Traditional crafts that are passed on till today were typically embraced and treasured by people, but there is one particular craft that is highly controversial and that is the Kingfisher feather inlay craft, also known as the Dian Cui （点翠） craft.
Most of the pictures on the internet make the jewelry and feathers look extra big, for the purpose of allowing us to see the details of it, but if you have seen an actual Dian Cui piece in person, you would realise that it is actually surprisingly small. This is due to the fact that the Kingfishers are tiny in stature, and their feathers are even tinier, so to inlay them into filigree-based jewelries, you would require quite a lot of the feathers so traditionally they wouldn’t be too big.
Whenever I think of feathers and accessories, I always think of the Native Americans and their sacred headdresses and feather dance. And just like the Native Americans, the Chinese also had a long history of using feathers to accessorise ourselves and for ceremonial dances. There were records of dances that existed some 3,000 years back where they used feathers as props and also for wearing by the dancers.
The use of feathers for shamanistic rituals would have been common in the ancient worlds, and in a particular ancient Chinese culture called the Chu culture (modern day Hunan and Hubei—central China area), there were records of people decorating their wooden jewelry boxes with kingfisher feathers (and flowers, pearls, and jade) about 2,200 years back.
Gradually, about 2,000 years ago, imperial women started to have kingfisher feathers to decorate their walls (yes, what a luxury!), and a few hundred years later, a crown prince used it to decorate his crown. So it was not confined to just jewelry, and it was not just for women.
The earliest visual documentation that I can find, of kingfisher feather being used for accessories by the Chinese, would be the Song dynasty (circa 12th century) Empress in their formal ceremonial wear with their crowns decorated by kingfisher feathers, pearls and other gemstones.
A Chinese period drama in recent years replicated the ceremonial wear for the Song empress, and you can see a more tangible representation of it here:
Of course you could say that you can’t tell much from just a painting, and it could very well be embroidered or silk threads since we have not found any physical proof of it yet. That is definitely a possibility except that the Kingfisher feather industry was a thriving one that was widely documented, and that imperial women were often spotted wearing dresses of kingfisher feathers, or accessories with them to the chagrin of the emperors. Several times during the 12th century, the emperors tried to ban the use of kingfisher feathers precisely for the reason that they found it an unnecessary extravagance that harms the ecosystem, to no avail.
The iridescence and brilliance of the kingfisher feather is seen as unparalleled by any other bird, so there was no way of replacing it with other alternatives.
By the Qing dynasty, the kingfisher feather was everywhere in the accessories of the imperial family. From hairpins to hats, they were lavishly decorated with kingfisher feathers of different shades of blues.
The high demand for kingfisher feathers also meant that more kingfishers have to be killed for it, and eventually it became unsustainable. By the turn of the 20th century, the Chinese were already very familiar with the Cloisonné craft brought in from the west or the Islamic world, and for the commoners, they would use blue and green cloisonné craft on their silver or copper jewelries to create a semblance of kingfisher feather inlay decorated ones.
The last kingfisher factory in China closed in 1933 due to political instability within China and other socio-economic factors.
The Kingfisher feather craft has a bad reputation in recent years because of the rumour that the feathers had to be plucked from birds that were alive, and it was a torturous and slow death for the kingfishers. However, that is a myth. Historically, there were indeed records of plucking the feathers from kingfishers while they were alive, but it was taken out of context. The record mentioned that a few feathers were plucked form the kingfishers and then, the birds were released into the wild. So it implied that the birds were not killed in the process. However, I’m sure that as demands surge, it would be much faster for people to just catch and kill those birds for their feathers, and much more profitable that way.
As part of Yaji Masterclass, we are also going to have an introductory workshop on this traditional jewelry decorating craft using peacock feathers in place of kingfisher so no bird would be harmed in the process. The peacock feather has a really beautiful iridescence to it that changes with light. Since butterflies also have that kind of feathers, I thought it’d be apt to get everyone attending the masterclass to make a pair of butterfly earrings with this technique!
I will also be sharing more about the technical details of this craft, and stories of how famous traditional Chinese Opera singers would own an entire headdress of kingfisher feathers of the finest quality, and one that would cost you a fortune.
If you’re interested to learn this craft with us on the 24 Sep 2022 (Sat), you can get a ticket HERE. Your ticket comes with all that you need for this craft, and you can bring the tools home to make more of your own accessories with feather inlays!
-Some Song dynasty (10th-13th century) literati/ courtesan who adapted Kelis’ Milkshake lyrics
You know, this is actually a believable line in ancient Song dynasty (10th to 13th century) when it comes to tea, shaken (not stirred). And there is a 50-50 chance of it being sung by a Song courtesan, or narrated by a Song literati.
You’re probably thinking, why would anyone want to shake a cuppa tea? And why would it be sung or talked about by a Courtesan or Literati? Isn’t it just, tea?
So I would have to bring you to about a thousand years ago.. and introduce you to the wonderful world of Tea Battles where one’s brilliance is not measured by how big your muscles were, but swiftly they can help you move. In particular, your wrist. I will talk about that more soon.
THE TEASHAKE THAT BRINGS ALL THE BOYS TO THE YARD
But first, here’s the entire process of tea preparation from breaking it down to smaller tea leave bits, to whisking it (that’s where the wrist part comes in, and is also one of the highlights):
You see, people of that period were drinking powdered tea, pretty much like the Japanese matcha that you are familiar with. The Japanese matcha was a continuation of that Chinese tradition, in fact, while the Chinese have long lost it although efforts have been made in recent decades to revive it with reasonable success.
An iconic Intangible Cultural Heritage tea practitioner of China who has been reviving this art for over 40 years said they looked to Japanese whisked tea practice and cross referenced with historical Chinese texts to understand and deduce how it might have been done in the past. How the Japanese have retained so much of ancient/medieval Chinese cultural practices is fascinating, and almost like how Chinese diasporas so faithfully tried to preserve their heritage after they have left China. Of course that being said, the Japanese definitely injected their own life and philosophies into whatever they brought over from China, and it became part of their very own, unique identity.
Kenny whisking up a storm in a teacup
A good cup of tea, to the Chinese of Song dynasty, would be leaves from Fujian Jian’an region, plucked in the earliest part of Spring sometime in March (today, we generally thought of tea leaves from the middle of Spring in April as the best). Of course, there were specificities by the Song Imperial family on how exactly the tea leaf should look like—an eagle’s claw (lol, good luck figuring that out!)—and with a tiny bit of pale green (not green yet).
And this is the part where the tea gets shaken…really badly until it froths up like that hard peak when you beat your egg white for baking really fluffy cakes. Except that you use machine, and the Song people used their bare hands and a bamboo brush, sometimes with just a silver spoon (this is torture I tell you…).
Kenny still whisking away.
And this is also the part where the flexibility and tenacity of your wrist muscle comes in…
If you can whisk some bubbles up, you have failed.
If you can whisk some foam up, you have barely passed.
If you can whisk thick foam up but it has some large bubbles, you probably can get a C grade.
If you can whisk thick foam with extremely smooth texture (like no visible bubbles), you can probably get a B grade.
The ideal state would be like the consistency of wax… so the most modern connection I can make would be whipping the egg whites till it has a hard peak for baking. Yes, those of us who bake knows how long it takes for a machine to do that, try doing with your hands….
If you can whisk thick foam that’s like the texture of wax and can last like 20 minutes without dissipating into the bowl of tea and can retain its thickness and texture when poured out well enough that you can even paint stuff on it with water or powder (phew that’s a super long sentence), then you can get an A.
But wait, as Asians, an A is hardly enough. You need Full Marks. So that means you need to ensure that your water temperature is right, and that in the entire process, you add 7 times water (no more, no less, you can’t shortcut this) with a specific type of water pitcher into a specific type of black glazed Chinese ceramic teabowl (click on link to see the Met Museum collection). This is observed and theorised in a book by the Song emperor Hui Zong, one of the most artistically acclaimed emperors in Chinese history with an exquisite taste and eye for great details.
THE DIFFERENT BOYS WHO ARE BROUGHT TO THE YARD
The middle class commoners
Song Dynasty was a period of great commercialisation and capitalism and the general middle class population were relatively more educated with a great appreciation for the finer quality of life. They were generally quite wealthy, and definitely enjoyed good shopping and parties. They started the first Night Market in Chinese history which operated till about 1am, and they take a break for 2 hours and reopens at around 3am. Even our nightclubs today doesn’t have that kind of vitality! So yes, the boys (and girls) were often out in their yard partying and getting high on tea (amongst other things, like booze but that’s a different topic for a different day).
Based on paintings from that period, it was also a period that greatly celebrated the middle class commoners and their lifestyles. Whereas periods before were much more of aristocratic-focused society.
Market competition in a Tea Garden by top Song dynasty painter Liu Song Nian 刘松年《茗园赌市图》
The Literati, the Emperor and all his men
Song emperor Hui Zong was one of the most highly acclaimed artist-emperor of all times. He was a tea aficionado and as mentioned earlier, wrote his own theory about tea with great detail in a book called Treatise on Tea.
During the Song dynasty, literati and poets were often at the core of its political realm, philosophising and discussing state politics with the emperor thus further blurring the lines between arts and politics.
Detail of a painting by the famously tasteful Song emperor Song Hui Zong on a social gathering with tea served 宋徽宗《文会图》
Monks
Definitely Zen Buddhist monks were one of the pioneers in pure tea drinking culture as it helped them with focus and meditation. It started earlier than Song in the Tang monasteries and there was a famous monk who could whisk tea so beautifully that for each bowl of tea he whisked, he could write a stanza of poem on the froths and together they formed a poem.
