Recently, the new drama A Good Match for Chen and Jin starring Ren Min and Ci Sha started filming. Netizens directly called out the costumes they wore, saying, "These clothes are so bad. Change them quickly!" Why did netizens say so? The costume style of this drama is in the Ming Dynasty style. In Ming-style costumes, the most important aspects are the clothing pattern, texture, and the allowance. The pattern can only be seen when the clothes are laid flat, so the most obvious thing recognizable to the naked eye is the allowance issue, which directly affects the clothing pattern. The allowance here refers to the "total sleeve length". Some formal wear patterns pay attention to "the sleeve should reach beyond the wrist when the arm is bent back". That is, when cutting, there should be enough room for the arm to bend, so that the sleeve length won't be affected when the arm is bent. When the wearer bends their arm, this kind of sleeve will present a beautiful streamline. Previously, the costumes in The Ninth Purple were criticized by netizens. The clothes basically had no allowance, making the person look big-headed and small-bodied, with completely uncoordinated proportions. The…

Finally, a historical drama recreates the coming - of - age rite. In When the Wild Geese Return, there's a scene where Zhuang Hanyan, played by Chen Duling, undergoes the Ji Li (coming - of - age ceremony for women). Netizens exclaimed, 'So this is the touching moment!' Nowadays, most children are considered adults once they reach a certain age, without a formal 'coming - of - age ceremony'. But in ancient China, one couldn't be truly 'adult' without understanding rites and undergoing the Guan Li (capping ceremony for men) for males or the Ji Li for females. Details of Rites Men usually had the Guan Li at 20, and women the Ji Li at 15. Also called 'Jia Ji' or 'Shangtou Li', the Ji Li involved parents or elders tying up the girl's hair and inserting a hairpin, signifying her adulthood and eligibility for marriage. As the saying goes, 'When a woman is betrothed, she undergoes the Ji Li and is given a courtesy name.' The main adornments in these rites were hair - tying and adding a crown or hairpin. Before adulthood, children wore their hair loose. The Guan Li for men had three stages, corresponding to different…

In the ancient - costumed drama When the Wild Goose Returns, the entrance scene of Concubine Miao is truly impressive. That bright red robe and the hair ornaments... Isn't it like a flashback to the scene of Princess Yuan's return to her natal family in A Dream of Red Mansions? Of course, it's the elegance of our country! A similar scene was also seen when Meng Ziyi got married in Purple in the Ninth Heaven, just with different patterns (kirin patterns). Who says Ming - style clothing is only low - key and luxurious? The grandeur of Ming - style formal dresses can be highly praised. First, let's conclude. What the imperial concubine wore was the "Python Robe" decorated with python patterns, a round - collared long gown style, with a standing - collared jacket inside, hairpins and hair ornaments on the head, and a horse - faced skirt below. This outfit is quite solemn and is a relatively high - level formal dress for noblewomen. No wonder some netizens said: This is not just an ordinary entrance of an imperial concubine. It seems like an "enthronement"! The "Python Robe" can be worn by both men and women. As a…

In the period drama When the Wild Geese Return, Chen Duling's character Zhuang Hanyan wore white at her coming-of-age ceremony, sparking online discussions: 'Isn't this inauspicious?' Actually, ancient Chinese society wasn't overly sensitive to wearing white. The misconception arises from its association with mourning attire, but mourning clothes were made of undyed hemp with a yellowish tint, and their colors varied due to different materials. In fact, white was sometimes worn during festivals, and it was more 'prestigious' than people think. Some online claims that the character wore white as a symbol of revenge are overinterpretations. Here's a quick overview of historical contexts for wearing 'white' in ancient China: White was one of the five traditional colors. Huainanzi states, 'When white is established, the five colors are complete,' highlighting its fundamental role. However, ancient Chinese white wasn't pure white by modern standards. Mourning garments were made of natural hemp, which was yellowish. Commoners' everyday work - wear was also undyed as dyes were costly, making plain fabrics practical. During the Sui dynasty, officials above the fifth rank wore purple; those below wore red or green; clerks wore blue; commoners wore white; butchers and merchants wore black; soldiers wore yellow. In…

