.

For shopkeeper Marie, who doesn’t source and keeps to her “bantay” duties, the latest offerings can come from anywhere. “Kung saan-saan. Sa Vigan, Pangasinan.”

Even the merchants themselves get excited about their haul for the month, so much so that when asked what's his favorite part of the baratilyo, Sir Wilfredo replies: “Maglabas ng gamit. Ipakita lahat ng hindi nakikita ng customer. Kasi usually sa labas na lang silang lahat tumitingin.” Another favorite activity is serving up barbecue for hungry shoppers and fellow merchants.

While practicing restraint can be wise, a customer who walks away from something he or she fancies could soon be daydreaming about that one brocade skirt that was just going for P200, that Swarovski figurine with a starting price of P1,000, or a handsome but broken typewriter long after the bantays have closed shop for the day. Don’t let that be you.

But really there's no harm in stepping away. Just that we wouldn’t want you mourning an item that’s probably already in the hands of a more decisive shopper. But if you're shopping with friends, the weight of regret is easier to brush off. You can talk it off on the ride home. One of us was thinking about one shiny Swarovski figurine until the very last minute, another was talking about a locket they should have gotten, and one of us wished they just haggled better for a bag instead of leaving it behind. 

Merchants are more than aware the average Bangkal buyer can’t haul a 500-pound wooden cabinet home or drop six digits like it’s spare change. Talk about payment and delivery. Most stores have bank transfer options and digital payments set up, along with the means to deliver should an antique’s next home be far from Makati.

Thrifting naturally implies that all the things are secondhand. It bears repetition; none of these items are new and it will be obvious.

Plenty of the furniture, decor, vintage implements are from old homes, estate sales, and collections of storied families leaving the Philippines for good. They’re products of an era that valued durable materials and masterful construction that can withstand the test of time, except the years have now weathered them down in ways that can no longer be masked. Expect scratches, dings, and rusty hinges. For the clothes, there might be discoloration, thinning at high-friction points, and small stains.

Still, these items will possess value in the eyes of the right buyer. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure after all, but a lot of digging is required. It’s inevitable that you may enter Bangkal with high hopes, only to find that nothing quite strikes your fancy.

Going to Bangkal with a plan of buying a specific item is not bad—just don’t expect to find it at the first store. Well, it could be but it might be all the way at the back. When a merchant extends an invite to enter their backroom or go upstairs, take the chance—no matter how disorganized the offerings may look. Newer stock that hasn’t been brought out is often reserved for the really interested buyers. Sometimes the more niche items that might be a difficult sell on the main street are hidden away in some upstairs corner.

Don’t be afraid to just enter, look around, and eventually walk away. As long you’re polite, they’ll extend the same courtesy back. 

That said, they might know of another merchant that may have what you’re looking for. After all, if they’re not entertaining customers, they themselves are chatting with the neighbors and even buying from other stalls. Prepare to meet new people, walk different streets, and explore more back rooms and second floors.

“Kung minsan, kapag meron gamit yung iba, kung gusto mo ibenta, pwede mo ipa-benta. Okay naman sa'kin yon. Lahat naman magkakakilala,” Sir Wilfriedo tells us, adding that there’s no competition among merchants.

Friendship amongst Bangkal folks power this highly specific and interconnected referral system. So much so that certain keepers gain nicknames and become "legends" in the community.

Ma'am Loreta, who we would later find sifting through goods from another stall, gives us her government name but makes a clarification when the cameras were no longer rolling. “Loreta ako, pero Loring ang tawag sa'kin dito. Dun na ako kilala,” she says. And everyone knows her here. Everyone knows everybody. After all, if they're not busy arranging and rearranging displays or talking to customers, everyone's chatting the day away like old friends. In this case, old friends bonded by a shared appreciation for found objects with past lives.

Photographs by Majoy Siason
Produced by Jerome Gomez
Cover design by Warren Espejo
Special thanks to Abigail Alvarado and Joseph Valenzuela