A Chinese costume fashion show captivated on Saturday the Egyptian audience who highly admired the Chinese designs.
The show, dubbed Silk Road Impression China Fashion Show, was held at the open-air theatre of Cairo's renowned Opera House and was attended by dozens of Chinese and Egyptian visitors.
The show, which was organized by the Chinese Cultural Center in Cairo, featured a large collection of colorful dresses and costumes that represent China and its culture.
Dressed in colorful dresses decorated with Chinese embroidery, Chinese and Egyptian models won the applause of the audience who showed admiration for the Chinese costumes.
"The fashion show is really amazing. The dresses are so beautiful and the colors are eye-catching," Mayar Mahmoud, a college student who came with her friends to attend the fashion show, told Xinhua.
Mahmoud said that it was her first time ever to attend a fashion show, noting that she was lucky enough that it was a Chinese fashion show.
"I loved the dresses, their colors and styles. They look very traditional, but at the same time they suit non-Chinese very much and can be dressed in several occasions," the young lady added.
The designs and colors of the costume did not only grab the attention of fashion lover, but also professional fashion designers.
Egyptian world-class fashion designer Hani Beheiri said that the show was a good message to introduce Chinese fashion to Egypt.
"I loved this fashion show because it reflected the spirit of China and it is really amazing to have such events in Egypt," the renowned fashion designer told Xinhua.
Beheiri noted that this show helped Egyptians know what Chinese fashion designs look like, adding that the collection was breathtaking.
"It showed that Chinese women love colorful silk clothes. Although the collection is generally modern, it bears very unique cultural characteristics that took us back in history," Beheiri said.
Famous Chinese fashion designer and the curator of the show Yang Beibei said the costumes on the show are a series that reflect China's 24 solar terms, which is very important in China's traditional culture.
"I designed one set of clothes for each solar term and decorated them with different flowers and plants according to the seasons. This is very representative of Chinese culture, so I want to show it to the Egyptian friends," she said.
The 24 solar terms, based on the sun's position in the zodiac, were created by farmers in ancient China to guide the agricultural affairs and farming activities.
The 24 solar terms reflect the changes in climate, natural phenomena, agricultural production, and other aspects of human life, including clothing, food, housing, and transportation.
The solar terms play important roles and have greatly influenced people's basic needs in life, and they still have an important function nowadays.
"I invited six Egyptian models and six Chinese models, reflecting the friendship and cultural exchanges between China and Egypt," she said.
"This is my second visit to Egypt. The last time was for an exhibition. I was very happy this time because I came with my designs," the Chinese designer said.
She stressed that Egypt is a country with an ancient civilization, expressing hope that she could integrate the Egyptian culture with the Chinese culture in future designs.
Ancient costume's Blog
Thursday, March 19, 2020
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Laudable aim to revive tradition
THE qipao or cheongsam, with variations in style, are typically worn during Chinese festivals including Chinese New Year.
For something different this year, however, you might want to consider donning the hanfu instead, to usher in the Year of the Boar.
In 2007, non-governmental organisation Young Malaysians Movement (YMM) Taman Sri Petaling branch in Kuala Lumpur started the Hanfu Movement as they were keen to spread awareness of hanfu, Han etiquette and traditional Chinese culture.
YMM member Sin Chen Yeong said most Chinese in Malaysia are of Han descent and hanfu is the traditional outfit of the Han.
“Pioneer YMM members started the movement with hopes that local Chinese would more learn about Chinese culture.
“Many think the cheongsam is traditional Chinese attire, but it is actually Manchurian.
“The form fitting cheongsam you see today is a modified version of the loose-fitting Manchurian qipao.
“Many Han-Chinese adopted the Manchurian hairstyle and clothing to conform and avoid persecution during the Qing dynasty,” he said of the Manchus who were an ethnic minority in China then.
He stressed that YMM was not against wearing the cheongsam as it was also a variation of a Chinese outfit.
“We have nothing against the cheongsam.
“It is a free country and people can dress as they like as it is a personal choice.
“We just want to raise awareness that the hanfu was around even before the cheongsam came about,” said Sin.
He added that while it was nice to see the Malays and Indians wearing their traditional costumes regularly, it was a pity that the Chinese no longer do so.
“We have received positive feedback from other races who think our hanfu is beautiful. Some of them also enjoy trying it on during our events,” Sin said.