Full marks might be the gold standard for Asian moms, but this is like an A+ student who also got top achievement in the arts. Bragging rights for sure.
Drinking Ground Tea by Liu Song Nian of Song dynasty 刘松年《撵茶图》
Later on, the Japanese buddhist monks who went to China to study Zen Buddhism arrived at Mount Tian Mu in Zhejiang and also tea. They brought back the black Jian Ware ceramic teabowl to Japan thinking that it came from the Tian Mu mountains in Zhejiang, and gave it the name Tenmoku. This type of tea bowl became so highly regarded and ceremonial that you required to take courses on it and become certified before you can serve people in this teabowl. But that is another way that the Japanese government and system protects its traditional craftsmanship and ensure continuous patronage and a healthy ecosystem of funding for its arts, cos in Chinese, even I can own one and serve you tea though I know next to nothing about preparing them.
Coffee, Tea and Art
I mentioned earlier the monk who could write poems on tea froths. You probably are thinking about the similarity of that and Latte Art that was in vogue a while back?
So this is similar except with tea, and done 1,000 years before.
I asked Kenny and he said there were two ways of doing it, either with clear water like this:
So the water would dilute the coloured froths and lightening it. So you either pour, drip or paint with plain water to reveal the artwork you’ve painted.
so now you ask, I thought the best froths were supposed to be white and thick like wax, so how does white show on white? Can it get any whiter? I’m sorry this sounds racist but I assure you this is just about tea art and froth.
So there is apparently another method that Kenny shared—it was using tea powder, and sometimes you mix with some water to form a paste-like ‘tea paint’ to be painted over the white froth.
Some said that the Green Matcha is more Japanese and the White one is more Chinese. But Kenny clarified that both types existed in the Song dynasty and they gave them very poetic names—Jade Froth for the white one, and Emerald/Kingfisher Froth for the green one. Yes, Jade were often associated with white nephrite jade for the ancient Chinese (though there were red, green and other coloured jade as well but white was deemed desirable for gentlemen). The Green Jadeite that we often associate with ‘traditional Chinese jade’ is actually relatively much modern, in the last 100-200 years or so, and it is not Chinese but Burmese in origin.
So… Here’s the part that is the whole point of my article..
So if you don’t already know, we’re running a Yaji event which historically would be a social gathering of literati friends who engage in a range of artforms and with knowledge exchanges and discussions. The inaugural edition, we’re basing it on the Song dynasty and the Autumn theme.
One of the highlight workshop is a Song dynasty reconstruction tea workshop by Kenny Leong, a private tea practitioner who mainly hosted corporate guests like banks and luxury brands (you can read more in his bio). So I’ve known Kenny for a while now, and I’m always rather wary of extremely commercialised practitioners of traditional craft because I feel that if most of the times, traditions were just a fancy costume party while money making is the real deal for them. So I was relieved to know that Kenny is not one of those unscrupulous jade sellers or fengshui masters in Chinatown (you know that type..), and like me, we have a full time job so that our passion can be as pure and not tainted by commercial interests.
As part of this workshop, you can also opt to get your own Song dynasty tea kit set as in the photo below (completed with grounded tea powder) and whisk in your own leisure time at home:
The tea towel is based on an actual painting of auspicious cranes by the Song emperor Hui Zong whom I’ve mentioned several times in this article on his love for tea.
Because I themed it to be Autumn/Fall, I’ve also added some finer touches to the Song tea set to include a touch of season—A polished shell cut and engraved into the shape of a gingko leaf.
The whisk in the set is a Japanese chanoyu style of tea whisk, while the original one from Song would most likely be closer to an Okinawaian Bukubuku Tea
You probably would associate the gingko leaf with the Japanese culture more, but the gingko is actually native to China although the Chinese term we use today were based on Japanese and Korean words for it when Gingko was introduced to these two places from China.
There are still Gingko trees of 1500 years old in China, believed to be planted by Buddhist monks in their monasteries as it was believed to be a holy tree.
The most viral one has to be this 1,400 year old one in Zhongnan Mountain in a Buddhist temple. Like the article said, it is definitely a perfect celebration of Autumn:
In case you would like to celebrate Autumn in Song style with us, we have a whole afternoon of activities lined up for you on 24 September, Saturday at the Stamford Arts Centre.
Traditionally, the elegant gathering would’ve been by invitation only amongst a close group of friends who shared similar taste in the arts or worldview. We are adapting the idea of it into a more public affair to open up to those whom we might not know personally, but would like to be part of this interpretive experience on ancient culture and arts.
This is our invitation to you, and you can get your tickets HERE or click on the image to access the ticketing site:
We are selling early bird tickets now until 24 August, and it is definitely a very worthy deal to purchase your tickets now!
While most of us associate the Chinese dragon with men, the idea of a Dragon Lady was very popular in the West in the 30s. To the West, Asian women were dangerous, domineering, mysterious but sexually alluring at the same time, and countless films and pop culture references played on that stereotypical idea of an Asian woman. To be fair, the women of the West weren’t spared of the femme fatale stereotype either so I think it is fundamentally a female objectification issue, and in the context of America at the turn of the last century, it was complicated by racism.
The Original Chinese Dragon Lady
But the Western men were not alone in their vile objectification of women, or Chinese women. The Chinese men, too, had lots of tales of female spirits who “tempted” men and filled them with lusts. The most poignant one, personally, was the case of the Investiture of the Gods, a 16th century Chinese novel.
Image of Anna May Wong, a famous Chinese American actress in Hollywood in the 30s who was seen as the archetype of Dragon Lady on screen. Also, her biopic is in the making starred by Gemma Chan from Crazy Rich Asians.
In it, the creator of mankind, a goddess called Nüwa, was the main culprit of the downfall of the Shang dynasty (an ancient empire some 3,000 years ago). The story goes that the last king of Shang dynasty saw her sculpture at the temple, and was sexually attracted to her. He wrote poems expressing his lust and spoke of marrying the goddess. Upset by his blasphemy, the goddess brought down 3 nymphs (spirits disguised as beautiful women) to seduce him, causing him to neglect his nation and became cruel to his people and eventually the downfall of his empire.
Sounds about right for the idea of a “Dragon Lady” huh?
Except that this was a very problematic portrayal by the then extremely patriarchal Chinese society, of the goddess of creation who was an important female figure when Chinese society was still matriarchal.
The Chinese society (like many others) started as a matriarchal one which meant that kids would only know who their mothers were, and not their fathers. Thus Nüwa exemplified that far ancient part of Chinese when women ruled together as a community. It was only when the Chinese society slowly transited into a patriarchal one that a male creator Fuxi came into existence and they both came to be known as the creators of mankind.
In fact, Nüwa had a different name back then, it was Nüxi or Xihe (Xihe was also known as the Guardian of Sun and Moon way back, and she eventually was split into The Mother of 10 Suns and Chang-E The Goddess of Moon. I did a reinterpretation of her in my Sailormoon Series). She was said to have created mankind from the soil due to her extreme boredom of being alone on earth, which is a further evidence that there was no male figure at the very start. Also, it was believed that primitive societies did not associate sex with birth-giving, so they did not think that men were necessary in the birth of a child, while women could give birth to both genders.
Interestingly, like the story of Adam and Eve, snakes were involved in this creation myth. And like many civilisations such as the pre-Classical Greek, snakes were often associated with the female goddess/creators. Fun fact: China formed a matriarchal society some 40,000-50,000 years ago and Greek slightly later, and China transited into patriarchal some 3,000 years earlier than the Greeks. During my research I came across this book in which the author said there is no culture where paternity was ignored in prehistoric times, I think she didn’t study Chinese texts because there were many mentions when paternity was ignored including the birth of the ancient ruler of Shang dynasty being a result of his mom swallowing the egg of a black bird.
Painting from Western Han (3rd century BCE) with Fuxi the male god holding the Sun and Nüwa the female goddess holding the Moon.Eastern Han (1st century CE) wall engraving with Fuxi holding a tool to draw square, and Nüwa holding a tool to draw circleTang Dynasty painting from Astana graves (8th century) with Fuxi holding a tool to draw square, and Nüwa holding a tool to draw circle
After transiting into patriarchal society, subsequent Chinese artworks/records depicted the male and female creators as having the body of a snake. Now snake has been an important and highly regarded creature in ancient societies, and was present as a totem across civilisations. A far cry from its villain identity today.
The dragon, seen as the ultimate symbol of the Chinese ruler, was based primarily on the body of a snake (with many accessorising features from other animals such as the deer’s antlers, bull’s nose, Eagle’s claws, Tiger’s palms etc.). While some ancient Chinese tribes saw themselves as descendants of a bird, others saw their ancestors as snakes, and it is for this reason, the creator of mankind were depicted as snakes.
The modern Dragon with her snake body, eagle claws, beatle shell eyebrows, gill-like ears, and antler-inspired hair and accessories.
This styling was designed in collaboration with Aaron Han (@aharw) assisted by gabby @ga.bae.be Makeup assisted by Danny @chenlingx0 with Jamie as model Photo by Aaron and I
Symbolism of an Emerald Dragon
Yes, I call it Emerald, although prevalent sources translated it as Azure because of the context of its name.
Languages and words take on the meaning of the context, and in this case, the Emerald Dragon represented the regeneration of life in Spring. While the word Qing 青 could refer to blue and green (as in the case of the same character ‘aoi’ 青い in Japanese) in Chinese culture and at times even Black, it would make sense that the Qing Long would be green like the colours of Spring leaves. The ancient people saw colours quite differently from us today, which probably explains why humanity didn’t have separate words for green and blue way back.
