In the Korean drama 'Won Kyung,' Queen Won Kyung is seen wearing a full set of Zhaiyi (翟衣), along with a Yanju crown (燕居冠) adorned with Bobin (博鬓), which is typically reserved for empresses or crown princesses. Observant viewers might find this attire familiar. In recent years, Zhaiyi has frequently appeared in Chinese historical dramas set in the Song and Ming dynasties, largely because well - preserved portraits of empresses from these periods provide ample reference material. The 'Zhai' in Zhaiyi refers to the Zhai pattern (翟纹), which features the Chinese pheasant (红腹锦鸡), a bird native to China with vividly colored feathers described as 'red with five hues.' The pattern consists of twelve pairs of pheasants arranged in rows, interspersed with small floral motifs called 'Xiaolunhua' (小轮花) in the Ming dynasty. The headdress also follows a strict hierarchy: the phoenix crown (凤冠) with Bobin is the highest rank, paired with Zhaiyi, while the Yanju crown (with Bobin) is worn with a yellow Dasha (大衫) and Xiapei (霞帔). Noblewomen's Zhai crowns are paired with red Dasha and matching Xiapei. Why does Zhaiyi appear in Korean dramas? The 'Goryeo History' records that Empress Xiaoci of the Ming dynasty once bestowed Zhaiyi upon…

If you think lotus leaf hats are a modern trend, our ancestors would surely laugh at you: "You kids are so outdated and unfashionable!" This iconic headwear dates back much earlier than you might imagine, with roots tracing to the Northern and Southern Dynasties. Historical records like "The History of the Northern Dynasties" mention bearers wearing them in summer, while "Tales of the Hidden World" from the Liu Song Dynasty recounts a sorcerer tricking a governor into wearing a magical lotus hat that later revealed its true form, astonishing everyone. The most vivid depiction appears in Ming Dynasty painter Qiu Ying's "Assembly of the Immortals," showcasing an immortal wearing an identical lotus leaf hat. Nature has always been the muse for innovation. Later adaptations led to rounded hats with varying materials—felt caps from wool, blended silk - wool Diexiao hats, and pure silk variants. The key difference lay in "dyed silk replacing wool," as noted in historical texts. This accessory became a cinematic staple too, like Yang Fangbing's portrayal of Yang Guifei, whose hat dripped with pearl strands resembling dewdrops on lotus leaves. Among the Yi ethnic group in Sichuan's high - altitude Meigu County, married women wear similar hats…

In the past, historical dramas often featured costumes with large necklines, resembling an ancient version of 'deep V-necks.' But were such off-shoulder outfits truly worn in history? And why are they less common in modern productions? There were indeed similar styles, at most revealing the neck. Historical artifacts like the murals from Xu Xianxiu's tomb and figurines from the Wei-Jin period might give the impression of off-shoulder outfits. However, these were typically layered with undergarments beneath the outer robe. For instance, during the Northern and Southern Dynasties, the 'Da Xiu Ru' (大袖襦) was popular. This style, often seen in figurines, featured wide sleeves, though only sleeve fragments have been unearthed so far. Based on these artifacts and the characteristics of 'Ru,' scholars have reconstructed how the Da Xiu Ru might have looked, with variations in neckline size. Notably, figurines wearing such large-neckline outfits invariably have a circular or horizontal line around the neck, representing the collar of an undergarment or 'Liang Dang' (裲裆). By the Southern Dynasties, waistlines of skirts rose to the chest, while some upper garments retained the Da Xiu Ru style. The necklines during this period resembled modern cinematic effects, barely revealing the collarbone. However, achieving the…