The debate over the origins of the Futou (幅巾), a headwear often seen in Korean dramas, has resurfaced as it appears on Korean banknotes. While many assume it to be a Korean cultural element due to its frequent portrayal in K-dramas, the Futou is, in fact, a traditional Chinese accessory with a history dating back centuries. Its design has remained largely unchanged, yet it is rarely featured in Chinese period dramas set in the Ming Dynasty, sparking curiosity and debate. Historical Roots of Futou The earliest mention of Futou is found in the Houhanshu (后汉书), specifically in the biography of Zheng Xuan (郑玄), who chose to wear Futou instead of official court attire when receiving guests. Initially, Futou resembled a simple headwrap, similar to a scarf. However, by the Song and Ming Dynasties, it evolved into a popular headwear style, typically made from a square piece of silk measuring three chi (尺) in length and width. The Futou was worn by wrapping it around the forehead and tying it at the back, with the ends hanging down to the shoulders or even the back. During the Song and Ming Dynasties, Futou became deeply associated with Confucian culture, often worn during…

In various Chinese historical dramas such as Jiuchong Zi, Jinnang Miaolu, Futu Yuan, and Canghai Zhuan, actors like Xiao Zhan, Li Yunrui, Wang Hedi, and Zhai Zilu are often seen wearing what appears to be stockings or fishnets on their heads. However, these are not stockings but a traditional headgear known as Wangjin (网巾), a net-like accessory used by adult men in the Ming Dynasty to tie and gather loose hair. Practical Uses of Wangjin Wangjin was primarily used to keep hair in place and prevent hats from slipping. It was a practical accessory for daily life, especially among commoners who wore it without additional head coverings. For those of higher social status, Wangjin was often worn under formal hats during important occasions. The popularity of Wangjin can be traced back to Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang of the Ming Dynasty. According to historical records, Zhu Yuanzhang once visited a Taoist temple in casual attire and observed a priest weaving Wangjin under lamplight. Intrigued, he inquired about its purpose and later issued a decree mandating its use across the empire, regardless of social status. Wangjin typically featured a top drawstring called Wangdai (网带), tied at the crown, and small strings at the…

Recent photos of actress Chen Duling wearing an elaborate phoenix crown hairstyle have ignited online discussions about the differences between Ming and Qing dynasty headwear traditions. While many praised the aesthetic, others questioned whether the design leaned too heavily toward Qing influences. Key Distinctions Between Ming and Qing Phoenix Crowns: 1. Structure: Ming crowns typically featured full - coverage designs, whereas Qing crowns (especially post - mid - Qing) often showed partial coverage or hybrid styles like the flattened Dianzi (钿子) hairpieces. 2. Ornamentation Patterns: Ming crowns followed strict hierarchical rules with symbolic arrangements of dragons (gold wirework) and phoenixes (kingfisher feather inlays). Qing designs displayed more eclectic combinations of decorative elements. 3. Hanging Decorations: Ming pieces used pearl/malachite beaded 'tassels' (挑牌) on sides, while Qing versions developed dramatic front/side pearl curtains (珠帘) that eventually obscured the face in late - Qing fashion. 4. Cultural Accessibility: Ming crowns remained exclusive to noblewomen, but Qing versions became accessible to wealthy commoners, explaining why more Qing - era examples survive today. Only four intact Ming crowns exist, all housed in Beijing museums. Historical Context: The Qing Dianzi evolved from early 'head wrapping' styles, featuring decorative hairpin flowers on semi/fully - covered bases.…

Many people's impressions of female officials in the Ming Dynasty may come from two TV dramas: 'Shang Shi' and 'The Imperial Doctress.' The former is a work by Yu Zheng, while the latter is directed by Li Guoli. The influence of these dramas is undeniable, shaping public perception. Some might ask: Did female officials really dress so lavishly, adorned with gold and silver? Let’s explore what these officials actually looked like. The Palace Official System Emperor Hongwu, when establishing the palace official system, referred to previous dynasties' practices and set up six departments and one supervisory office: Shanggong (尚宫), Shangyi (尚仪), Shangfu (尚服), Shangshi (尚食), Shangqin (尚寝), and Shanggong (尚功), along with the Gongzheng Si (宫正司). The duties of female officials were broadly divided into routine palace responsibilities and ceremonial roles in royal events. The system was perfected during the Hongwu era, becoming the standard for later generations. Attire Inheritance From the Tang to the Ming Dynasty, the attire of female officials was largely inherited. According to historical records like 'Ming Shilu' and 'Da Ming Ji Li,' they typically wore black gauze hats (some resembling Tang - style headwear), narrow - sleeved round - collared robes, leather belts at the…