Appreciating the hanfuAccording to Sin, hanfu is a general term referring to the clothing of the Chinese, encompassing its many variations, similar to the baju melayu, a general term for Malay clothing.
“The basic form is the ‘Y’ collar.
“This style has also influenced the Japanese and Koreans as they are part of the Sinosphere (East-Asian cultural sphere).
“The robes of monks also have the same collar,” he said.
The was no obvious difference for men and women in the basic design, but women tend to prefer flowery patterns on their hanfu, said Sin, citing examples of theshuheand ruqun.
“It is important to note that the left lapel is draped over the right as the opposite direction is only used when one is deceased,” he said.
Sin also dispelled several misconceptions about the Han.
“Some think the hanfu originated from the Han dynasty, but this is not so. The hanfu was worn by the Han-Chinese throughout the various dynasties up till the end of the Ming dynasty,” he explained.
“People have this notion that the hanfu is bulky, but there are variations, worn according to the four seasons.
“There are even hanfu designs suitable for our hot climate.
“We can opt for cotton and lightweight materials, and a simpler sleeve design (as opposed to the ones with large sleeves),” he said.
Those interested in getting a hanfu can either get it tailor-made or purchased online, Sin shared.
“Previously, we could only get it from China, but these days, there are local tailors who are able to make the hanfu.
“Most Malaysian tailors are skilled in western cutting for clothes.
“To make a hanfu, you need tailors who know how to follow oriental designs and sew the clothes properly,” said Sin.
He was happy to see more people were embracing the hanfu, and the trend is growing.
“Of late, I have noticed people wearing the hanfu in areas where we have not been to promote them.
“Like in Melaka where I am from, I have noticed people wearing the hanfu.
“Some may think only the older generation are interested in traditional culture, but we were surprised to see youths joining us as they are interested to learn about more Chinese culture too.”
He added, “Ten years ago, you would get stares if you wear a hanfu, but in recent years, there has been more acceptance among the public.
“Some people mistake the hanfu for the traditional Japanese yukata or kimono, or the Korean hanbok,” he said.
He also related an incident where he was once mistaken for a monk in Melaka when wearing a hanfu to a Chinese temple.
“The temple caretaker thought I was a monk and clasped his hands together to greet me!” he laughed.
Traditional greeting stylesAside from clothes, the members also showed several ways of greeting people in the olden days.
The common form is gong shou, whereby one hand is wrapped over the fist, similar to how one would wish gong xi gong xi during Chinese New Year.
For men, the practice is to wrap the left hand over the right while for women, it is the other way round.
Ping yi is another greeting gesture, similar to gong shou except the palms are open and face inwards, not clenched into a fist like the gong shou.
A more formal way is to have your arms stretched further.
YMM Taman Sri Petaling branch chairman Wong Chin Loong said to promote hanfu and Chinese culture, the association organises several activities throughout the year such as etiquette workshops, hanfu tailoring workshops, archery classes and an annual cultural camp.
These activities are usually held in August or September.
The association will have its annual Han Feast in March to raise awareness of Chinese dining etiquette.
For something different this year, however, you might want to consider donning the hanfu instead, to usher in the Year of the Boar.
In 2007, non-governmental organisation Young Malaysians Movement (YMM) Taman Sri Petaling branch in Kuala Lumpur started the Hanfu Movement as they were keen to spread awareness of hanfu, Han etiquette and traditional Chinese culture.
YMM member Sin Chen Yeong said most Chinese in Malaysia are of Han descent and hanfu is the traditional outfit of the Han.
“Pioneer YMM members started the movement with hopes that local Chinese would more learn about Chinese culture.
“Many think the cheongsam is traditional Chinese attire, but it is actually Manchurian.
“The form fitting cheongsam you see today is a modified version of the loose-fitting Manchurian qipao.
“Many Han-Chinese adopted the Manchurian hairstyle and clothing to conform and avoid persecution during the Qing dynasty,” he said of the Manchus who were an ethnic minority in China then.
He stressed that YMM was not against wearing the cheongsam as it was also a variation of a Chinese outfit.
“We have nothing against the cheongsam.
“It is a free country and people can dress as they like as it is a personal choice.
“We just want to raise awareness that the hanfu was around even before the cheongsam came about,” said Sin.
He added that while it was nice to see the Malays and Indians wearing their traditional costumes regularly, it was a pity that the Chinese no longer do so.