If you've ever wondered how Chinese mythology, history, and fantasy collide on screen, Yang Zi's (杨紫) costume dramas are the perfect starting point. Take Ashes of Love, where she plays Jin Mi, a flower deity navigating love and betrayal across celestial realms. The series doesn't just romanticize immortality; it dissects the consequences of emotion-suppressing poisons and divine politics. Or consider Flourished Peony, where her stoic swordswoman Lu Xueqi battles sect rivalries in a world where loyalty clashes with ambition. Yang Zi's characters aren't just "strong"—they're layered, flawed, and rooted in specific eras, from the Tang Dynasty's perfume trade (Flourished Peony) to mythological clan wars (Lost You Forever). Here's a curated guide to Yang Zi's most iconic costume works. Lost You Forever 长相思 Aired: 2023 Period Background: Mythological era inspired by ancient Chinese legends. Genres: Xianxia, romance, political intrigue. Main Roles: Yang Zi as Xiao Yao, a resilient princess; co-stars Deng Wei (邓为) and Zhang Wan Yi (张晚意). Adapted From: Tong Hua's novel of the same name. Xiao Yao's story begins in tragedy—after losing her royal status and memories, she reinvents herself as Wen Xiao Liu, a rough-edged healer in Qing Shui Town. Her life intertwines with four men, each representing…

Dilraba Dilmurat (迪丽热巴) has redefined versatility in Chinese costume dramas, seamlessly shifting from mischievous fox spirits to battle-hardened warriors. Her ability to anchor fantastical plots with emotional authenticity makes her a standout in the genre. Take The Long Ballad: As Li Changge, she delivered a masterclass in restraint, whether strategizing siege defenses or silently mourning her family's massacre. In Eternal Love of Dream, she balanced Bai Fengjiu's whimsy with grit, turning a lovestruck princess into a symbol of resilience. These roles aren't just performances—they're blueprints for how modern xianxia and historical dramas can prioritize character over spectacle. Below, we break down five dramas that showcase her range, each distinct in tone yet unified by her magnetic presence. Eternal Love of Dream 三生三世枕上书 Aired: 2020 Period Background: Mythological fantasy world spanning three lifetimes. Genres: Romance, Fantasy, Xianxia. Main Roles: Dilraba as Bai Fengjiu, a nine-tailed fox princess; Gao Weiguang as Dong Hua Dijun. Adapted From: Tang Qi Gongzi's novel Three Lives, Three Worlds: The Pillow Book. Spanning three lifetimes, Eternal Love of Dream follows Bai Fengjiu, a fiery nine-tailed fox princess from the Qingqiu fox tribe, as she relentlessly pursues Dong Hua Dijun, an ancient deity who sacrificed his emotions to…

Bai Lu's (白鹿) rise in costume dramas isn't just about beauty—it's a masterclass in versatility. From the tender restraint of a noblewoman to the fiery swagger of a rebel queen, she molds each role into something unforgettable. Take The Journey of Chong Zi: her character Cui Shiyi, a reserved heiress bound by tradition, contrasts sharply with The Legends of Lu Zhaoyao, a leather-clad warlord who smirks while swinging a sword. Even within a single series, like Song of Youth, she shifts seamlessly from Ming-dynasty elegance in embroidered silk to comedic chaos in slapstick disguises. Her secret? She leans into extremes. In The Legends, a crimson robe and unapologetic red eyeliner scream "villainess," while in Court Lady, a single red-dress dance scene—all swirling sleeves and defiant glances—cements her as the queen of physical storytelling. No two roles blur; each is a bold, deliberate stroke on a growing canvas of reinvention. This article highlights her top works, blending rich storytelling, cultural depth, and performances that transcend language barriers. One and Only 周生如故 Aired: 2021 Period Background: Set in a fictional dynasty mirroring the Northern and Southern Dynasties (420–589 CE), a turbulent era marked by fractured kingdoms, military coups, and rigid Confucian social…

The Chinese entertainment landscape is witnessing a resurgence of wuxia dramas, and Fu Shan Hai (赴山海, translated as To the Mountains and Seas) stands at the forefront of this revival. Slated for a 2025 release on Dragon TV (东方卫视), this 40-episode series adapts Wen Rui'an's iconic novel Legendary Heroes of the Land (神州奇侠), blending classic Jianghu themes with time-travel twists and Gen-Z sensibilities. Starring Cheng Yi (成毅), Gulnazar (古力娜扎), and a powerhouse supporting cast, the drama has already generated buzz for its ambitious storytelling, meticulous production, and Cheng Yi's career-defining triple role. Plot & Innovation: Bridging Generations The series follows Xiao Mingming, a disillusioned modern-day office worker who accidentally slips into the martial arts novel he's editing, embodying its protagonist, Xiao Qiushui. From a bumbling novice to a hero defending his nation, Xiao's journey intertwines workplace disillusionment with classic wuxia tropes—think The Matrix meets Condor Heroes. This meta-narrative injects "anti-burnout" themes resonating with younger audiences while preserving the genre's core values of loyalty and justice. On one hand, it retains the classic tropes that fans of the genre have come to love—righteous warriors, enigmatic enemies, and dramatic showdowns. On the other, it subtly incorporates elements of modern storytelling, such as…