The emerald dragon’s boots is a reference to its green/blue scales of the snake. A Tang period hairstyle to exaggerate the shape of the head to look like a dragon. An a vintage Gucci green jacket to signify the luxury and royalty of the dragon as an auspicious animal.
The Emerald Dragon represents Spring, when flowers bloom and butterflies flock from one bush to another. This costume from the Legend of Miyue is obviously a copy of the Japanese dress, which I will go into detail another time.
Japan and China
The East, where the Sun rises, is also associated with the Emerald Dragon. And of course, the land of the rising sun in our modern memory, also refers to Japan. So I’m going to share w a few funny stories about Sino-Japanese historical relations, and muse over how the Chinese inverse-appropriates the Japanese culture these days.
One of the most hilarious accounts I’ve read about Japan and China relations was one that happened in 607CE. The Japanese diplomat of Asuka period Japan Ono no Imoko presented a letter from the Japanese female emperor (Yes, it was a female emperor!) to the Sui dynasty emperor with the following line:
日出处天子，致书日没处天子，无恙
Greetings, from Son of Heaven where the Sun rose, to Son of Heaven where the Sun set.
Clearly I was bored and wanted to try a few different renditions with different mood for this portrait. Which is your favourite?
Now, I don’t know how you understand it, but I thought that is HILARIOUSLY APPALLING! Because as romantic as it sounds with the mention of sun set and sun rise, of heaven and all, I can totally imagine how offended the Sui dynasty emperor must’ve felt upon hearing it. The general consensus today was not that he was offended by the “sun set” part, but by the fact that Japan saw itself as an equal with China (Chinese emperor had always thought of themselves as the superior one to its neighbouring countries). And true enough, he told his liaison officer that he did not wish to hear from the “Barbarians” if they continued sending such rude letters.
I have styled the Dragon Lady in a Japanese-Chinese fashion also because Chinese pop culture depiction of ancient Chinese women over 1,000 years ago have always been extremely influenced by the Japanese aesthetics. And the Chinese liked to claim that it was because the Japanese were influenced by Chinese aesthetics at that point in time. I find this inverse-appropriation by the Chinese extremely interesting because instead of looking at their own artefacts to uncover the original Chinese look of the period, they decided to turn to the Japanese’s interpretation and evolved adaptation of the Chinese culture.
The long flowing hair was indeed valued by the ancient Chinese, but in nowhere could we find women draping it down like the Japanese during the Heian period although women did drape a little of their hair down with a knot at the neck area.
Have a look at the Han Chinese style vs the Heian Japanese styling of hair:
Chinese Han Dynasty female figurineChinese Han Dynasty female figurineJapanese Heian style femaleThe Han woman would not have long flown hair, or loose hair (unlike what has been portrayed in shows). It is a very Japanese-influenced aesthetic. So is the multi-coloured, layered robes with a long tail, like their juni-hitoe.
Even though the TV produces and stylists of China refuse to acknowledge it, they have been extremely influenced by the HK period drama creators of the 80s and 90s, who were in turn influenced by the Japanese aesthetics greatly. And fast forward a few decades, the Chinese period drama stylists and consumers have naturalised this Japanese aesthetics, blending what seems Chinese but essentially very Japanese aesthetics into their mix, creating a new fusion aesthetics today.
This topic is fascinating and a fun exploration to go into for a future post.
Yes, I should probably also talk about the recent/age-old debate about Korean vs Chinese dressing in modern Chinese period shows too, some day.
Emerald Dragon, Symbol of Spring, and the East where the Sun rises. It was a creature full of vitality.
While the biggest event in Fashion x History has just concluded, judging from the turnout at the Met Gala, one can conclude that dressing to the theme isn’t quite a forte of A-listers. In the name of greater good, this series will demonstrate how one can be fashionably historically-inspired, while still adhering to certain themes.
AUSPICIOUS BIRDS AND US
Birds have had a long history of being seen as auspicious creatures and totems in Chinese culture. The Sun, for example, was represented by a three-legged bird. And of course, we are all very familiar with the phoenix, which at some point became synonymous with the bird in question I’m discussing today.
It has been known by many names in the Eastern part of the world, Zhu Que by the Chinese, Suzaku by the Japanese, Jujak by the Korean and Chu Tước by the Vietnamese. It symbolised the southern constellations of the night sky, and the element Fire.
Because of its association with fire, the vermillion bird is often thought to be the phoenixes by the West. And yes, plural because the Chinese Phoenixes fenghuang had gender (Feng was the male, and Huang was the female, and they combined into a singular identity somewhere down the road later on), while the Vermillion Bird did not.
The phoenix was believed to have the colours of the rainbow while the Vermillion Bird took its colour from the fire. Was that a phoenix or a vermillion bird that we spotted in Mulan? hmmm…..
Mulan (2020) live action movie featured a ‘phoenix’ which actually looks more like the Vermillion Bird of the South. Disney probably got confused between the Chinese and the Western phoenix.
Although some sources said that the ancient Chinese thought the stars in the southern night sky resembled the vermillion bird, thus the assignment of this symbol, it is unlikely so as the Vermillion Bird of the South as well as the Black Warrior of the North did not come into existence in the constellation assignment until much later (about 2,000 years ago) while the ancient Chinese were already very familiar with the constellations for far longer and had assigned the Dragon and Tiger to them first.
THE STYLING
Since Tang and Qing dynasty has the most fun and daring make-up trends ands styles, our styles were mainly based on these two periods, jazzed it up for modern taste.
The vermillion bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies. A single red feather nose piece is the only thing to hint at it being a bird.
This styling was designed in collaboration with Aaron Han (@aharw) assisted by gabby @ga.bae.be Makeup assisted by Danny @chenlingx0 and Silas @operatang Photo by Aaron and I
The styling was done in a manner to represent the animals but also not in a literal sense. The traits that are used are symbolic, just like the animal themselves are symbolic.
The Vermillion Bird obscures half of its face with a Bian Mian fan which is a half-oval type of fan with a history of over 2,000 years. Originally made of bamboo, it evolved to other materials overtime and the one in the shoot was made with an emerald green silk gauze with weaved patterns. Very understated, and quintessentially Chinese. Its subtletly is juxtaposed with the red feather nose piece of The House of Malakai styled by Aaron (@aharw) to suggest its avian nature. Of course, the collar design and the Tang style (circa 8th century) wing-like eyebrows are also suggestive of that.
Section of the reference brow from Tang. This is a painting on silk screen uncovered from the Astana tombs.
Underneath the nose piece, were rouge blushers across the cheeks which some might recall seeing on famous 90s Chinese singer Faye Wong, or more recently, singer Rainie Yang. Except that it’s a lot more intense, as it would’ve been how the Tang people of the 10th century were copying the Tibetans during that time in this style of make-up.
Who wore it better? Left Faye Wong, Middle a Tibetan lady, Right Rainie Yang.
Obviously celebrities typically don’t do much research when they try on different make-up styles, pretty sure the socialites of Tang didn’t either, it was probably just cool or fun for them to experiment with a different styles because this style of blusher was deemed barbaric by the early Tang rulers, and had requested for the Tibetans to stop this practice. Who’d knew that a few hundred years later, it would become vogue at the end of Tang!
And just in case you thought the hair looks non-Chinese (like the typical long hair at the back in Chinese period dramas), I’d like to point you towards the Dunhuang murals from the Tang dynasty (same period), and look at the blushers and the hairstyle and accessories, it’s really quite Over The Top:
Section of Dunhuang Mural in Mogao Cave no. 61 with a noble lady of late Tang accessoried with many large and elaborate hair pins, haircombs, and the Tibetan style brick-red rouge on her cheeks.
The lip was also historically based on the last dynasty of China—Qing dynasty. Similar to the Tang rulers, the Qing were not of the Han ethnic group although they have adopted a great deal of the Han practices after ruling over this Han-majority land for centuries. The Qing lip would typically be just a red dot on the bottom lip, but there were instances where the top lip was also painted fully.
Picture of Imperial Consort Pearl (Zhen Fei), who was rumoured to have been drowned in a well in the Forbidden City by the Empress Dowager Cixi. She has the Qing style lip with a dot an her bottom lipi in this picture.
The Modern Vermillion Bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies.
The fringe skirt by Raf Simon for Calvin Klein is a reference to its long tail feathers.
Unlike the Phoenix, the Red Bird is just red, while phoenixes were said to be of rainbow colours.
The vermillion bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies. A single red feather nose piece is the only thing to hint at it being a bird with its front skirt is a reference to its long tail feathers.
The broad shoulder look was never really a Chinese thing, as sloping shoulder would look better in the traditional Chinese garment that has no shoulder seams. But that changed in the 40s with women adding shoulder-pads to their Cheongsams to accentuate the shoulder. This look is exemplified by the Japanese Singer in China Yoshiko Yamaguchi, most famously known by her Chinese stage name Li Xiang Lan 李香兰:
Left: Famous American-Chinese writer Eileen Chang Right: Yshiko Yamaguchi/Li Xiang Lan in broad shoulder Cheongsam
QUINTESSENTIALLY CHINESE CRAFT, ACCESSORIES AND AESTHETICS
The Western fashion is very big on silhouettes of the dress, while the Chinese has always been about the hair, the craftsmanship, and the understated luxury where one needs to be close enough and in the ‘right circle of knowledge’ to appreciate the weave, the texture, the material, the motif etc. There’s a lot of secrecy behind many of the crafts, and that made them exclusive, therefore a sign of prestige for those who recognise them. Yet, in Chinese culture (quite unlike the Japanese), the craftsmen are anonymous, and undervalued in the grander scheme of things because the Chinese aesthetics has always been literati-led and the craftsmen were more of the ‘technicians’ to the literati’s ‘artistic vision’. Not unlike the many craftsmen working anonymously behind designer brands that bore the mark of the big name designers who most likely did not make those items themselves.