“We have received positive feedback from other races who think our hanfu is beautiful. Some of them also enjoy trying it on during our events,” Sin said.
Appreciating the hanfuAccording to Sin, hanfu is a general term referring to the clothing of the Chinese, encompassing its many variations, similar to the baju melayu, a general term for Malay clothing.
“The basic form is the ‘Y’ collar.
“This style has also influenced the Japanese and Koreans as they are part of the Sinosphere (East-Asian cultural sphere).
“The robes of monks also have the same collar,” he said.
The was no obvious difference for men and women in the basic design, but women tend to prefer flowery patterns on their hanfu, said Sin, citing examples of theshuheand ruqun.
“It is important to note that the left lapel is draped over the right as the opposite direction is only used when one is deceased,” he said.
Sin also dispelled several misconceptions about the Han.
“Some think the hanfu originated from the Han dynasty, but this is not so. The hanfu was worn by the Han-Chinese throughout the various dynasties up till the end of the Ming dynasty,” he explained.
“People have this notion that the hanfu is bulky, but there are variations, worn according to the four seasons.
“There are even hanfu designs suitable for our hot climate.
“We can opt for cotton and lightweight materials, and a simpler sleeve design (as opposed to the ones with large sleeves),” he said.
Those interested in getting a hanfu can either get it tailor-made or purchased online, Sin shared.
“Previously, we could only get it from China, but these days, there are local tailors who are able to make the hanfu.
“Most Malaysian tailors are skilled in western cutting for clothes.
“To make a hanfu, you need tailors who know how to follow oriental designs and sew the clothes properly,” said Sin.
He was happy to see more people were embracing the hanfu, and the trend is growing.
“Of late, I have noticed people wearing the hanfu in areas where we have not been to promote them.
“Like in Melaka where I am from, I have noticed people wearing the hanfu.
“Some may think only the older generation are interested in traditional culture, but we were surprised to see youths joining us as they are interested to learn about more Chinese culture too.”
He added, “Ten years ago, you would get stares if you wear a hanfu, but in recent years, there has been more acceptance among the public.
“Some people mistake the hanfu for the traditional Japanese yukata or kimono, or the Korean hanbok,” he said.
He also related an incident where he was once mistaken for a monk in Melaka when wearing a hanfu to a Chinese temple.
“The temple caretaker thought I was a monk and clasped his hands together to greet me!” he laughed.
Traditional greeting stylesAside from clothes, the members also showed several ways of greeting people in the olden days.
The common form is gong shou, whereby one hand is wrapped over the fist, similar to how one would wish gong xi gong xi during Chinese New Year.
For men, the practice is to wrap the left hand over the right while for women, it is the other way round.
Ping yi is another greeting gesture, similar to gong shou except the palms are open and face inwards, not clenched into a fist like the gong shou.
A more formal way is to have your arms stretched further.
YMM Taman Sri Petaling branch chairman Wong Chin Loong said to promote hanfu and Chinese culture, the association organises several activities throughout the year such as etiquette workshops, hanfu tailoring workshops, archery classes and an annual cultural camp.
These activities are usually held in August or September.
The association will have its annual Han Feast in March to raise awareness of Chinese dining etiquette.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
The Power, the Intrigue, the Clothes
Now that the awful heat is moderating, it’s time to ask: What was the most popular cultural phenomenon of the summer? Hint: It wasn’t “Crazy Rich Asians,” and it wasn’t the computer-animated “Incredibles 2,” despite its billion-dollar gross. Think bigger: The summer’s hottest property was “Story of Yanxi Palace” — a TV costume drama on a Chinese streaming service, whose tales of scheming empresses and backstabbing concubines in 18th-century Beijing have been watched 17 billion times, according to Maoyan, the Chinese online ticketing and statistics provider, or more than twice for every person on earth. Its ratings crush America’s most viewed shows dozens of times over, and “Story of Yanxi Palace” has had knock-on effects throughout China: for one, it’s filliped attendance at Beijing’s Palace Museum, housed in the Forbidden City where those aristocratic women preened and conspired.
You can stream the 70 episodes of “Story of Yanxi Palace” at your leisure, but you don’t have to go all the way to Beijing to discover the luxe lives of the Qing dynasty’s imperial women. Their gowns, their jewelry, their religious accouterments and the paintings they appreciated can now be found here in Massachusetts, in “Empresses of China’s Forbidden City”: a huge and opulent exhibition at the Peabody Essex Museum that excavates the lives of women behind the Forbidden City walls. The objects here date from the late 17th century to the foundation of the republic in 1912, and almost 200 of them are on loan from the Palace Museum, the bulk never before seen in the United States.
