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…

In ancient China, a unique fashion trend emerged where women adorned their heads with bird - shaped crowns. This practice, which might seem extravagant today, was quite popular among the nobility and performers during various dynasties. The tradition of wearing bird crowns dates back to the Northern Qi Dynasty, as evidenced by murals in the Xu Xianxiu Tomb. By the Tang Dynasty, these crowns became a favorite among female dancers and attendants. Historical records, such as Tang Du You's 'Tongdian' and the 'New Book of Tang,' document performances where dancers wore bird crowns and colorful costumes to celebrate imperial achievements. Initially used by performers, bird crowns gradually gained popularity among the aristocracy. Crafted from gold and silver and embellished with precious stones, these crowns featured various birds like peacocks, phoenixes, parrots, and mynas. The Dunhuang murals frequently depict these ornate crowns, especially on princesses from Khotan and Uyghur, adorned with jade and dressed in luxurious robes. A notable example is a Tang Dynasty pottery figurine from the Jinxiang County Princess Tomb, wearing a peacock crown with vividly painted feathers. The phoenix crown held a special status, combining features of multiple birds, as described in Zhang Hua's 'Avian Classic.' Phoenix motifs…

In the latest hit series 'Seven Nights of Snow,' it's hard not to notice the prevalence of cloaks among the characters. This raises the question: when did cloaks become a staple in costume dramas? Originally, cloaks were designed as raincoats or windbreakers, with separate hoods and garments. The 'Book of Songs' mentions shepherds wearing straw raincoats and bamboo hats, illustrating their early use in weather protection. Over time, cloaks evolved from simple straw designs to include materials like animal fur, thick fabrics, and oiled silk. Terms like 'Qiu' (fur clothing) and 'Hechang' (feathered garments) often get confused with cloaks. Historically, cloaks were sleeveless, loose, and ankle - length, sometimes featuring attached straps for ease of movement. They were known as 'Yi Kou Zhong' or 'Yi Guo Yuan' during the Qing Dynasty for their bell - like shape. Modern costume dramas often depict hooded cloaks, blending ancient designs with Western influences to create a fashionable hybrid.

Have you ever been puzzled by scenes in historical dramas like 'The Willow Boat' where characters debate whether 'Twelve Hairpins' are appropriate for a certain rank? Today, let's delve into the significance of these 'Twelve Hairpins'. A key term here is 'Huashu' (花树), which refers to floral hair ornaments. The practice of using the number of Huashu to denote rank began in the Sui and Tang dynasties, with the quantity corresponding to the wearer's status. Similarly, 'Dianchai' (钿钗), or jeweled hairpins, followed this system but were worn with different ceremonial attire. For example, the Tang Empress wore twelve Huashu (小花如大花之数，并两博鬓), while the Crown Princess wore nine. Noblewomen of various ranks wore between five and nine Huashu, adorned with precious jewels. These ornaments, made of delicate gold and silver petals, were prone to damage, which is why archaeological finds often reveal only fragments. Contrary to expectations, these 'flowers' sometimes included tiny figurines. One might wonder how noblewomen managed the weight and complexity of wearing so many ornaments. The ingenious solution was the 'Bijì' (蔽髻), a crown-like frame that could hold multiple Huashu clusters, simplifying the process of adorning one's hair. To secure the Bijì, two elaborately decorated long hairpins were inserted…

Recent promotional images from the drama 'Guo Se Fang Hua' have surfaced online, featuring actor Li Xian in a pink round - collar robe and a traditional Futou (幞头) headpiece. The bold choice of color has left netizens astonished, with many questioning whether men in the Tang Dynasty actually wore such vibrant shades of pink. In traditional Chinese culture, the color 'pink' encompasses a wide spectrum of elegant names, such as 'Tao Yao' (桃夭, peach blossom), 'Yan Zhi' (胭脂, rouge), 'Bao Chun' (报春, herald of spring), 'Fei Se' (妃色, concubine's hue), and 'Su Mei' (苏梅, plum blossom). Unlike standardized Pantone colors, traditional Chinese hues vary in depth and tone, each carrying its own unique cultural significance. Pink has long symbolized beauty and vitality in Chinese history. Ancient poets often used terms like 'Tao Hong' (桃红, peach red) or 'Tao Yao' to describe the radiant complexion of beautiful women. For instance, the line 'Tao Zhi Yao Yao, Zhuo Zhuo Qi Hua' (桃之夭夭，灼灼其华) from the 'Book of Songs' not only depicts blooming peach blossoms but also evokes an image of delicate yet vibrant charm. Historical records and artifacts reveal that pink was a popular color in various dynasties. The Dunhuang Mogao Caves,…