Another style with hair full of Chineseness. Velvet silk flower of bird motif, Chinese-Hakka style wound silk flowers, and purple jade flower. Bodysuit by Richard Quinn, Nose piece by Ricardo Tisci for Givenchy, styled by Aaron han (@aharw) Hair and accessories by me, make-up by Silas and I.
And just to transition into the more purely Chinese look, we did another look with more Chinese accessories, and also a Tang style hair and make-up with Qing lips. You probably think that it is a copycat of Frida Kahlo, honestly we didn’t realise it until it’s been done, and I immediately recalled a stranger getting in touch to borrow from me my silk flowers for her dressed-up costume party (she stopped responding the moment I told her the price of the flowers. I know, the value of these things aren’t very apparent to those who are not familiar with them).
I use a lot of lacquer and silk flowers because they are so, so, archetypically Chinese but most people just think of Chinese = gold. When in actuality, Chinese didn’t really use much gold in the ancient past. Or Green Jade (Jadeite) for that matter.
I love the emerald green silk scarve that has the auspicious clouds motif done in silver and gold couching technique.
Notice the green bangle? That is a vintage carved lacquer bangle (very rare to come by as typically it would be in red/cinnabar). Carved lacquer came about sometime during the Tang dynasty as well (circa 8th century or so) and became quite a thing later on so even though lacquer was used in many Asian cultures, carve lacquer can be said to be quintessentially Chinese. It is an extremely tedious process, as you would require hundreds of layers of paint, painted and dried, and painted and dried, before you can reach just a few centimetres of thickness for carving.
The Met (HAH!) had an exhibition on lacquer/cinnabar in 2009, you can read the synopsis HERE.
For the Traditional Chinese Vermillion Bird, I’ve decided to go with a wedding look because we often think of phoenixes for Chinese weddings, yet the colour that brides often wear for that occasion would be Red which is actually the colour of the Vermilion Bird. And since the Vermillion bird is often confused with the Phoenix, and more often than not used interchangeably with it, might as well throw the two into the same mix. If you can’t beat them, join them!
Styled, shot, accessories by me.
And you don’t say, Silas certainly looks a bit like Gemma Chan here don’t you think?
For this time round, she’s wearing cinnabar carved lacquer bangles. One is red-on-red, one is red-on-black. Both are vintage pieces.
Now, I shall introduce you to the real Chinese filigree and cloisonné craft for hair accessories. Not the fashion jewelry type worn on the red carpet at the Met by Chef Melissa King for her nail protector. Apparently it was supposed to be inspired by Empress Dowager Cixi (who is, by the way, NOT the last empress of China, contrary to what the Chef wrote on her insta).
The thing about traditional craftsmanship that came from a lineage of thousands of years, is that they get finer and finer, and they are often consumed by the imperial family so the demand for finesse is extremely high. Also, they are all about understated luxury. If it’s that big a bling, it’s probably too crass for them.
Filigree nailguard with ruby, pearl and kingfisher feather inlay. Collection of the Palace Museum in Beijing.Close-up details of the nailguard
The Palace Museum collection has quite a number of nail guards made from the Imperial Chinese filigree craft, completed with gems, pearls and kingfisher feathers on many occasions. You can zoom in to see the fine details of these nailguards, and they are extremely intricate —as fine as the kingfisher feathers.
In order to give you a bit more context on the scale of these intricacies, I shall zoom in a little bit on the filigree and cloisonné of the phoenix hairpiece in my photo which has similar craftsmanship as the palace museum nail guard above.
It is made with tiny grains of freshwater pearls and ruby (I think, I can’t remember the stones cos I have too many of these accessories.. lol). Her earrings are also filigree and cloisonné phoenix. SUPER AUSPICIOUS I KNOW!
I did an apprenticeship a couple of years back on filigree, cloisonné and kingfisher feather craft in Beijing, and it was through this process that I came to fully appreciate just how intricate this craft is. It’s not the type that you can see on photos or videos, that’s why celebrities wouldn’t really wear them because they don’t show up on screen that well cos they’re too tiny.
Extremely close up view of the phoenix filigree and cloisonné hairpin.
If you zoom in close enough, you can see that the edges of the wings is made up of tiny dots of gold. It’s actually very very fine silver threads gilded in gold, twisted into like a braid-like structure and welded onto the base. When I did my apprenticeship, the first thing to do was to learn how to pull the thick silver threads into fine strands, finger than human hair. And how to twist them in shape without breaking them. Sorry about the resolution, it’s just too fine for my camera. I will do better next time.
Our vermillion bird bride with a hair full of intangible cultural heritage craft—silk flowers based on Palace Museum collection, and a fan of another type of intangible cultural heritage craft—Kesi, also based on Palace Museum collection.
Since this set is all about intangible cultural heritage and fine Chinese crafts, I threw in the Kesi (literally translated to carved silk) fan. This is a replica of the Qing dynasty fan in the collection of the Palace Museum in Beijing.
The side profile you can see butterfly hair pieces made of dyed silk using the wound silk flowers craft, and also dyed goose feather accessories to replace the kingfisher craft. This hairpiece is based on the Qing dynasty item in the collection of the National Palace Museum in Taipei.
The topic on Kingfisher feather is contentious, and there are many modern attempts to replicate the effect of kingfisher feather without the cruelty of it. Even the Qing dynasty rulers implemented a ban on using kingfisher feathers for accessories (with limited success obviously).
The cloisonné was one of the historical ways during the Qing period which middle class women could get a pseudo kingfisher feather colour accessory while the aristocrats continued with theirs.
These days, wound silk accessories, dyed goose feather, or peacock feathers are all reasonable substitutes. If you’re wondering (as I did), goose and peacock shed feathers quite readily and their feathers are abundant so it’s not like the case of the kingfisher where you need to kill many to get a tiny bit (disclaimer: goose and peacocks are not harmed since you just gather their shed feathers).
I’m actually making a series of accessories with these type of feathers and vintage lacquer pieces, and will be sharing them later half of the year! So stay tuned!
Meanwhile, if you’re planning to have a Chinese wedding shoot, please don’t go red + gold. It’s so cliché and nouveau riche. At least try to add some finesse like turquoise, blue, green, cyan, pearl, aquamarine, lapis lazuli, lacquer… They are going to add a lot more texture and colours to your otherwise crass look. We do, after all, have at least 5000 years of material culture and history to tap on, don’t behave like we only have 50.
Oh no, I was totally not referring to the billionaire daughter’s wedding (which one? so many huh.. :P).
POP CULTURE REFERENCE
The four guardians were first brought to my attention when I was a young latchkey child watching Japanese anime on my couch after school with my sister. Fushigi Yuugi was the name of the anime, and it started with the chapter of the Vermillion Bird of the South—Suzaku (in Japanese). It had all the characters with special abilities, each representing one of the 7 constellations of the southern nightsky under the charge of the Vermilion Bird.
So it is fitting that we start off this series with the Vermillion Bird.
DRAG IN CHINESE CONTEXT & AFTERTHOUGHTS
In the anime, the king of the southern kingdom Hotohori was a man who was as beautiful as a woman, probably very ahead of its time in the 90s.
And in this series, I have worked with Silas (@operatang) to portray this beautiful feminine side of a man. Drag is not new to Chinese traditional culture, except that it was not politicised like the West. The archetypical Chinese Opera look was a result of men trying to hide their masculine facial features in order to look more feminine. And beautiful men were a thing and even recorded in historical texts for thousands of years.
Hotohori in Fushigi Yuugi
When I approached Silas for this project, I also intended to try to re-interpret drag as we know it today in a traditional Chinese manner—from the perspective of someone who wants to look as much like a woman in representation according to a male perspective. This is historically related to the oppression of women in public for about 500 years where images and representation of women were manifested through male bodies in public performances, through their ideas of what a woman is like, how we walk, how we talk, or by male painters.
So as a result, as it is today, men could be more ‘feminine’ than we are (small sample size, but the 2 women involved this shoot can attest to that!). Maybe femininity has often been depicted through the male gaze, so what we see is often a man’s ideal woman image (not how we actually behave, but how they fantasize us to be). So a man could possibly represent very well this ‘ideal femininity’ if they are in touch with their feminine side. Silas showed me some Asian drag queens who are absolutely gorgeous and live up to the ideal female archetype upheld by society (we’re all fellow subjects of the male gaze in this instance!).
I also wondered about the concept of ‘womanface‘ in western drag practices, where features of what it meant to be a woman were used as content for jokes, as part of the overall ‘ridiculous’ look. I’m not sure if I prefer that, or the over-romanticisation of female body during our oppression (as in the Chinese context). Two extremes of the male take on femininity.
Food for thought I guess!
AND because you lasted till the end of this article, you are rewarded with a Vermillion Bird Instagram/facebook selfie make-up filter! Click on the hyperlinked text to claim them:
It’s with great amusement that I realised that there’s an ancient Chinese creature in the latest Fantastic Beasts series—The Qilin 麒麟 (pronounced Chillin, Spoilers on Qilin in the show available HERE). In recent years we have seen how ancient Chinese/East Asian mythical creatures are being represented in many of the Western shows such as Shang Chi (Morris’ my favourite, naturally), and now Harry Potter.