For all its splendor, “Empresses” is a gratifyingly rigorous show. Qing-era historians left only bare-bones outlines of women’s lives, and both the exhibition and a hefty catalog use clothing, paintings and the decorative arts to fill in big gaps in the Chinese historical record. It opens with a grand evocation of an imperial wedding in 1889, when the Guangxu emperor married the young Xiaoding in a midnight ceremony. One of Xiaoding’s silk wedding gowns is here, and its awesome detailing, from the roundels of gold dragons and phoenixes on the body to the groovy multicolored waves on its hem, signify her ascent to mother of the nation. In five paintings on paper, which make use of wonky, half-mastered western perspective, we see Xiaoding borne through the Forbidden City on a palanquin adorned with peacock feathers; courtiers and servants have packed the gardens and pavilions, and everyone is preparing for the court’s new calculus of power and prestige.
Each Qing emperor had several wives, only one of whom would be classed as “empress.” She sat atop a hierarchy of eight levels of imperial women, ranging from beloved consorts to concubines to glorified servants; above the empress herself was her mother-in-law, the dowager empress, who effectively picked her son’s brides. One’s place in the imperial harem was signified by exacting differentials in privileges: how many servants you got, what plates you could eat off and what colors you could wear. Only the empress, the empress dowager, and consorts of the second rank could wear the bright yellow gown here from the later 18th century, made of gleaming satin and bedecked with dragons and clouds of metal-wrapped silk.
The empress and top-tier consorts would also express rank through jewelry, whether ornate jade hairpins or tortoiseshell bangles that clinked on the arms. They also got the best shoes — the Qing elite were Manchus, from the northeast of China, and did not bind women’s feet. One extraordinary pair of pearl-festooned platform boots here, to be worn on horseback, would not have been out of place on “Soul Train.”
Though they sat at the heart of Chinese influence, the women at the Qing court were classified as the emperor’s “inalienable possessions.” Your best bet for moving up the ladder was to bear a son — since the imperial succession was merit-based, and any of the emperor’s boys could be his heir. A scroll painting here from around 1844 depicts the Daoguang emperor sitting beside a woman with a pinched faced and calm smile. Her name was Quan, and she entered the Forbidden City at the bottom of the heap, but was elevated in the imperial harem after giving birth to a boy. Check out the dress: she’s wearing yellow, and therefore has made it to the top.
Some empresses had little to no romantic attachment to the emperor, while others formed deep attachments to the monarch. The Qianlong emperor, one of China’s greatest cultural patrons, married the empress Xiaoxian before he ascended to the throne, and when she died young in 1748 he wrote an aching funeral elegy for her in watery, grief-haunted calligraphy. Yet this exhibition — like the hit soap opera “Story of Yanxi Palace” — is ultimately not about love but about power: how to get power, how to wield power, and how to maintain power in circumstances not propitious for your gender.
No one did it better than Cixi, the dowager empress and de facto ruler of China for much of the later 19th century. She too came up from the lower ranks of consorts after giving birth to a boy, and when her husband died she installed herself as her son’s regent, remaking Chinese politics in the process. Almost all the images of other empresses in this show would not have been seen outside the Forbidden City, but Cixi employed the newly arrived technology of photography to burnish her standing; at the dawn of the new century she posed in a resplendent silk robe, towers of plums by her side, the picture of stability. She also cunningly used religious imagery to solidify her status. One bizarre painting here depicts her as a bodhisattva, riding through the sea on a bed of lotus petals.
Cixi also cultivated foreign supporters, and this show closes with a large, Art Nouveau-ish portrait of Cixi by the American painter Katharine A. Carl, which she commissioned to charm American audiences after the anti-foreign Boxer Rebellion. Deathly two-dimensional, the painting shows Cixi in extreme stillness; pearls cascade down her neckline, and on her hands are green press-on fingernails as long as eagles’ talons. As a work of art, it’s ghastly. As a work of political craftsmanship, it is knavishly impressive.
