NEWHANFU

If you’ve ever wandered into the comments section of a Chinese historical drama, there’s a good chance you’ve seen someone ranting about whether the actors are wearing their robes “correctly.” And by “correctly,” they often mean one of two things: first, is the hair tied up or left loose? And second, is the robe crossing left-over-right (zuo ren, 左衽) or right-over-left (you ren, 右衽)? This second one—zuo ren—is where things get weirdly intense. What Does “Zuo Ren” Actually Mean? So what’s the big deal with zuo ren? Technically, it refers to the way a garment crosses over the body. If the left side overlaps the right, that’s zuo ren. Right over left? That’s you ren, which is traditionally considered “correct” in Han Chinese dress. Confucius (孔子) even name-dropped zuo ren in the Analects (论语) , saying that if not for the statesman Guan Zhong (管仲) , “we’d all be wearing our hair down and robes crossed the wrong way”—basically, we’d be living like barbarians. Which sounds dramatic. But here’s the thing: even in Confucius’s time, not everyone outside the Central Plains actually wore zuo ren. For example, the people of Chu (楚国) —a powerful southern state considered “semi-barbaric” at the…...

It’s funny how we throw around the word “Dunhuang” like it’s a single, well-defined thing. For most people, it’s synonymous with the Mogao Caves—those dusty, majestic Buddhist grottos in the far-flung desert of northwestern China. But Dunhuang (敦煌) is less of a place and more of a time capsule layered with over a thousand years of belief, brushstrokes, and guesswork. It isn’t just one cave, one dynasty, or one style. It's an ecosystem of art, faith, and faded colors—held together by sand and memory. Let’s clear one thing up first: Dunhuang isn’t just the Mogao Caves. It includes the Yulin Caves (榆林窟), the Western Thousand Buddha Caves (西千佛洞), and even more obscure clusters like the Five Temple Caves (五个庙石窟). It's more accurate to call it the Dunhuang Grotto Complex—a network of spiritual and artistic experimentation that unfolded across centuries. Not Just Tang Dynasty Grandeur We love to associate Dunhuang with the Tang Dynasty (唐朝)—maybe because the Tang's cultural glamor fits so neatly with the image of heavenly bodhisattvas strumming pipa mid-air. But that's a postcard version of Dunhuang. In truth, the site saw activity from the 4th to the 14th century, spanning dynasties like the Northern Wei (北魏), Sui (隋),…...

When we think of ancient Chinese clothing, one of the first things that come to mind might be the iconic "y"-shaped collars seen in many historical dramas. These images, often simplified for visual appeal, don’t quite capture the complexity and diversity of collar styles throughout China’s long history. From the loose, expansive collars of the Northern Dynasties to the structured, high collars of the Ming and Qing periods, the evolution of the collar is a testament to both fashion and function. A Closer Look at the "Big Collar" Trend The concept of the "big collar" in Chinese historical attire is intriguing because it defies many modern expectations about what a collar should look like. Rather than being a rigid feature of the garment, the collar often served as a playful and dynamic part of the outfit’s overall structure. Take, for instance, the mural from the tomb of Xu Xianxiu (徐显秀) of the Northern Qi (北齐) Dynasty. The image depicts his wife wearing an outfit with an unusually large collar that seems far from the typical “cross-collar” or “y”-shaped design that we expect from Chinese traditional garments. At first glance, the garment worn by Xu Xianxiu’s wife might look like a…...

There’s a certain kind of outfit that turns heads, not just because it’s beautiful, but because it leaves people wondering: Is this really how ancient people dressed? Enter the Qixiong Ruqun (齐胸襦裙), a style of Hanfu where the skirt is tied all the way up to the chest—sometimes even under the armpits. It’s dramatic. It’s feminine. And it’s sparked years of debate over whether it’s based on history or pure fantasy. The Rise of a Silhouette That Defies Gravity At a glance, the Qixiong Ruqun feels like a distant cousin of the Korean Chima Jeogori—a wide-skirted dress worn high on the torso, paired with a short jacket. In fact, when you fluff out the skirt and widen the waistband, the two styles can look eerily similar. But the rabbit hole runs deeper than visual resemblance. Questions around the Qixiong Ruqun don’t just come down to aesthetics. They ask something more fundamental: How do you even keep this thing from sliding down? Anyone who’s tried wearing one has likely felt that awkward sensation—the pull of gravity on a waistband that doesn’t seem to be anchored to anything solid. It’s not a minor wardrobe inconvenience. It’s a design flaw. And it’s raised…...

If you opened your wardrobe today and found not a single pair of pants, chances are you'd be horrified. Pants are so essential to modern life that we rarely stop to think about their origins. But dig a little into the dusty archives of history—or better yet, into ancient tombs—and you’ll discover that the invention of pants was not only a practical breakthrough but a sartorial milestone born from the needs of a changing world. Layers, Loops, and Crotches: How Ancient Chinese Dressed Forget the meme-worthy myths about ancient Chinese courtiers inventing pants to manipulate palace intrigue. There’s a rumor that during the Western Han dynasty, a powerful official named Huo Guang (霍光) came up with the idea of pants with crotches to help his granddaughter win the emperor’s favor by sabotaging the rest of the harem. Entertaining? Absolutely. True? Not really. The real story is messier, more fascinating, and rooted in functionality. The word “pants” in ancient China didn’t mean what it means now. You had “ku (袴 or 绔),” which referred to garments covering the lower leg, basically like gaiters or leg warmers. Then there was “kun (裈),” which were crotched garments that wrapped the lower body and…...