9-tail fox and MorrisShang Chi mythical creaturesQilin in Fantastic Beasts
There are many extremely interesting records of fantastic beasts in ancient Chinese texts from thousands of years ago, of creatures far beyond our imaginations. If I have time, I will get to some of them but let me just state the most familiar strangers in the lot — the kind that you probably have heard of (if you’re into Chinese shows, or Fengshui) but not really quite sure what they really are.
These creatures were not only used by China, but the entire Sinosphere which extends to the rest of East Asia and some Southeast Asian countries with strong Chinese influences.
PRESENTING:
The Four Guardians 四象— Vermillion Bird, Emerald Dragon (this name is contentious and I will explaining due course why), Black Warrior and White Tiger.
Motif design on the eaves of roof tiles in China over 2,000 years ago were of the 4 guardians
CHINESE ARCHITECTURAL FEATURE—FANCY AND FUNCTIONAL ROOF
The Chinese roof is made up of quite a few different types of tiles, each serving a different function. The part where it has large surface for motifs, were mainly for the purpose of preventing rainwater from seeping into the wooden roof structures, and to prevent the water droplets from corroding the building base originally.
Then, they got fancier.
In case you are wondering, why are the roof tiles round, and how does it work? Here’s a quick view of the traditional Chinese roof:
There’s the circular shape tile cap that covers the end of the entire line/row of barrel tiles (bamboo or pipe-like shape), and there is the crescent shaped drip tiles between the circular caps (as in water droplet, which was literally meant for water to follow the tip and fall down in a line when raining).
This feature is not exclusive to the Chinese and we can see similar examples in Greek and Roman roof of similar period. They are called the antefix, and they served similar function as the Chinese eave-end tiles.
FANCIFUL HISTORY
The Eave-end Tile (cap at the end of the tile) has a history of over 3,000 years in China, from semi circular shapes to round shape by the Han dynasty (2,000 years ago).
The motifs too, evolved from the more stylised totem-looking designs of the Warring State to more naturalistic ones of animals, plants, insects around the Qin dynasty (slightly over 2,000 years ago). And by then, circular eaves tiles became increasingly common.
Left: Tao Tie beast with dragon motif from Warring State (circa 2,500 years ago). The Tao Tie beast is just mega foodie, something many of us can relate to.
The Four Guardians series of rounded Eaves Tiles were particularly popular and iconic of the Han dynasty, which was the peak of the Eaves Tile’s development. Later on in the 1,000 years that followed, with the popularisation of Buddhism from post-Han through Tang and Song Dynasty, lotus motifs also became key motifs on these tiles. NOTE: This is not to say that lotus motif did not exist prior to the introduction of Buddhism to China, just that the form and significance of the lotus, and the popularity of use were markedly different pre and post Buddhism.
In the last 500 years during the Qing dynasty, the focus was mainly on the imperial roof tiles, which were generally of dragon motifs. The roof tile design evolution also kind of stagnated as more focus went into the development of wall tiles used by the commoners.
This is my favourite Eaves Tile design so far, the deer one on top comes next in line.
ANCIENT CHINESE OLYMPIC RINGS?
From top, clockwise: Black Warrior, Emerald Dragon, Vermillion Bird, White Tiger
Like how the Olympic Ring symbolised all the colours of the world’s flags (hah, yes it’s not the 5 continents!), the Chinese used these four symbols and colours to give representative meanings and characteristics to the world and the natural order of things.
Deep. I know.
Everything in the Chinese culture is so connected and inter-referencing each other. And they sprung off to another system of symbolism and more self-referencing so you had to peel away a lot of those layers to get to the very core origin: I-Ching and Astrology.
While you’re reading your horoscope for the day, rest assured that the ancient Chinese thought that the stars and their alignment told them a lot about their world as well.
INDIGENOUS CHINESE ASTROLOGY
Of course, the Four Guardians (literally translated as the “Four Symbols” actually) held important, symbolic meanings, and was related to the Tai-Chi logo you are familiar with. The Tai-Chi logo further extended into the octagonal trigram that people always associate Taoists with:
I know, how is this remotely relevant to the animals?!?
Well, the animals came about when the ancient Chinese started mapping the stars they saw in the night sky, mapping them out, and dividing them into quarters. And there had to be a system of reference, so they referenced the I-Ching which a very profoundly complex book that supposedly summarises the world’s natural order. This book was henceforth referenced by the Chinese in every single thing they do, from fortune telling to medicine, and by extension, the Chinese sought to categorise and make sense of the world through the rules laid out in this book (different period, different interpretation, different manifestations).
And so… the night sky was sorted into 4 groups (yes, like harry potter’s sorting hat, they were given different characteristics, and animals were assigned to it). And that is how the 4 creatures got allocated a spot to represent a lot of the other symbolic meanings which I will go into in the respective articles.
Before the introduction and popularisation of horoscopy astrology as we know today in the 8th century China (brought to China from the ‘West’ i.e. Central Asia/Iran and India), Chinese had their own astrological practices and charts but it was off limit to the commoners. Due to trade and cultural exchanges on the silk road over 2,000 years ago, the Chinese gradually adopted Western astrological ideas (we had Indian astrologers in the Chinese imperial court around the 8th century.
Top left: Greek Terracotta gorgoneion antefix 580-570 BCE Top right: Taotie motif from similar period Bottom left: Capricorn motif of Emperor Augustus period some 2,000 years ago in Rome Bottom right: Four beasts representing the 28 constellations in Chinese astrology
You can see the similarities between the Greek and Roman antefix motifs (left) and the Chinese ones (right) of similar period. The top row were over, 2500 years ago, and featured a gorgoneion, while the bottom row was about 2,000 years ago featuring animals which were representative of the constellations.
Due to the passing of thousands of years, many things have been so intertwined that it takes some time to thoroughly explain the gist of them (oxymoron, I know). And I will do so in the coming posts!
PROCESS & CONCEPT
For this series, I have worked with someone in the Fashion industry to reinterpret these creatures with a modern twist AND Since I love juxtapositions, I also did a parallel series with more traditional aesthetics. I will be sharing each of them in single, detailed entries coming up as well.
Here’s a sneak peek of the traditional ones:
I think this is enough information for the long weekend.
Happy Labour Day! Have fun trying to make sense of this piece!
Entertainers, prostitutes, muse—these are a few of the terms widely used by academics and general public alike to describe female performers in ancient China. The Chinese term for performing artists evolved from a unisex word (伎jì) referring to male and female performers, into a word dedicated to female entertainers (妓jì) in the Tang dynasty (around 7-9th century) likely due to the wild popularity and prestige of being a female performer (also Courtesan) during that period. Thereafter, due to changing value and political systems, the nature of the profession evolved and these women of spiritual pleasure were objectified into women of carnal pleasures.
It’s interesting to note that in the ancient worlds across the world, there are Courtesans of similar natures. They were usually one of the most educated and artistically accomplished women in society, and they produced and inspired great artistic legacies. We see it in the Mesopotamian culture (West Asia i.e. Iran, Iraq, Syria), the Ancient Greek culture, Indian culture as well as Japanese, Korean and Chinese culture. There’s a wonderful book that I highly recommend everyone to read if you are interested in this topic—“Freewomen, Patriarchal Authority, and the Accusation of Prostitution” by Stephanie Lynn Budin.
Scene extracted from Yanzilou: Forgotten Tales (2021)
For the purpose of this article, I shall touch on the extravagant lifestyles that top courtesans enjoyed, and their role in leading the fashion of their times.
Now in case you think that all these women are sex slaves, you couldn’t be more wrong. They were slaves, yes, but not for sex.
There were courtesans, and there were Courtesans.
While Entertainment Houses weren’t exactly the epitome of female liberty and empowerment, they certainly offered these talented women a break from life as a traditional good wife.
FASHION TREND SETTERS
Gold and Silk
Scene extracted from Yanzilou: Forgotten Tales (2021)
Good wives had to adhere to strict rules on dressing—they have to dress in according to the rule book based on their husbands’ title and social status, courtesans were exempted from any rules. In fact, even though gold and silk were only accessible and permitted to be worn by the elites, Courtesans were decked in them in the comfort their entertainment houses because the realm of the Entertainment House was theirs.
And so, they were at the forefront of fashion styles. This continues to hold true until now, where public performers and celebrities were leaders of sartorial styles because they were bold enough to embody it. In fact, their very existence and popularity kind of depends on it. And you can try to spot the many different styles of Tang Dynasty dresses which you probably would never realised was iconic of the period if you just watched period dramas—most period dramas aren’t very period accurate.
Disclaimer: We actually incorporated Tang dresses worn by women across different periods of the dynasty, spanning 300-400 years so you could see the diversity in sartorial choices. Be it of Hu/western influence, or Han Chinese influence. So it was not specific to one particular time period in Tang.
Purple Brows
How Murex Snail looks like although mostly it could also be normal shell colour based on what I saw instead of purple.
Naturally, make-up was a large part of the fashion trends. Starting from the brow, the Tang period women were known for having extremely bold make-up (think Mulan except more tastefully done). There was mention of a compilation of 10 different brow styles of the period, but unfortunately the actual record was missing. The Courtesans, were the main drivers of this change and they were given a special title— the Ambassador of Brows!
If you actually do catch Yanzilou: Forgotten Tales, do look out for Mamapan and her brows in the early stage and you might just spot a tinge of purple. This was an actual pigment that would’ve been used during ancient China to showcase your wealth and connections.