“Empresses” has been organized by Daisy Yiyou Wang, a curator at the Peabody Essex, and Jan Stuart, a curator at the Freer and Sackler Galleries in Washington, to which this show will travel next year. It runs through February though the Palace Museum’s loan restrictions will require the curators to rotate new objects at the Peabody Essex in November and to send some of its current prizes back home. Whether you catch this cycle or the next, this is a rare glimpse of collections we rarely see in the United States — and as the world’s two superpowers butt heads, collaborations between Chinese and American museums deserve all the support they can get.
You can stream the 70 episodes of “Story of Yanxi Palace” at your leisure, but you don’t have to go all the way to Beijing to discover the luxe lives of the Qing dynasty’s imperial women. Their gowns, their jewelry, their religious accouterments and the paintings they appreciated can now be found here in Massachusetts, in “Empresses of China’s Forbidden City”: a huge and opulent exhibition at the Peabody Essex Museum that excavates the lives of women behind the Forbidden City walls. The objects here date from the late 17th century to the foundation of the republic in 1912, and almost 200 of them are on loan from the Palace Museum, the bulk never before seen in the United States.
For all its splendor, “Empresses” is a gratifyingly rigorous show. Qing-era historians left only bare-bones outlines of women’s lives, and both the exhibition and a hefty catalog use clothing, paintings and the decorative arts to fill in big gaps in the Chinese historical record. It opens with a grand evocation of an imperial wedding in 1889, when the Guangxu emperor married the young Xiaoding in a midnight ceremony. One of Xiaoding’s silk wedding gowns is here, and its awesome detailing, from the roundels of gold dragons and phoenixes on the body to the groovy multicolored waves on its hem, signify her ascent to mother of the nation. In five paintings on paper, which make use of wonky, half-mastered western perspective, we see Xiaoding borne through the Forbidden City on a palanquin adorned with peacock feathers; courtiers and servants have packed the gardens and pavilions, and everyone is preparing for the court’s new calculus of power and prestige.
Each Qing emperor had several wives, only one of whom would be classed as “empress.” She sat atop a hierarchy of eight levels of imperial women, ranging from beloved consorts to concubines to glorified servants; above the empress herself was her mother-in-law, the dowager empress, who effectively picked her son’s brides. One’s place in the imperial harem was signified by exacting differentials in privileges: how many servants you got, what plates you could eat off and what colors you could wear. Only the empress, the empress dowager, and consorts of the second rank could wear the bright yellow gown here from the later 18th century, made of gleaming satin and bedecked with dragons and clouds of metal-wrapped silk.
The empress and top-tier consorts would also express rank through jewelry, whether ornate jade hairpins or tortoiseshell bangles that clinked on the arms. They also got the best shoes — the Qing elite were Manchus, from the northeast of China, and did not bind women’s feet. One extraordinary pair of pearl-festooned platform boots here, to be worn on horseback, would not have been out of place on “Soul Train.”
Though they sat at the heart of Chinese influence, the women at the Qing court were classified as the emperor’s “inalienable possessions.” Your best bet for moving up the ladder was to bear a son — since the imperial succession was merit-based, and any of the emperor’s boys could be his heir. A scroll painting here from around 1844 depicts the Daoguang emperor sitting beside a woman with a pinched faced and calm smile. Her name was Quan, and she entered the Forbidden City at the bottom of the heap, but was elevated in the imperial harem after giving birth to a boy. Check out the dress: she’s wearing yellow, and therefore has made it to the top.
Some empresses had little to no romantic attachment to the emperor, while others formed deep attachments to the monarch. The Qianlong emperor, one of China’s greatest cultural patrons, married the empress Xiaoxian before he ascended to the throne, and when she died young in 1748 he wrote an aching funeral elegy for her in watery, grief-haunted calligraphy. Yet this exhibition — like the hit soap opera “Story of Yanxi Palace” — is ultimately not about love but about power: how to get power, how to wield power, and how to maintain power in circumstances not propitious for your gender.
No one did it better than Cixi, the dowager empress and de facto ruler of China for much of the later 19th century. She too came up from the lower ranks of consorts after giving birth to a boy, and when her husband died she installed herself as her son’s regent, remaking Chinese politics in the process. Almost all the images of other empresses in this show would not have been seen outside the Forbidden City, but Cixi employed the newly arrived technology of photography to burnish her standing; at the dawn of the new century she posed in a resplendent silk robe, towers of plums by her side, the picture of stability. She also cunningly used religious imagery to solidify her status. One bizarre painting here depicts her as a bodhisattva, riding through the sea on a bed of lotus petals.