Subverting Celestial Authority in Song Dynasty Art In the flickering candlelight of a 12th-century Song Dynasty workshop, an anonymous painter dipped his brush into vermilion pigment to depict a scene that would unsettle imperial censors for centuries. The resulting Soushan Tu (搜山图, Demon-Quelling Scroll), now preserved in the Palace Museum, Beijing, presents a cosmic paradox: heavenly soldiers with bulging eyes and twisted faces hunt down fox spirits wearing scholar robes, while weeping deer-women clutch their half-human infants. This 6-meter-long visual rebellion dismantles the myth of divine benevolence through deliberate symbolic inversion—a coded critique of power that still resonates today. The scroll's genius lies in its grotesque ambiguity. A boar-headed soldier drags a tree spirit by its roots, the latter's branches clawing at the air like skeletal hands. Nearby, a pheasant-winged celestial general raises a spiked mace over a cowering family of rabbit spirits, their human-like faces frozen in terror. These are not the clean moral binaries of temple murals, but a murky world where pursuer and prey mirror each other's monstrosity. The Yuan Dynasty zaju (杂剧, poetic drama) Erlang Shen Zui She Suomo Jing (二郎神醉射锁魔镜, The Drunken Erlang Shen Shoots the Demon-Sealing Mirror) provides textual counterparts to these haunting images.…

If you've ever binge-watched a Cheng Yi (成毅) drama, you know two things: he loves a good costume, and he'll make you cry—or cheer—without saying a word. From mystical immortals to scheming emperors, Cheng Yi has become the go-to actor for Chinese historical and fantasy dramas that hook viewers with their mix of heartbreak, sword fights, and intricate plots. Let's dive into his top period dramas—where every flick of his sleeve or subtle glance tells a story. Love and Redemption 琉璃 Aired: 2020 Period Background: Set in a mythical ancient China Genres: Xianxia, Romance, Fantasy Main Roles:Cheng Yi as Yu Sifeng (禹司凤), Yuan Bingyan (袁冰妍) as Chu Xuanji (褚璇玑) Adapted From: The novel Liu Li Mei Ren Sha (琉璃美人煞) by Shi Si Lang (十四郎) At its core, Love and Redemption is a saga of cosmic love and redemption spanning ten reincarnations. Yu Sifeng, a noble yet cursed disciple, falls for Chu Xuanji, whose fragmented soul lacks emotional awareness due to her divine origins. Each lifetime, Sifeng sacrifices himself to protect her—whether by taking lethal blows, enduring soul-crushing betrayal, or surrendering his spiritual essence—only to watch her forget him repeatedly. Xuanji's journey to regain her "heart" mirrors her awakening as the…

If you're new to Chinese historical dramas, Zhang Ruoyun's (张若昀) name should be at the top of your list. Forget stiff period pieces—his shows mix sharp wit, high-stakes politics, and characters who feel real, even in silk robes. Whether he's playing a math genius in the Ming Dynasty or a warrior prince in a fictional empire, Zhang makes centuries-old stories crackle with modern energy. Let's cut to the chase: here are his five best costume masterpieces to binge next. Joy of Life 庆余年 Aired: Season 1 (2019), Season 2 (2024) Period Background: Fictional Qing Dynasty-inspired empire Genres: Political intrigue, Historical fantasy, Mystery Main Roles: Fan Xian (范闲): Zhang Ruoyun as a witty, modern-minded nobleman navigating court conspiracies. Emperor Qing (庆帝): Chen Daoming (陈道明) as the enigmatic ruler. Adapted From: Cat Nip's novel Joy of Life. If you've ever wondered what Game of Thrones might look like with a Chinese twist—minus the dragons but packed with biting humor and brainy schemers—Joy of Life is your answer. Zhang Ruoyun's breakout role as Fan Xian redefined historical fantasy, blending time-travel logic, political chess games, and a protagonist who'd feel just as at home in a coffee shop as in a royal palace. Aired in two…