Purple as we all know, is a colour of royalty in the West, and it was actually frowned upon by Confucius as an inferior colour since he saw it as an ‘impure’ colour unlike red, white, black, yellow and green/blue (yes he’s an CYMK fan). But during the Tang Dynasty, purple became extremely popular that the highest level of honour was to be wearing a purple gown in the imperial court, and to be bestowed one by the emperor. Purple brow pigment was also extremely precious. They came from a Mediterranean Sea snail—the Murex snail and the intense and deep purple produced was called the Tyrian purple. Of course, due to different oxidisation process, it might turn blue as well.
Screencap of the “Tyrian purple brow kit” in the Legend of Zhenhuan. Such a far cry from the actual image above right? And the box they used, was a fake carved lacquerware, it’s made of resin and costs 1/10th the price of a real one. I can just see through its fairness despite the low resolution! The real carved lacquer made by craftsmen, we have in a couple in Yanzilou and you would get to see it in the film experience too. We will make sure you see it because carved lacquerware started in Tang!
The last I checked, Tyrian purple in today’s market would’ve cost you 300USD/gram from a private seller (before shipping). I don’t think it is commercially available on a large scale since the production is extremely limited. But just imagine in those days, with shipping, it would’ve cost you a bomb. That’s why Tyrian purple brow make-up kit appeared in the Legend of Zhenhuan—it was a tribute item from “Persia”. Only the emperor’s favourite concubine would have access to it.
Don’t ask us how Yanzilou got hold of it. It’s a secret we’ll never tell. 😉
On a side note, I heard from a weaver that there are some places in Southeast Asia that produces similar style of purple dye with some sea snail or creatures. That’s quite an interesting thing to explore further!
Scene extracted from Yanzilou: Forgotten Tales (2021)
ARTS CRITIQUE
Arbiter of Taste & Sophistry
When it comes to the arts, we have to admit that taste is subjective and there’s technically no absolute judgement of good and bad art unless you are an ancient Chinese, of course. In which case, it is always literati-lead. So you see a rejection of life-like painting style in Chinese arts, because the literati found it too literal and lacking in imagination and spirit.
And guess who has got them wrapped around their fingers?
*takes a bow*
We often assume that the Chinese Imperial Exam System was probably one of the most meritocratic inventions of the ancient Chinese and that it had been meritocratic from the start. But back in the Tang Dynasty, it wasn’t so exactly. For one, only the rich could afford to study since cost of paper was extremely high. For two, Tang Dynasty exam submissions were not anonymous. So if you have some kind of reputation, or connections, the examiners could very well choose you over someone unknown.
That’s the plight of many scholars and the only way out, was to have their poems and writings known by the influential officials in the capital.
And the most effective way, is not to cold call. But to go through the Courtesans who would have access to the most powerful men in the country since all state banquets and important events would require their attendance. They in fact, would be invited to the private events as well, to host the sessions.
Scene extracted from Yanzilou: Forgotten Tales (2021)
So there were the courtesans, and there were the Courtesans, and there were the Duzhis who were the most highly regarded Courtesans (like Head Courtesans). The Duzhi’s talents were so highly regarded that they would host drinking and poetry sessions with these influential and highly educated patrons, and be the judge of the merits of the poetry. If you were of a lower level official, I suppose Courtesans would be good enough as well!
So just imagine, these Duzhi or Courtesans started praising a random scholar’s poem, or compose a song and used the scholar’s poems as lyrics… It would’ve been the most effective advertisement/product placement!
Most literature and history text books wouldn’t point this out, but it is precisely because of the courtesan culture, of them singing poems as lyrics, that in the dynasty after Tang (the Song Dynasty), the Song Lyrics became an important for of literary arts.
So how did we get from there, to prostitutes?
It’s the same old story in every civilisation, every culture. Like witches being hunted for their knowledge and associated power. I mean, there’s definitely nothing more badass and threatening than women with a great deal of knowledge, free from the traditional rules of a ‘good woman’, and knows all the secrets of influential men.
Just in case you are not on Facebook or Instagram, and have missed out on the announcement of the upcoming virtual interactive film experience, here’s a sneak peek of it! I realised that not many people can imagine what the experience would be like, and at this point, I can only say that you can choose who you meet in Yanzilou, the premium Entertainment House of the 8th century Tang China, and we have as many as 6,464 possible paths so different people would definitely experience Yanzilou very differently. Just like how it would’ve been in real life.
I will leave the trailer below, and if you’re interested to get a ticket, Early Birds/Black Friday sale is on until end of the month! It’s 25% off the regular ticket ($24) and 40% off the Late Bloomer tickets ($30).
It’s only running from 16 Dec to 31 Dec online, and you will receive informations in due course about how to experience this wherever you are, at your own time, with a cup of good wine/tea in a dark room with a pair of kicks earphones/speakers!
So join us on this time travelling experience this Christmas!
Chinese Courtesans are probably China’s best kept secret and earliest influencers in fashion and lifestyle.The famous horse-face skirts that were popularly amongst Ming dynasty aristocrat ladies were said to be original worn by the courtesans of the previous period (Song dynasty), and the popularisation of Cheongsam, too, were in part due to the singing girls in early Republican era.
Many of the images and paintings of women in casual poses in the past were often that of the Courtesans.
When we mention Poster Girls of China, we probably think of the posters from the 30s with women dressed in Cheongsam gracing the covers of certain magazines or endorsing certain brands. Any earlier, it would have to be the subject of our discussion today–the courtesan of Qing dynasty.
Postcards of famous courtesans of Qing dynasty, some of these photos made their way into the Forbidden City and collected by the imperial family even.
A quick search of early female portrait paintings, before the onset of photography, you would realise that they are predominantly depictions of noble women. And most of the times, these paintings were kept in private collections with only the formal looking ones available for public display. This is in line with the predominant idea in the last few centuries that women should be as private as possible. Courtesans, on the other hand, obey a totally different set of rules.
The Qing dynasty women featured in this entire article were probably very different from the typical ones you watch on TV. Those wearing a one-piece long robe were the Manchurian women, whereas these are the Han women who retained their two-piece (blouse and skirt) way of dressing despite the Qing government’s call to standardise the Hans’ with that of the Manchurians’.
Unlike what poorly researched and cheaply produced TV shows would have you believe, courtesans of the past were more classy than trashy. They were better educated than the majority of Chinese women and were admired as celebrities since over 1,000 years ago.
The bottom caption indicates that this lady is the Top scorer of the courtesan contest, which isn’t at all like your beauty pageant today–they’re much more focused on virtues and talents instead of sex appeal.
Beauty Pageants amongst courtesans have existed for at least 1,000 years in China, but in 1897, such a contest was formalised and made public through a newspaper in Shanghai. The Courtesan pageant was divided into 3 titles:
Flower pageant Top courtesans who were well-read, educated and knowledgeable. This mirrors the Imperial Exam system which only men could participate in.
Talent pageant Taking inspiration from the Tang dynasty Pear Garden arts institution (The first Arts school in Chinese history, set up by the Emperor Xuanzong who personally mentored courtesans/artistes and musicians), this category is to award to a courtesan of the highest artistic attainment.
Leaf pageant There’s no flower without its leaves. This category is for the attendants of the top courtesans.
There was no reward for winners of these contests, but their contact details alongside with their nomination write-up would be published for those interested to know more 😉
I guess that’s the earliest form of “paid with exposure”.
A top courtesan reading newspaper and posing for the gram.
Taking inspiration from the western voting system for political representatives, the pageant organiser started probably the earliest form of Voting Contests. The entire contest would start with an open nomination, where every single nomination letter detailing the virtues, beauty, merits, talents, knowledge of the courtesans would be published on the newspaper. Every nomination letter counted as one vote, and it was not limited to any nationality.
In a society where a man could have multiple wives (all of whom would be illiterate or less exposed to the world), Courtesans fulfilled more of a man’s need for romance and companionship on an intellectual level. Therefore being well-educated, skilled in arts, intellectually-engaing, were much more important than their looks. This is an export oil painting depicitng a “famous courtesan” painted in mid-1800s.
An American was said to have participated in the voting and he even wrote a complaint letter to the newspaper for awarding the title to the ugly ones instead of the good looking ones. Oh, the superficiality!
Little did he know, one of the critical scoring criteria was how many books, and how widely the courtesan read. Oh, the ignorance!
The Courtesan in this photo is entirely decked with silk wounded accessories (very Southern Chinese craft, Hakka in origin) which I commissioned a craftsperson to make based on the paintings. She was also wearing a mock Kingfisher feather earring with dangling pearls. Lace, although not usually seen in Chinese garment of this period, was already used in China in the 1900s.
Now that we’re on the topic of foreign men and their superficial appreciation of the exotic Chinese beauty, we have to mention the oil paintings of Qing courtesans which were sold as souvenir paintings for overseas market.
In the 1800s, Guangzhou was a thriving port for international trade. With that, emerged a popular trade of portrait painting for the general masses, as well as the souvenir paintings. One of the most popular term for painters and shops selling western-style paintings (usually painted by locals in the western style), would have the name “Gua/qua” attached to it, so painters and shops would call themselves [insert name]-Qua. The Qua reference originated from the Portuguese term Quadro (which means frame).
Many of the portraits of women were entitled “Famous Courtesan”, and they looked really quite similar. Most likely a very popular style and design which painters of that period would copy from each other and reproduce at rapid speed for quick sale. It is also because most people would not have access to meet graceful women willing to pose for them regularly, so courtesans would be the easiest to paint.