Cixi also cultivated foreign supporters, and this show closes with a large, Art Nouveau-ish portrait of Cixi by the American painter Katharine A. Carl, which she commissioned to charm American audiences after the anti-foreign Boxer Rebellion. Deathly two-dimensional, the painting shows Cixi in extreme stillness; pearls cascade down her neckline, and on her hands are green press-on fingernails as long as eagles’ talons. As a work of art, it’s ghastly. As a work of political craftsmanship, it is knavishly impressive.
“Empresses” has been organized by Daisy Yiyou Wang, a curator at the Peabody Essex, and Jan Stuart, a curator at the Freer and Sackler Galleries in Washington, to which this show will travel next year. It runs through February though the Palace Museum’s loan restrictions will require the curators to rotate new objects at the Peabody Essex in November and to send some of its current prizes back home. Whether you catch this cycle or the next, this is a rare glimpse of collections we rarely see in the United States — and as the world’s two superpowers butt heads, collaborations between Chinese and American museums deserve all the support they can get.
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Travel Back in Time to China's Glorious Past Dynasties With Han Couture
China, with its 5,000 years of civilization, was once known as “Shen Zhou,” which translates to The Divine Land. It was said that the deities passed down this rich culture from the heavens, including music, medicine, calligraphy, and beautiful attire.
Most people perceive the “qipao” to be the quintessence of traditional Chinese dresses, but in fact, the qipao is the traditional clothing of the Manchus, and not the Han Chinese. Moreover, the modern qipao is very different from the traditional version.
The Han race is the largest ethnic group in China, and the Han have their own traditional clothing called “Hanfu,” or Han couture, which has been around for more than 3,000 years. Han couture almost disappeared following the Manchus taking power over China in 1644, when the Qing Dynasty was established.
Han couture, which includes prominent design styles from the prosperous Song Dynasty (960–1279 C.E.), to the magnificent Tang Dynasty (618–907 C.E.), one can appreciate each dynasty’s spirit embodied within. Han couture took on different styles with each dynasty due to the differences in cultural ideas and values.
Imagine traveling back in time by wearing the traditional clothes from China’s past dynasties? Would we be able to rediscover the nearly lost glorious culture that once flourished in the land of China, as well as the virtues that were prized dynasty after dynasty?
Envision yourself wearing one of the most popular classic dresses of the Tang Dynasty, the “Qi Xiong Ru Qun,” in which the short shirt jacket is tucked inside the high-waisted skirt. The skirt is tied very high up on the chest and under the armpits.
With the big-sleeved shirt, and the skirt that flows gracefully down from the chest, it produces both a majestic and slimming effect, making one look elegant and more slender.
Influenced by Confucian ideas of propriety, the people of the Song Dynasty favored simpler, more reserved, and delicate styles with narrow sleeves.
Picture yourself donning a Song-style Ruqun dress, which consists of a blouse, and a wrap-around skirt, and Beizi, and a knee-length outer jacket with a straight collar.
The pleated skirt looks very feminine, and the soft, delicate pattern exudes a quiet and refined charm.
During the Ming Dynasty (1368 to 1644 C.E.), dignified, subdued fashion was preferred.
Ming Dynasty clothing was influenced by the Mongol-led Yuan Dynasty.
Thus, when putting on the prominent dressing of the Ming Dynasty, the “Ao Qun,” in which a loose and billowing shirt is tucked outside an embroidered skirt with pleats, (unlike previous dynasties), you’ll feel it resembles the Korean Hanbok.
In traditional Chinese men’s attire, hats defined a man’s status, and robes were made for every occasion.
Scholars and officials wore high hats. Also, their sleeves were wider and the “yi” (a narrow-cuffed, knee-length tunic), was fastened with a wide belt adorned with jade ornaments.
The higher the status, the more complex and flamboyant the garments, and the more ornaments they displayed in their attire.
Though each dynasty had its unique styles, its basic style and characteristics remained the same.
Han couture generally includes a jacket for the upper garment and an ankle-length skirt for the lower garment; and the collar was always folded over to the right, implying the harmonizing of Yang (positive force) over Yin (negative force).
Interestingly, each aspect of Han couture has its inner meanings.
According to an NTD video, it states, “The large circular cuffs represents a round heavenly path,” while the straight seam in the middle of the back of the dress signifies “humans walking between heaven and earth” or “righteousness,” and the tied waistband “is a symbol of humans being tied to the heavenly rules.”