1. Public Awareness of Hanfu and Brand Recognition According to a research report by Jingzhi, public understanding of Hanfu varies significantly. Specifically, 45.9% of respondents reported a "good understanding" of Hanfu and could identify its basic styles; 43.1% had a "general familiarity"; while only 11.0% claimed limited or no knowledge. Geographically, residents of first-tier cities (e.g., Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shenzhen), new first-tier cities, and second-tier cities demonstrated higher awareness, attributable to these regions’ strong cultural environments, rapid information dissemination, economic development, and greater demand for cultural consumption. Regarding brand recognition, despite rapid market growth in recent years, overall brand awareness remains relatively low. Apart from leading brands like Han Shang Hua Lian, Chong Hui Han Tang, and Shi San Yu, most Hanfu brands still struggle with visibility. This is largely due to the industry’s early-stage development, fragmented market structure, and the absence of dominant brands with broad influence. Additionally, limited marketing efforts—primarily relying on social media and word-of-mouth—restrict brand exposure. 2. Channels of Exposure and Hanfu Usage Scenarios Key channels for learning about Hanfu include historical dramas (59.3%), social media (54.7%), Hanfu cultural clubs (49.1%), historical literature (40.7%), and museum exhibitions (38.8%). Historical dramas visually showcase Hanfu’s elegance through intricate…

Every stitch on a horse-face skirt whispers secrets. For centuries, Mamianqun artisans encoded cultural values, social status, and cosmic beliefs into embroidered motifs, transforming fabric into a visual lexicon. These symbols—ranging from imperial dragons to humble butterflies—reveal how clothing became a canvas for China’s collective imagination. Imperial Dragons and Cosmic Order The dragon motif, reserved for royalty and high-ranking officials, evolved dramatically between dynasties. Ming-era Mamianqun featured five-clawed dragons (long) encircling skirt panels, their bodies coiled in perfect Fibonacci spirals to represent celestial harmony. A 1589 imperial consort’s skirt in the Forbidden City archives shows dragons chasing pearls amid cloud bands, symbolizing the emperor’s mandate from heaven. Qing artisans reimagined this motif under Manchu rule. Horse-face skirts for nobility incorporated mang dragons—four-clawed hybrids blending dragon and serpent features—to subtly assert Manchu identity. The 1783 “Dragon-Tide” skirt commissioned by Empress Dowager Chongqing pairs mang dragons with crashing waves, a nod to Qing naval ambitions. Floral Codes – From Peonies to Lotus Flowers served as social shorthand. Ming commoners favored peonies embroidered in indigo thread, their layered petals symbolizing wealth accumulation. Nobility preferred lotus motifs in silver-gilt thread, each flower’s eight petals mirroring the Bagua trigrams. A surviving Qing-era horse-face skirt from Suzhou tells a marital story through flora: pomegranates…

To create a traditional horse-face skirt is to converse with centuries of artisans. This process, honed during the Ming Dynasty and refined in the Qing era, transforms raw fabric into a cultural statement. Far from a simple garment, each skirt embodies calculated geometry, symbolic motifs, and generational wisdom—a wearable archive of Chinese craftsmanship. Material Selection Traditional skirts begin with fabric choices steeped in regional logic. Ming artisans preferred luo silk, a lightweight yet durable weave that allowed pleats to hold their shape without stiffness—ideal for Jiangnan’s humid climate. Qing tailors often opted for kesi tapestry silk for outer panels, its slit-tapestry technique enabling photorealistic embroidery. Modern recreations face ethical dilemmas: while purists source wild mulberry silk from historic Zhejiang farms, eco-conscious brands like Vermillion Phoenix now use organic hemp dyed with tea leaves to mimic antique hues. Pattern Drafting: Geometry in Service of Grace The four-panel template follows strict proportional rules. A typical Ming skirt for a woman of 165cm height requires: Two outer panels: 50cm wide x 105cm long Two inner panels: 30cm wide x 105cm long Waistband: 8cm wide x 110cm (allowing overlap) Historic pattern books like the Yuanyang Pu (1627) reveal secret adjustments: a 3° outward flare on outer panels to enhance the “horse face”…

