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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.…

Why didn't the high-waisted hanfu skirts (齐胸裙) worn by people in the Tang Dynasty fall down? This kind of skirt didn't have elastic bands or other similar measures. Did it rely on large breasts to stay up? Could it really stay in place without falling? The Principle of Skirt Fixation As we all know, in the Sui and Tang Dynasties of China's clothing history, the waistline of skirts became popular to move up. The current popular way of wearing it is called "high-waisted". As the name suggests, since it is worn on the chest and the high-waisted skirts we often see don't have shoulder straps, the force can only go downward. Then the chest must bear the necessary pressure. Let's think in a more straightforward way. We know that a skirt won't fall when tied around the waist because the waist is like a mortise and tenon structure. As long as it is tied tightly enough to prevent the waistline from slipping, you rarely see a wrapped skirt falling off unless it isn't tied properly. Similarly, for high-waisted skirts, as long as the tying part is tightened, you can jump around without the skirt falling. Fabric and Design Considerations Of…

At a recent event, actress Zhou Ye (周也) stunned in a shawl draped in a way reminiscent of her character in Scent of Time (为有暗香来). This sparked a wave of admiration online: “Who knew a shawl could be worn like this? Fashion truly transcends time!” Indeed, the various ways modern shawls are styled bear a striking resemblance to the classical pibo (披帛) of ancient China. While today’s shawls come in a variety of materials and styles, their role in enhancing an outfit remains unchanged. And just like in ancient times, there’s more than one way to wear them. The Evolution of Draped Elegance The concept of draping fabric over the shoulders dates back thousands of years. As early as the Wei and Jin dynasties, terracotta figurines depicted women wearing short, wide scarves known as 帔 (pei) or 披 (pi). These early forms of pibo were not just functional but also stylish, much like modern scarves. A poetic reference from the Southern and Northern Dynasties describes a woman’s elegance: "Her step-shaking hairpin sways, and the red edges of her pei flutter." By the Tang Dynasty, the pibo had evolved into a long, narrow accessory, becoming an essential part of women’s fashion.…

Ancient Chinese wisdom distilled clothing choices into simple truths: light robes for summer, padded jackets for winter. But look closer, and you’ll find a nuanced system—24 solar terms (节气), 72 micro-seasons (物候), and festivals each demanding specific colors and motifs. This wasn’t just practicality; it was a silent dialogue between humans and the rhythms of nature.. Chapter 1: Lunar New Year (春节) The tradition of wearing new clothes for the Lunar New Year is widespread in Chinese culture. Regardless of social class, people are expected to wear their finest attire to usher in the new year. For officials and those of higher status, formal ceremonial clothing is a must. The colors of these garments—red, blue, yellow, white, and black—offer a range of options, but certain traditions guide their use. White is typically worn for mourning, red symbolizes celebration, and yellow was reserved for emperors after the Tang Dynasty. Red, blue, and black are more common, with red standing out as a symbol of prosperity, joy, and good fortune. Throughout the New Year festivities, red decorations such as firecrackers, lanterns, and spring couplets (春联) fill the environment, creating an atmosphere of happiness and festivity. Red has become the hallmark of wealth…

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”…

Why should hanfu makers turn to thrift stores? For the deals, of course!

Peony Perfume Persists: The New Frontier of Scented Garments In the heart of China's Shandong province, a quiet revolution is taking place. The ancient city of Heze (菏泽), long renowned for its peonies, is now at the forefront of a technological breakthrough that's set to redefine the intersection of tradition and innovation in the world of fashion. At a recent women's handicraft exhibition, all eyes were drawn to an extraordinary display from Cao County, Heze. The star of the show? A skirt that seemed to bridge centuries, combining the timeless elegance of traditional Chinese hanfu with cutting-edge textile technology. This wasn't just any skirt - it was a garment woven from peony fibers, infused with a fragrance that could last for two years. Yao Chihang, the visionary behind the "Luo Ruyan" hanfu brand, beamed with pride as she explained the intricate process behind this marvel. "We've developed a new technique to extract fibers from peonies," she revealed. "During the weaving process, we embed the peony fragrance into the fabric itself, ensuring the scent remains for at least two years." This innovation isn't just a novelty; it's a testament to the potential of merging ancient craftsmanship with modern technology. The skirt itself…

Last Friday 3/17 I was invited to a local Chinese school to give a small talk on hanfu! The aim was to share hanfu culture with more people here and to present an example to the kids of what doors can be opened to you by maintaining language skills. A little background—I myself attended this once-a-week school from kindergarten up until 6th grade, upon which I pulled out of the school to invite the Chinese teacher that taught me in 6th grade to tutor me at home privately. She was a great tutor and a key part of inspiring my interest in ancient Chinese culture through poetry, history, and more, keeping me engaged while analyzing Tang Dynasty shi and Song Dynasty ci. As I got busy, I stopped the tutoring when I was in 10th grade—and I was introduced to the concept of hanfu not even a few months later! I’ve kept up communication with this teacher for a while (whose name I won’t disclose for privacy reasons) and visited her in Taiwan throughout the years. This year she came back to teach at the local chinese school and invited me to give a talk on hanfu there. For the…

I made my first real Hanfu based on patterns from this website. First outing at the beach, with dragons and all. Here is an article with much details on my sewing journey.

Wearing armor, riding a horse, holding a traditional weapon, fighting on the battlefield. Such a scene may have appeared in the dreams of many people when they were young. But there is a person who turned the traditional Chinese armor in the dream into reality, he is the first person to restore the ancient armor of the Tang and Song dynasties, Wen Chenhua (温陈华). He has highly restoration the armor of the Song dynasty, which has been lost in China for 700 years, after 6 years. He founded the Lian Kai Tang (炼铠堂), and with his own strength, he promoted the obscure armor restoration craft, and let Chinese armor on the world-class combat stage.   #01 The first person in traditional Chinese armor restoration There are only about 1000 armor restorers in China, 90% of them are Wen Chenhua's students, and for 40 years, he has been restoring Jiazhou (甲胄, traditional Chinese armor) to the extreme. On Wen Chenhua's social platforms profile, there is only a simple sentence "Top Chinese Jiazhou maker" as an introduction. However, he has shared a lot of armor design drawings and finished armor photos, all revealing his deep love for Jiazhou. Traditional armor restoration and…

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…

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…