As stated in a report by PureInsight.org, the ancient Chinese hung a piece of jade on their belt to remind themselves to behave properly. According to Confucianism, jade represents the virtues of courage, wisdom, modesty, justice and compassion.
You may have already felt so yourself, and that is, an outfit can change a person from the outside in.
There’s no denying that these timeless garments, inspired by the divine, will bring about an air of refinement, graciousness, and dignity in the wearer.
Most people perceive the “qipao” to be the quintessence of traditional Chinese dresses, but in fact, the qipao is the traditional clothing of the Manchus, and not the Han Chinese. Moreover, the modern qipao is very different from the traditional version.
The Han race is the largest ethnic group in China, and the Han have their own traditional clothing called “Hanfu,” or Han couture, which has been around for more than 3,000 years. Han couture almost disappeared following the Manchus taking power over China in 1644, when the Qing Dynasty was established.
Han couture, which includes prominent design styles from the prosperous Song Dynasty (960–1279 C.E.), to the magnificent Tang Dynasty (618–907 C.E.), one can appreciate each dynasty’s spirit embodied within. Han couture took on different styles with each dynasty due to the differences in cultural ideas and values.
Imagine traveling back in time by wearing the traditional clothes from China’s past dynasties? Would we be able to rediscover the nearly lost glorious culture that once flourished in the land of China, as well as the virtues that were prized dynasty after dynasty?
Envision yourself wearing one of the most popular classic dresses of the Tang Dynasty, the “Qi Xiong Ru Qun,” in which the short shirt jacket is tucked inside the high-waisted skirt. The skirt is tied very high up on the chest and under the armpits.
With the big-sleeved shirt, and the skirt that flows gracefully down from the chest, it produces both a majestic and slimming effect, making one look elegant and more slender.
Influenced by Confucian ideas of propriety, the people of the Song Dynasty favored simpler, more reserved, and delicate styles with narrow sleeves.
Picture yourself donning a Song-style Ruqun dress, which consists of a blouse, and a wrap-around skirt, and Beizi, and a knee-length outer jacket with a straight collar.
The pleated skirt looks very feminine, and the soft, delicate pattern exudes a quiet and refined charm.
During the Ming Dynasty (1368 to 1644 C.E.), dignified, subdued fashion was preferred.
Ming Dynasty clothing was influenced by the Mongol-led Yuan Dynasty.
Thus, when putting on the prominent dressing of the Ming Dynasty, the “Ao Qun,” in which a loose and billowing shirt is tucked outside an embroidered skirt with pleats, (unlike previous dynasties), you’ll feel it resembles the Korean Hanbok.
In traditional Chinese men’s attire, hats defined a man’s status, and robes were made for every occasion.
Scholars and officials wore high hats. Also, their sleeves were wider and the “yi” (a narrow-cuffed, knee-length tunic), was fastened with a wide belt adorned with jade ornaments.
The higher the status, the more complex and flamboyant the garments, and the more ornaments they displayed in their attire.
Though each dynasty had its unique styles, its basic style and characteristics remained the same.
Han couture generally includes a jacket for the upper garment and an ankle-length skirt for the lower garment; and the collar was always folded over to the right, implying the harmonizing of Yang (positive force) over Yin (negative force).
Interestingly, each aspect of Han couture has its inner meanings.
According to an NTD video, it states, “The large circular cuffs represents a round heavenly path,” while the straight seam in the middle of the back of the dress signifies “humans walking between heaven and earth” or “righteousness,” and the tied waistband “is a symbol of humans being tied to the heavenly rules.”
As stated in a report by PureInsight.org, the ancient Chinese hung a piece of jade on their belt to remind themselves to behave properly. According to Confucianism, jade represents the virtues of courage, wisdom, modesty, justice and compassion.
You may have already felt so yourself, and that is, an outfit can change a person from the outside in.
There’s no denying that these timeless garments, inspired by the divine, will bring about an air of refinement, graciousness, and dignity in the wearer.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
The Manchurian Princess
The princesses of the Manchurian court and maidens of noble families were a signature sight of China’s last dynasty, the Qing (1644-1911 C.E.). These ladies wore elaborate headdresses, elevated shoes, and long qipao gowns with lavish embellishments along with their collars, hems, and slits made of heavy satin or silk. Perhaps for every fashionista, beauty comes at a price, and this was indeed the case for Manchurian women.