Silhouettes Through the Ages In Tang Dynasty China, women’s fashion followed a consistent formula: a layered ensemble of shan (衫, a short top), ru (襦, a lined jacket), ku (袴, trousers or leggings), and qun (裙, skirts), often draped with a long, flowing pei (帔, a silk stole). But like modern trends, styles evolved—shifting from slim, fitted cuts in the early Tang to voluminous, relaxed silhouettes by the late Tang. This piece traces the evolution of women’s fashion across the Sui, Tang, and Five Dynasties. Each section opens with a vignette inspired by legendary figures—like the runaway courtesan Hongfu (红拂), the politically savvy Shangguan Wan’er (上官婉儿), or the tragic beauty Yang Yuhuan (杨玉环)—paired with reconstructions of their likely outfits. Drawing from archaeological finds, paintings, and sculptures, we’ve pieced together how these women might have dressed. But first, a primer on Tang textiles. The Fabric of Tang Fashion Silk fabrics were woven from intersecting threads: jing (经, warp, the lengthwise threads) and wei (纬, weft, the crosswise threads). Variations in these threads created intricate patterns. 1. Plain Weaves: Juan & Shi Juan (绢): A basic plain-weave silk, utilitarian and widely used. Shi (絁): Similar to juan, but with uneven weft threads,…...

When we think about ancient Chinese clothing, a curious misunderstanding often arises—many believe that the clothing of specific dynasties was determined by the seasons. For instance, people sometimes think of Tang Dynasty (唐朝) garments as summer wear, and Ming Dynasty (明朝) attire as winter clothing. The idea seems odd at first, as we know that every era experienced all four seasons, so why would the clothing of one dynasty be associated with just one temperature? It turns out that this perception stems from a combination of misinterpretations and misconceptions about the nature of ancient Chinese garments. Let’s break down why this understanding doesn’t quite hold water. The Tang Dynasty: More Than Just Summer Fashion The Tang Dynasty is often associated with light, airy, and flowing garments, especially the famous " Qixiong Ruqun" (齐胸襦裙), which has become iconic in many representations of ancient Chinese fashion. This lightweight attire—made from silk and other fine materials—gives the impression of being suited for hot weather. But the truth is, Tang fashion wasn’t just about comfort during the heat. A deeper look reveals that many Tang garments, although appearing simple, actually consisted of several layers, which weren’t always visible on the surface. The illusion of…...

Historical Cdramas like 'Qing Ping Yue' and 'Da Feng Da Geng Ren' have showcased authentic children's hairstyles, moving away from the trend of simply shrinking adult styles. This shift highlights that ancient Chinese children, much like their modern counterparts, had their own distinctive looks tailored to their age. Previously, it was common to see ten-year-olds in period dramas styled as miniature adults—boys with tied-up hair and crowns, girls with elaborate buns and hairpins. However, this portrayal is historically inaccurate. In ancient China, adulthood was marked by ceremonies: the Ji Ji Li (及笄礼) for girls around age 15 and the Ruo Guan Li (弱冠礼) for boys around 20. Before these rites, hairstyle options were limited, with the most common being the 'Zong Jiao' (总角), or 'horned hair'. Zong Jiao: A Broad Term Zong Jiao is a broad term referring to the hairstyles of children aged 7 to 15. This period was poetically called the 'Zong Jiao Years,' and childhood friendships were termed 'Zong Jiao friendships.' The 'Jiao' refers to small topknots, specifically the hair tied on either side of a child's head, distinct from the loose 'Chui Tiao' (垂髫) of early childhood or the formal buns of adults. Narrow Definition of…...

During the Song Dynasty, pearl embellishments were a widespread fashion trend, but contrary to popular belief, the number and placement of pearls did not signify social status or rank. While official attire for noblewomen and imperial consorts had strict regulations regarding patterns and motifs—such as the number of dragons or phoenixes on headdresses—pearl adornments were never subject to such hierarchical rules. Online claims suggesting that the quantity of pearls indicated one's rank are simply unfounded interpretations. Pearls were a universal fashion statement. Even the empress wouldn’t cover her entire face in pearls, as there were only a few suitable spots for application: between the eyebrows, from the corners of the eyes to the temples, and on the dimples. Though the number of pearls didn’t reflect social rank, using more pearls naturally hinted at a wealthier background. Affluent families didn’t just wear pearls on their faces or as jewelry; they also embellished collars, cuffs, carpets, and even furniture with pearls, turning them into a ubiquitous decorative element. One popular style was the 'Zhuluo' (珠络), where pearls were sewn along collars, hems, and seams to accentuate the wearer’s status. Princesses’ dowries included pearl-adorned formal gowns and long coats, as well as 'Pearl…...

South Korea has recently introduced a new initiative to promote its traditional attire, Hanbok, by designating the last Wednesday of every month as 'Hanbok Day.' This move has sparked discussions online, with some netizens humorously commenting, 'They're really in a hurry!' The initiative is part of a broader plan to revitalize traditional cultural industries, as outlined by the Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism. Under this plan, public officials and employees of government agencies are encouraged to wear Hanbok on the designated day. Additionally, specific national holidays and commemorative days, such as Independence Movement Day and Hangul Day, will now have Hanbok as the recommended attire. To further promote Hanbok, museums, art galleries, and overseas cultural centers will adopt it as the uniform for their staff. The government has also established the third week of October as 'Hanbok Culture Week' to encourage wider participation. This initiative comes amid growing interest in traditional attire across East Asia, including discussions in China about establishing a 'Hanfu Day' to celebrate traditional Han Chinese clothing. While South Korea's efforts are comprehensive, covering official support, public participation, and cultural promotion, the debate continues on how best to preserve and promote traditional garments in modern society.…...