The horse-face skirt’s journey through China’s dynastic eras reveals not just changing aesthetics but seismic cultural shifts. Between the Ming and Qing dynasties, this iconic garment transformed from a study in Confucian restraint to a manifesto of imperial grandeur, mirroring the philosophical and political currents that reshaped the nation. Ming Dynasty: Elegance Through Restraint The Ming era (1368–1644) elevated simplicity to an art form. Horse-face skirts from this period favored clean lines and subtle symbolism, reflecting the dynasty’s revival of Han Chinese traditions after Mongol rule. Dominated by solid hues like indigo, russet, and ivory, these skirts derived beauty from precision tailoring rather than overt decoration. The most elaborate Ming examples featured narrow lan (襕)—decorative bands at knee level—embroidered with understated geometric patterns or small floral motifs. A mid-16th century skirt from a Nanjing tomb exemplifies this ethos: its unbleached hemp fabric bears a single band of silver-thread cloud designs, a nod to scholarly ideals of humility and harmony with nature. Qing Dynasty: Opulence as Political Language With the Manchu conquest in 1644, the horse-face skirt became a battleground for cultural negotiation. Qing rulers preserved the Han garment’s structure but infused it with nomadic sensibilities. Skirts exploded with color, featuring entire landscapes…

The horse-face skirt (mamianqun) is more than a garment—it’s a feat of engineering that has captivated scholars and designers for centuries. Its enduring appeal lies in a harmonious blend of form and function, anchored by two defining elements: the ingenious four-panel system and an evolving language of pleats. This article explores how these structural innovations shaped the skirt’s identity across dynasties, transforming practicality into artistry. The Four-Panel System At the heart of the horse-face skirt lies its signature four-panel design (si qunmen), a revolutionary concept perfected during the Ming Dynasty. The structure consists of two wider outer panels positioned at the front and back, complemented by narrower inner panels along the sides. When fastened, the outer layers elegantly overlap the inner ones, revealing only two decorative “horse face” sections inspired by the defensive bastions of ancient city walls. This modular system served both aesthetic and practical purposes. The overlapping panels ensured modesty during movement—a critical consideration in Confucian-influenced societies—while allowing wearers to adjust the skirt’s volume for different occasions. Historical records from Jiangnan workshops reveal that affluent Ming households often commissioned interchangeable outer panels, enabling a single skirt to transition seamlessly from daily chores to ceremonial events through strategic fabric substitutions. The Evolution of…

The horse-face skirt (mamianqun), with its distinctive overlapping panels and intricate pleats, stands as a timeless symbol of Chinese fashion ingenuity. For nearly a millennium, this garment evolved alongside dynastic shifts, social norms, and artistic innovations. Today, it’s experiencing a global renaissance, embraced by Hanfu enthusiasts and haute couture designers alike. In this article, we unravel its remarkable journey from the Song Dynasty’s utilitarian xuanqun to the Qing Dynasty’s lavish pleated masterpieces. 1. Song Dynasty Origins: The Birth of the Xuanqun (10th–13th Century) The horse-face skirt’s story begins in the Song Dynasty (960–1279), an era marked by economic prosperity and technological advancements in textile production. Practical Design for Active Lifestyles The early prototype, called xuanqun (旋裙, “rotating skirt”), featured a two-panel split design that allowed freedom of movement. Unlike later elaborate versions, it prioritized functionality: Worn by working-class women for tasks like horseback riding and farming. Lightweight fabrics like silk gauze ensured breathability. Minimal pleating focused on ease of movement rather than decoration. Archaeological Evidence A pivotal discovery came from Huang Sheng’s Tomb (Fuzhou, 1243 CE), where a well-preserved xuanqun was unearthed: Made of sheer silk with simple knife pleats. Waistband secured with fabric ties, lacking the overlapping panels of later designs. 2. Ming Dynasty Standardization (14th–17th Century) The Ming Dynasty (1368–1644) transformed the xuanqun into…