Of course, we would be naïve to believe that Andy Warhol started the whole Warhol Factory with production lines of artworks in the 1960s. The Chinese, being the production house for many artistic wares (i.e. Chinaware) had been at it for centuries and oil painting was no exception. The well-known Quas of Guangzhou would have many assistants paintings in their workshops and selling them off cheaply to earn quick profit. Most of the times, the export paintings would bear no signatures–nobody cares, unless the painters were well-known in which case they would sign those pieces.
Export painting in progress.
There were many interesting stories of rivalry between fellow painters, foreign painters and local painters, foreign teachers and their more commercially successful student all in the name of profit. And after China lost the first Opium War, it opened up more of its ports, and the exclusivity of Chinese content and imagery in Guangzhou was greatly reduced. The foreign market in the West with their China Mania in the mid 18th century were also increasingly more exposed to Chinese imagery, and were more discerning consumers of such ‘exotic’ souvenir paintings. Eventually, the painters didn’t end up earning much, and some went to Hong Kong, or Shanghai to seek alternative patronage and market.
The type of skirts worn by women of Qing were rather varied and colourful. They were so daring and good with their colour matching, that their rainbow coloured skirts (yes that’s right, I will come to that in the next article) and rainbow stripes were quite something.
While we’re at the topic of foreign influence in Chinese art, I would like to bring your attention to the Qing dynasty Madonna and Child paintings. Jesuits have been in China for centuries since the Ming dynasty, and we could find traces of these localised imagery of Madonna and China since the Ming period. I love how these Madonna and child were obviously Chinese, and shows the importance of remaining relevant to the target audience through decontextualisation. So I thought of doing one of my own (diaper included–Pampers should totally sponsor me :P).
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The Hanfugirls Collective is working on several projects related to fashion and female history. To ensure greater accessibility of our content, we will not be charging for knowledge on this blog.
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The Hanfugirls Collective is working on several projects related to fashion and female history. To ensure greater accessibility of our content, we will not be charging for knowledge on this blog.
We need your support so that we can curate and produce better content for all! If we have enough monthly donors, then we would be able to rent a physical space for immersive and experiential programmes and activities.
The Hanfugirls Collective is working on several projects related to fashion and female history. To ensure greater accessibility of our content, we will not be charging for knowledge on this blog.
We need your support so that we can curate and produce better content for all!
With more regular support, we would be able to plan ahead for a more sustainable and consistent delivery of content.
While Hanfu is the ‘woke/vogue’ Chinese idea of a traditional dress, Cheongsam is the conventional idea of one. Somewhere between these two, lies the missing link of the late Qing dynasty/early Republican Han women fashion like the invisible middle child.
So I’ve introduced the Manchurian Qing dressing with all its hair, accessories and hierarchies, which is what 90% of us are familiar with through TV series and of course the latest craze Yanxi Palace and Legend of Ruyi. Since most TV shows are more obsessed with the royalties and imperial family, naturally not much is shown on the Han Chinese dressing even though they form the majority.
For men, there’s no difference between the Manchurian and Han Chinese because it was the law for all to convert their way of dressing to the Manchurian style. This was supposed to be for the women and children as well, but rumour had it that during the implementation process, the Han Chinese felt very strongly about their traditional way of dressing as part of their cultural identity (and rightfully so), that they had several bloodshed protests! Eventually, there was an unspoken agreement that the men had to adopt (the Manchurians probably felt that once you emasculate the Han Chinese men with their cultural identity, you controlled the women and children naturally anyway), but left the women and children (and a few other exceptions) alone.
Han women and children continued wearing the traditional Han way without the need to adopt the Manchurian style of dressing.
As such, the Han Chinese women had different sartorial choices from the Manchurian women, and they continued binding their feet according to their own/parents’ aesthetic beliefs while Manchurian women were forbidden to do so by law even though they were drawn to such aesthetics at some point.
Women’s body were and are never our own it seems, and how we wish to treat our body has all along been politicised and moralised by society and the ruling class.
Eurocentric scholars and writers at the turn of last century liked to dismiss the Chinese as devoid of fashion, as if Chinese women were so oppressed by their rulers and system that they were accorded with little means nor awareness of beauty and dressing up.
[The] variations in Chinese dress from dynasty to dynasty… [occur] at the speed of a rather hesitant glacier.
Quentin Bell, 1910–1996, English art historian and author
A visual summary of Chinese fashion in the last 2,000 years. It’s definitely not comprehensive because it depends on how much items from those periods were uncovered through archeological digs, and it did not cover all the different regions in China with their individual practices and habits of dressing. Also, it did not cover the different hierarchies, seasons, and occasions.
[The mandarin’s robes] Scarcely changed in the course of centuries, but then Chinese society itself scarcely moved at all.
Fernand Braudel, 1902-1985, French historian
Left one and two are probably what is considered Classical period dress, and Right is the 19th Century one. I find them very different! Could it just be me?! How can they be seen as looking very much alike!??!
[T]he Chinese family of the last [i.e. 19th] century looked very much like a Chinese family of the Classical age.
Quentin Bell, 1910–1996, English art historian and author
In reality, all these quotes were really fashion historian’s equivalent of saying “All Asians look the same”–All Chinese dresses look the same.
But they’re not alone in that view. The Eurocentric Chinese novelist Eileen Chang also lamented in 1943 that “Generation after generation of women wore the same sorts of clothes without feeling in the least perturbed.” Yikes.
While the general form of top blouse and bottom skirt is maintained from the Ming (left) to the Qing (right) dynasty, the weaving, decorative techniques, colours, embroideries, cutting, and collars have completely changed. In fact, the Ming dynasty (14th-17th Century) alone was known at its time for over 100 styles of dresses, and that is taking into consideration the slow pace of production and consumption compared to the later periods.
Because a Chinese literati said so, it must be right? Were there just the same old Hanfu vs the new Cheongsam, these 2 types of existence and form?
I’m not comfortable with that assumption. Would you assume that quantitative change is more important than qualitative change? Or that the type of change that is more visually apparent is more valuable/legit than the subtle, fine and nuanced change?
To me, it is really the difference in culture. Just the other day, I was reading our friend Eustacia’s post on the different types of Kimono and what to wear for various occasions. And it struck me the Western eyes or the Modern eyes were so overstimulated by their own visual differences that they were unable to appreciate or identify the subtlties in the Chinese or Japanese culture. And which also explains the success of designers like Guo Pei in capturing their attention with the loud and archetypically Chinese designs.
While the most common style was the Mamian skirts (horse face skirts), there were tonnes of variations either within that category, or different styles altogether. They go by the names of “Hundred Pleats Skirt”, “Lunar Corona Skirt” (rainbow pleated skirts, like the rainbow around the moon), “Railing Skirt” (then solid colour stripes at each pleat look like railings), “Phoenix tail skirt” etc.
Fashion, to the ancient Chinese, was more of an exercise of artistic creativity within the appropriate boundaries that ensure that they adhere to the changing seasons, occasions, and hierarchies. Constraints are necessary to create meaningful and artful end products. And that, was what the ancient Chinese women were really capable of as they innovated on the types of weaving, motif, embroidery, dyeing techniques, decorative methods of the dresses.
A large part of this could be due to Chinese women’s training in embroidery. As Professor Marsha Weidner, a modern-day Chinese art historian noted, that through embroidery “women trained their hands and eyes, became attentive the smallest details, refined their colour sense, and mastered a large repertoire of motifs and compositional formulas.”
Qing Han fashion was definitely not the invisible middle child you’d imagine. It was bold, dramatic, yet intricate and sophisticated. It’s hard to pull off those complementary colour matchings but they did. Effortlessly.
If you look unclose at any of the apparels, you would realise that instead of just clothes, they were really works of art. Just like kimono. And while the form remained similar, the embroidery work, colour matching, even the direction of the thread made a lot of difference. Images really don’t do them justice–I just went to the Sun Yat-Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall to see actual pieces and you could really see how intricate the needleworks were, and how each of those dots in black in the images below were made up of hundreds of strands of silk, and which went through hundreds if not thousands of manhours to be extracted, spung, dyed, designed, and finally emboidered in accordance to considerations like occasion, hierarchy, season, aspirations and symbolic meanings.
I know I’m very Asian in my consumption of fashion when I buy all the different colours of the same design if I really liked it, because even just a change in colour, meant a big change for me, especially if it’s the design I like. Whereas I wouldn’t look twice at an ‘ugly’ design even if there were 1,000,000 dramatic variations of that design.
Quality over Quantity, anytime.
If you’d just zoom in to one small part of their dresses–the edges of their sleeves, you would notice a small band of embroidered motif, which usually would’ve be just about 5cm by 30cm or so, and the amount of details in embroidery they put into that is just incredible:
I went to the Modern Women of The Republic: Fashion and Change in China and Singapore exhibition today, at the Sun Yat Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall in Singapore (not Taiwan!). And came across this intricately embroidered pink Cheongsam in early 20th century (should be circa 1910s-1920s), and photos really do not do these embroidery justice:
If you ever get to see them in person, do take note of the size of the forbidden knot/stitch, the uniformity of them all, and also the uniformity of the spacing between the knots, and the gradient of colours in the flowers and leaves. All so effortlessly elegant.
My companion asked me why was it called the Forbidden Knot/Stitch. This romanticised name is given by western marketeers/sellers of Chinese goods to link it to the Orient/Forbidden city (sounds exotic right?) and, to make this craft sound really exclusive for the luxury market— claiming that because it would make embroiders blind with the tiny knots and details (sounds like they could command a super high price with this), it was forbidden in China by orders of the imperial court. But it’s nonsense. You can still go blind from doing many of the other embroidery works if done in poor lighting and the emperor wouldn’t care less!