Manchurian ladies wore huge fan-shaped headdresses decorated with flowers on the front and back, with two strings of tassels running down each side. What’s more, the ladies’ pedestal shoes had “heels” in the middle of the footwear, which forced them to walk in tiny steps while gently swinging their arms to and fro. Sewn with beautiful floral designs and patterns, the shoes are made and set atop an elevated base creating a flower-pot effect; hence they’re called “flower-pot shoes.”
Now, it’s important we don’t confuse between the Manchurian and Chinese qipaos. These two qipaos have similar designs but are strikingly different in terms of style. The Chinese qipao originated from Shanghai and became popular during the 20th century. They were evening dresses for women and were designed to be sleeveless and tight-fitted. The Manchurian qipao, however, is attire that could be worn in all seasons. Greatly adorned and made with satin or silk, these one-piece dresses ran from the collar down to the ankle, with a small opening down the side of the calves. The dresses are also worn with matching pants, ensuring only the head, hands, and feet are exposed. In the winter, Manchurian qipao also often embeds cotton or fur to keep the ladies warm.
So, what exactly are these ladies called? Their title, “ge-ge,” originated from a Manchurian term meaning “miss” or “lady.” Ge-ge are known, even to this day, for holding themselves with dignified grace and beauty while strolling the halls of the Manchurian court. They presented perfect posture and etiquette, greeting their superiors with a gentle toss of their hand-held silk handkerchief, or curtsying on the side to express respect. In public view, the ge-ge were a symbol of ultimate beauty and elegance, so they always had to be mindful of their every move to stay graceful.
With such high demands, perhaps the happiest time in the day of these ladies was when they took off their flower-pot shoes. Yet, this way of life was also deeply rewarding for themselves and inspiring for those who looked upon them and admired the purity of their beauty.
An Elegant Manchurian Bookmark
What better way to capture the image of Manchurian grace than your favorite page holder? Featuring a beautifully colored silhouette of a Manchurian princess on 24K gold, this ultra-thin and ultra-light bookmark comes with a tassel that will conveniently help you pick up right where you left off. Stylistic and practical, this bookmark will surely be any bookworm’s best friend.
Manchurian ladies wore huge fan-shaped headdresses decorated with flowers on the front and back, with two strings of tassels running down each side. What’s more, the ladies’ pedestal shoes had “heels” in the middle of the footwear, which forced them to walk in tiny steps while gently swinging their arms to and fro. Sewn with beautiful floral designs and patterns, the shoes are made and set atop an elevated base creating a flower-pot effect; hence they’re called “flower-pot shoes.”
Now, it’s important we don’t confuse between the Manchurian and Chinese qipaos. These two qipaos have similar designs but are strikingly different in terms of style. The Chinese qipao originated from Shanghai and became popular during the 20th century. They were evening dresses for women and were designed to be sleeveless and tight-fitted. The Manchurian qipao, however, is attire that could be worn in all seasons. Greatly adorned and made with satin or silk, these one-piece dresses ran from the collar down to the ankle, with a small opening down the side of the calves. The dresses are also worn with matching pants, ensuring only the head, hands, and feet are exposed. In the winter, Manchurian qipao also often embeds cotton or fur to keep the ladies warm.
So, what exactly are these ladies called? Their title, “ge-ge,” originated from a Manchurian term meaning “miss” or “lady.” Ge-ge are known, even to this day, for holding themselves with dignified grace and beauty while strolling the halls of the Manchurian court. They presented perfect posture and etiquette, greeting their superiors with a gentle toss of their hand-held silk handkerchief, or curtsying on the side to express respect. In public view, the ge-ge were a symbol of ultimate beauty and elegance, so they always had to be mindful of their every move to stay graceful.
With such high demands, perhaps the happiest time in the day of these ladies was when they took off their flower-pot shoes. Yet, this way of life was also deeply rewarding for themselves and inspiring for those who looked upon them and admired the purity of their beauty.
An Elegant Manchurian Bookmark
What better way to capture the image of Manchurian grace than your favorite page holder? Featuring a beautifully colored silhouette of a Manchurian princess on 24K gold, this ultra-thin and ultra-light bookmark comes with a tassel that will conveniently help you pick up right where you left off. Stylistic and practical, this bookmark will surely be any bookworm’s best friend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)