Across the globe, gemstones are often valued for their beauty and rarity. However, in Chinese culture, certain gemstones hold an additional layer of significance, deeply rooted in the philosophy of the Five Elements. These elements – Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water – are fundamental to understanding Chinese cosmology and traditions. This article will explore the unique significance of the five gemstones associated with these elements. The Five Elements and Their Corresponding Gemstones The Wu Xing theory represents a complex web of relationships where elements generate and control one another in specific sequences. Each element corresponds to particular gemstones that channel its distinctive qualities and energies. These associations weren't arbitrary but developed through centuries of observation regarding the stones' physical properties, colors, and perceived energetic effects. 1. Wood Element and Green Stone In Chinese tradition, the Wood element symbolizes growth, vitality, and renewal, much like the energy of spring. It represents expansion, flexibility, and resilience, making it essential for fostering new beginnings. Green jade is the most revered gemstone associated with this element, often called the "stone of heaven." More valuable than gold in ancient China, jade’s smooth and durable nature embodies the Wood element’s strength and adaptability. It is…

In Chinese historical dramas, celestial beings and noblewomen are often depicted wearing exquisite arm accessories. These ornaments, known as 'Bi Huan' (臂环) or 'Bi Chuan' (臂钏), are not exclusive to deities but were also popular among the aristocracy, especially during the Tang Dynasty. The 'Bi Huan' is a type of bracelet worn on the upper arm, crafted from materials like gold, silver, jade, and glass. One notable example is the Tang Dynasty gold - inlaid jade arm ring unearthed from the Hejia Village Hoard, now displayed at the Shaanxi History Museum. This artifact consists of three curved white jade segments connected by gold animal - head hinges, showcasing exceptional craftsmanship. Historically, 'Bi Chuan' dates back to the Warring States period and became a symbol of wealth and status during the Tang and Song Dynasties. It was even included as part of the 'Three Golds' in betrothal gifts. In Buddhist art, similar arm rings are seen adorning Bodhisattva statues, highlighting their spiritual significance. Contrary to the misconception that these arm rings were difficult to wear, ancient designs often featured adjustable openings, making them practical for daily use. They could be worn singly or in pairs, with multi - loop versions called…

Is the widespread criticism of contemporary historical dramas a sign that people are awakening to Eastern aesthetics? What defines modern popular aesthetics? Think smoky eyes, heavy makeup, long lashes, sharp chins, tiny noses, glossy lips, A4 waists, enhanced busts, and body - hugging dresses. This pursuit of perfection often comes at the cost of individuality. When you're steeped in these standards, you might scoff at the classic "pearl - like" Chinese beauty, calling it a "big plate," or urge someone with a fuller figure to lose weight. Modern aesthetics act like a cage, dissecting every part of you with rigid symbols, fueling anxiety and clouding self - perception. As these fleeting "trends" wash over us, culture becomes a set of stereotypes, eroding our ability to appreciate beauty on our own terms. But this isn't a lasting majority. Many are already tired of the "snake - like" face trend, proving these are short - lived fads that don't touch the core. Take Hanfu, for example. Beyond its structure, we admire its colors, patterns, and the stories behind it—the weight of its layered collars, the flow of its long skirts, its inclusivity for all body types, empowering women of diverse shapes to…

In period dramas and ancient-style photography, cloaks are a common sight, but did you know they are actually a modern hybrid of Chinese and Western influences? The traditional Chinese cloak, known as 'Dou Peng,' typically consists of a separate hood and outer garment. The cloak itself refers to the outer layer, possibly derived from the design of straw raincoats (Suoyi). This separation allows for versatility—wearing just the cloak for warmth or pairing it with a hood in harsh weather. The hood, called 'Feng Mao' or 'Guanyin Dou,' serves its own practical purpose. Illustrations from Sun Wen's 'Dream of the Red Chamber' depict cloaks without hoods: sleeveless, loose, ankle-length, with either no collar or a standing collar, and front panels that drape naturally. Some feature attached straps for ease of movement, worn draped over the shoulders. Resembling an upside-down ancient bell, these cloaks were also called 'Yi Kou Zhong' (一口钟) or 'Yi Guo Yuan' (一裹圆) during the Qing Dynasty and in modern academia. This design aligns with the cloaks seen in the 1987 adaptation of 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' where the hood and cloak are separate. Modern depictions of cloaks often blend early straw raincoats and bamboo hats (Douli). Some…

