The Cloak: Style vs. Practicality in Historical and Modern Dramas

If there’s one thing historical dramas love, it’s a good cloak. Flowing, dramatic, and effortlessly elegant, the cloak has become a staple in costume design, draping over generals, scholars, and noblewomen alike. But as striking as they look on screen, one can’t help but wonder—do these cloaks actually keep anyone warm?

Take Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜) as an example. The protagonist, Mei Changsu (梅长苏), spends most of his time wrapped in thick fur-lined cloaks, yet somehow, he always looks like he’s one chilly breeze away from freezing solid. Viewers have joked that he must have succumbed to hypothermia long before the series’ dramatic conclusion. So what’s the deal? Are these cloaks truly as impractical as they seem, or is there more to their historical evolution?

Cloaks in Costume Design

Cloaks have long been favored by costume designers for their cinematic effect. They add movement to a character, create an air of mystery, and make even the most unassuming figure look imposing. In Nirvana in Fire, Mei Changsu’s fur-lined cloaks emphasize his frailty while still giving him an air of quiet authority. But do these garments serve their intended function, or are they just glorified fashion statements?

The answer, unfortunately, leans toward the latter. While fur trim may give the illusion of warmth, the reality is that most of these cloaks are ill-equipped for actual cold weather. They lack sleeves, which means wind easily seeps through, and their loose fit makes them prone to billowing—turning their wearer into a walking sail on particularly blustery days.

Historical Precedents: Did Cloaks Ever Work?

It’s tempting to believe that these designs were inspired by actual historical garments, but the truth is a little more complicated. Many people compare Mei Changsu’s wardrobe to the clothing seen in the Northern Qi (北齐) murals, particularly the depiction of Xu Xianxiu (徐显秀) and his fur-trimmed outerwear. However, key differences set them apart. For one, Xu Xianxiu’s attire features visible animal tails—something entirely absent in Nirvana in Fire. More importantly, what he wore wasn’t even a cloak—it had sleeves, making it a far more practical choice for winter wear.

The real issue is that the historical record on cloaks is surprisingly thin. Unlike other well-documented traditional garments, the existence of long, flowing cloaks in ancient China is largely debated. Most surviving examples come from the Qing Dynasty (清代), when double-layered designs emerged. These featured an inner cotton-padded vest attached to an outer cloak, effectively combining insulation with wind resistance. Yet, even this design was far removed from the sleeveless, free-flowing garments we see in modern period dramas.

The Modern Cloak Obsession

Despite their questionable practicality, cloaks have enjoyed a resurgence in popularity, both in film and real life. Costume designers continue to feature them in historical dramas, elevating their aesthetic value over their actual function. And audiences love them—after all, a well-draped cloak can transform anyone into a mysterious hero or an elegant noble.

The real reason behind this obsession? Cloaks flatter everyone. They frame the face, hide body shape imperfections, and create an effortlessly regal silhouette. It’s no wonder they’ve become a go-to choice for actors and designers alike. However, anyone who has tried wearing one in real life will quickly realize their flaws. They require constant adjustments to prevent cold air from seeping in, and their impracticality becomes glaringly obvious when walking in the wind.

So, while cloaks may be visually stunning, they probably aren’t the best choice for anyone hoping to stay warm. Mei Changsu, for all his intelligence and strategy, might have fared better with a few extra layers. But then again, where’s the drama in that?