At the turn of the 20th century, men were cutting their cues and adopting western fashion while the more traditional/good wives would continue their Qing era Han style dressing while the more progressive ones would adopt the western dresses as well.
Because there has been so little attention paid to the Qing dynasty Han women fashion until recent years, this part of Chinese female fashion history has been an extremely underrated invisible middle child despite it being the bridge between the Hanfu of Ming period and the Cheongsam of the 20th century.
Next up, I will look at the early eras of Cheongsam, before it became the Cheongsam we are familiar with today.
Till then, have a think about what is your definition of Fashion, and let me know your thoughts!
Many years ago I curated an exhibition in Melbourne’s Brunswick Street Gallery, exploring the boundaries between Folk Art as Fine Art pieces in the setting of a gallery. This remains one of my favourite topics–the breaking of artificial (and pretentious) barrier between what is considered folk (therefore kitschy and low-class) vs fine art. So we have come of the time of the year when folk art and traditions rule our celebrations, and you can never be too kitsch for it–THE CHINESE NEW YEAR! And since today’s the 7th day of the Chinese New Year, also known as the day of the Human/People (we were believed to be created by the mythical goddess on the 7th day), there’s nothing more suitable than to talk about birth and tiny human in this edition!
There is no end to the cliches and stereotypes related to this Chinese festival, but the best part about it is, I’m learning and starting to enjoy these cliches and stereotypes simply because they do reflect the very folk and down-to-earth part about my culture. As a traditionally agrarian society for thousands of years, the farmers were only second to the officials and literati (technically), and their art and customs should be equally celebrated as that of the literati even if they seemed really simplistic and unrefined to our modern consumeristic eyes.
Being an agrarian society means that the folks were deeply atuned to the changing seasons, and the crossing of one entire year to another meant the greatest of all seasonal celebrations. The Nian Hua (CNY folk woodblock prints) were visual representation and expressions of these simple folks’ well wishes for the family, friends, and nation in the coming year, and they were carved onto woodblocks for mass printing so that everyone could have a piece of the well wishes in their household. China is the inventor of woodblock (and later on movable) printing and paper (yes, Gutenberg didn’t invent the printing press), so the practice of printed posters for new year was widespread from as early as the Song dynasty (11th century).
The prints which started out as prints of deities for protection and blessings became increasingly popular in the Ming dynasty that followed, and took on a lot of different subject matters that are much more relatable to the everyday folks by the mid Qing dynasty.
I think for many of us, when we think about the woodblock prints would think of the image of a child with a carp (at least that’s the case for me anyway). So I took the opportunity to dress my tiny new model for a shoot, exploring the different aspects of children’s attire and the symbolism of auspiciousness in the process! It isn’t Chinese New Year Woodblock Print for the folks if it isn’t filled with contrasting colours and auspicious imageries!
One of the most symbolic children’s apparel would be the belly wrap–earliest finding dated to about Tang dynasty in the 7th to 10th century. Although probably not necessarily in the current form as we recognise it to be today, the practice of covering the front area and exposing the back definitely went way back.
Left bottom in red rectangle: children with belly wrap from Dunhuang Grottoes; Right: Children in different forms of red belly wraps from the Song dynasty
It was believed that when you cover the belly area of the child, you are protecting his overall wellbeing and health as the stomach was seen as the master of all 5 major organs, and that it prefers a warmer environment. Basically most of the common illnesses related to kids would/could be attributed to having cold air going through the stomach.
If you noticed the shape of the belly wrap, you would notice that its base is somewhat rounded, instead of the corner of a sharp lozenge shape, and the other 2 corners at the two sides would be sharp edged. Apparently it was to echo the Chinese believe that the sky is round and the earth is flat–the harmony between heaven and earth and that the human is connected with such natural order even for a child. In the more elaborate forms, the belly wrap would be embroidered with all kinds of auspicious motifs such as the “5 vernomous creatures” (snake, toad, scorpion, lizard and centipete). In a society back in those days where infant deaths were abundant, it was hoped that these vernomous creatures would drive away the evil spirit and real
Kids would also always wear what is known as the Longevity Lock necklace, which acts like a goodluck charm. The necklace is in the shape of a Ruyi (Everything goes according to one’s wishes) wish well wishes carved onto them and usually made of gold of silver although there were also those made of jade, silk, fabric and other materials. The origin of it is was due to the fact that in the ancient past especially in the Ming dynasty when the government was trying to push for the use of paper currencies, gold and silver were not permitted to be used for transactions, so the rich would then use whatever gold or silver they had to make into accessories instead. Yes, the TV shows probably had us all fooled into thinking the rich could just take out one of the gold ingots in exchange for things, but the reality is gold was only reserved for high officials and royalties, and in the Tang dynasty it was usually gifted by the emperor so you couldn’t just simply give away or use something the emperor bestowed upon you, could you?
The image of young child in red belly wrap with a longevity neck ring on a lotus might remind you of Thumbelina (Chinese version), but these element make up an iconic auspicious image in Chinese tradition, occasionally with an added frog at the bottom of the painting. It was believed that such image would bless you with many sons as lotus is the homophone of “continuous” and its many seeds symbolises fertility–童锁带莲，贵子连连(Child with longevity lock and a lotus, brings you son one after another).
You would probably think of Nezha, or Hong Hai’er (Red Boy of the Bull Demon King from the Journey to the West), now that we put a lotus, the neck rings and the red belly wrap together.
Left: one of the many images of Nezha; Right: then iconic look of the Red Boy
The original idea of Nezha was actually a Zoroastrian god from the Persian culture–Nowzar, a great warrior and hero. Zoroastrian was very openly accepted and practised by Persian migrants to the Tang empire in the 8th to 10th century. Many deities in Chinese Buddhist and Taoist traditions as we know today are absorbed from different cultures outside of China and Nezha is one of them. Buddhism absorbed Nowzar and then Chinese Taoism followed suit in adopting its story, and somewhere down the road we have a fusion of all these different cultural beliefs and many versions of the story.
The Chinese story of Nezha was that of a righteous and impulsive child born into a noble family in the Tang dynasty with superb combat abilities (despite his young age). He got into a fight with one of the dragon kings (there were different dragon kings governing different parts of the seas), and killed him. In order not to implicate his parents for what he did, Nezha stood before the gods and shaved his own flesh and bones, and severed his own limbs as a form of self punishment. Buddha then reassembled and restored his broken body using the lotus roots for his limbs, and revived him.
The image of the Red Boy is somewhat similar, but often depicted with 2 horns or partially shaved head with islands of long hair tied up/braided up. The greatest difference is, Nezha was seen as a hero, a symbol of filial piety and redemption while the red child was seen as a rebellious demon child. I kind of suspect that this is the Chinese’s way of judging a child by their parents–one is of noble blood, another is of demon blood. The Red Boy is simply another fierce and powerful child, who inherited superb combat skills and power from the combination of his parents–the Iron Fan Princess, and Bull Demon King:
The Bull Demon King was originally a white ox, which managed to obtain supernatural powers. His official wife (haha there’s a mistress somewhere down the road) holds the mythical Iron Fan that could extinguish any fire, and notedly the fire from the Flaming Mountain (Xinjiang region today). The Flaming Mountain is supposedly the hottest place in China, with a temperature of 47.8 degrees Celsius during summer and surface heat of up to 89 degrees Celsius! The Tang dynasty people gave it its name–Fire Mountain.
It was unacceptable for grown adults back then to cut their hair due to a Confucian classic on filial piety stating that your hair were gifts from your parents, and you should take good care of it and not harm/damage/destroy it in any way as acts of filial piety. One of the most insulting punishment in those days was to shave their head off, so you can imagine how serious the ancient Chinese took this matter.
But children, they are exceptions to this rule. In fact, they are supposed to have their head shaved within their first month of birth because of the belief that the delivery process has tainted their body with dirty blood and its associated bad luck, so you have to shave them off in order to not offend the deities when the child get out of the dedicated confinement room. And for girls whose dark straight long locks were symbols of beauty, it was believed that shaving the head meant that the baby hair will grow to darker, thicker strands.
To strike a middle ground (very Chinese, this dedication to maintaining the middle ground), their heads were not to be shaved completely. In fact, they should always have a areas of hair that’s left unshaved. And you can imagine the many different styles of such–the ancients surely exercised lots of creativity in styling their children’s hair. In a painting from the Southern Song dynasty in the 12th century (傀儡婴戏图 Children playing with puppets, below), you could see that each of the 4 children had a different hairstyle. Those who tied them up, used a red string for fastening.
傀儡婴戏图 Children playing with puppets by Southern Song artist Liu Song Nian in the 12th century
There are a lot of other symbolism related to the Nian Hua (Chinese woodblock print), children’s apparels (embroideries, shapes, colours) and children’s accessories (the longevity lock’s motif and word engravings, shapes, material) which I won’t go into detail yet (too heavy for the holiday period). I hope that this entry kind of just open up certain understanding of how important dressing up was to the ancient people, and the rich symbolism and meanings that they embed into even the most mundane of things!
Here’s wishing everyone a Happy Chinese New Year of the Ox from #hanfugirl and #hanfubaby! May your year be filled with Auspiciousness like how I’m filling the remaining of this entry with auspicious imageries!
Disclaimer: No child was harmed in the process of the shoot. No make up was applied on her either! It’s all post production 😉
#Hanfugirl 