In many Tang and Song dynasty dramas, you'll notice that almost every male character wears the same type of hat—the Futou. Whether they're high - ranking officials, low - level clerks, or military generals, the Futou is a common sight. This raises the question: was this hat really that ubiquitous in ancient China? The Futou, also known as the 'Zheshang Jin' (折上巾), was the most popular headwear for men during the Tang dynasty. It originated from a simple headscarf and evolved into two main styles: the 'soft wrap' and the 'hard wrap.' The soft wrap involved directly tying the cloth around the head, while the hard wrap used a base called 'Jinzi' (巾子) to create a more structured shape. The design of the Jinzi varied slightly over time. Historical records, such as Shen Kuo's 'Dream Pool Essays' from the Song dynasty, describe the Futou's tying method in detail. It involved four straps: two tied at the back, leaving two dangling, and the other two folded and tied at the top, giving it the nickname 'Zheshang Jin'. This style was particularly popular among military personnel, as noted in the 'Tang Huiyao.' Despite its widespread use, the Futou wasn't universal. Emperors wore…

In recent years, costume dramas featuring Tang Dynasty aesthetics have surged in popularity. From the widely acclaimed "The Curse of the Pearl Screen" and "Strange Tales of the Tang Dynasty" to upcoming productions like "National Beauty and Fragrance" starring Yang Zi and Li Xian, "Midnight Return" with Tian Xiwei and Xu Kai, Liu Shishi's "Palm of the Hand," and the adaptation of Ma Boyong's novel "Lychees of Chang'an," the Tang Dynasty has become the go - to historical backdrop for filmmakers. The Tang Dynasty (618 - 907 AD) was a golden age of Chinese civilization, renowned for its cultural confidence and sartorial splendor. As historian Sun Ji noted in "Essays on Ancient Chinese Costumes," Tang noblewomen boldly embraced low - cut dresses that accentuated their beauty. The poet Ouyang Xun famously captured this aesthetic with the line: "Snow - white chests and flower - like faces." Shen Congwen's "History of Chinese Clothing" details how Tang women pioneered fashion trends. The popular "half - sleeve" jacket, worn over narrow - sleeved blouses, featured various collar styles and was tied with delicate ribbons across the chest. The pi (披帛), a long decorative scarf often made of sheer silk with intricate patterns, became…

Zhao Lusi's latest Tang Dynasty-inspired look in 'Pearl Curtain and Jade Screen' has fans reminiscing about her iconic Le Yan (乐嫣) character from 'The Long Ballad' (长歌行). While both styles draw from the Tang Dynasty aesthetic, there are notable differences that showcase her versatility in portraying historical roles. Le Yan's Hairstyle in 'The Long Ballad' In 'The Long Ballad', Zhao's Le Yan character sported the classic 'Bunny Ear' hairstyle, known as Baiheji (百合髻) or Lily Bun. This double-bun style, often with a center part or crisscross design, was popular during Emperor Taizong's reign (627 - 649 AD). Historical records from Ma Gao's 'Notes of Past and Present China' describe it as one of the signature hairstyles of early Tang Dynasty, perfectly complementing Zhao's sweet and youthful appearance. Hairstyle in 'Pearl Curtain and Jade Screen' The 'Pearl Curtain and Jade Screen' presents a more mature interpretation of Tang fashion. Zhao's character wears a single bun hairstyle, reminiscent of the Qiu Ji (囚髻) or Prisoner's Bun popular in mid - late Tang Dynasty. The styling features thinner, more voluminous sideburns creating a 'Chan Bin' (蝉鬓) or Cicada Wing effect - a delicate framing technique that mimics the transparency of cicada wings using…