In the recent TV series "The Purple Hairpin," actor Ye Zuxin's portrayal of a crown prince has sparked discussions among viewers, particularly regarding the authenticity of his costume. A key point of contention is why a crown prince would wear a robe adorned with five - clawed dragons. To clarify, the gunlongpao (衮龙袍), a round - collared robe featuring circular dragon motifs, was a common attire for Ming Dynasty emperors, crown princes, and imperial relatives. This garment, paired with the yishanguan (翼善冠) hat, was worn during various court activities, lectures, and ceremonies. Contrary to popular belief, the five - clawed dragon design was not exclusive to the emperor but was shared among the imperial family, with variations in the number of dragon motifs. The misconception that only the emperor could wear five - clawed dragons stems from Qing Dynasty dress codes, not Ming traditions. Over time, the gunlongpao evolved, incorporating more elaborate designs for formal occasions, such as the addition of twelve symbolic patterns during the reign of Emperor Yingzong. These patterns, representing elements like the sun, moon, and stars, were reserved for grand ceremonies, making the robes more ornate than everyday wear. The series, while attempting to recreate Ming…

The Ming Dynasty (1368–1644) stands as one of China's most transformative and culturally vibrant eras, bridging medieval traditions with early modern innovations. Founded by Zhu Yuanzhang, a peasant-turned-emperor who overthrew the Mongol-led Yuan Dynasty, the Ming restored Han Chinese rule and established a centralized bureaucracy that shaped governance for centuries. Its name, meaning "brilliant splendor," reflects both its aspirations and contradictions: a period of monumental achievements in art, technology, and global trade, yet also marked by political intrigue, social upheaval, and eventual collapse. Ming-era dramas often explore themes of loyalty, ambition, and resilience. The dynasty's complexity—its blend of intellectual enlightenment and authoritarian control—offers fertile ground for narratives about power's corrupting influence and the human cost of progress. Whether depicting palace conspiracies, military strategists outwitting invaders, or merchants navigating Silk Road rivalries, these stories resonate with universal questions about leadership and morality. Ming Dynasty in 1566 大明王朝1566 Set during the twilight years of Emperor Jiajing's reign (1521–1567), Ming Dynasty in 1566 is widely regarded as a masterpiece of historical drama for its unflinching portrayal of political decay and moral ambiguity in late Ming governance. The series centers on the interplay between three power factions: the corrupt Grand Secretariat led by Yan…

Let's get one thing straight: Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜) isn't just a TV show. It's a cultural reset. The 2015 masterpiece redefined political intrigue in Chinese drama, blending razor-sharp plotting, tragic heroes, and a level of detail that made historians weep with joy. Season 2, while stellar, lived in the shadow of Hu Ge's iconic Mei Changsu. But Nirvana in Fire 3? It's not here to chase the past—it's here to burn it down and rebuild. With a fiery new duo, a kingdom teetering on collapse, and the original creative team back in the saddle, this might just be the reboot that outshines its predecessors. Two Men, One Throne, and a Nation in Flames Set in the fictional Yan Kingdom, the story pivots on a clash of titans: Tuoba Yi (Zhang Wanyi, 张晚意), the battle-hardened "King of the Northern Seas", and Tang Sheng (Zhang Xincheng, 张新成), a prodigy from the legendary Langya Pavilion. Yan is a tinderbox. Corrupt officials bleed the court dry, while rival kingdoms circle like wolves. Tuoba Yi, armed with an army and a hunger for power, sees chaos as an opportunity. Tang Sheng, however, is the wildcard—a scholar who believes stability can only come through cunning,…

In period dramas set in the Ming Dynasty, you'll often notice large white collars, sometimes even layered over patterned ones. Was this just a peculiar fashion choice? The answer lies in practicality. Back then, people wanted to avoid frequent laundry, especially since sweat easily soiled collars in summer. The solution? A detachable white collar called "Huling" (护领). This removable piece could be washed separately, maintaining cleanliness without worrying about color bleeding. Its neutral white hue also made it versatile, matching any outfit color effortlessly. For those who wanted to skip washing altogether, disposable paper collars existed as early as the Wei - Jin period. The "Book of Wei" records an official using paper collars for frugality. By the Ming Dynasty, widespread papermaking made these affordable for commoners, while nobles used specialty papers—essentially creating the first "daily disposable" collars. Huling came in varying widths, though none exceeded the main collar's size. While main collars could be colorful, Huling remained plain white. Some debate exists about colored or embroidered versions, but these likely prioritized aesthetics over functionality. Typically used on cross - collar or front - opening outer garments, they weren't mandatory—underlayers still required regular washing. Compared to modern garments where cleaning…

In China's streaming era, female-centric IP adaptations have long oscillated between two extremes: romanticized "sweet pet" (甜宠) narratives (Marvelous Women 锦心似玉) and formulaic harem scheming (The Story of Minglan 知否). However, Zhejiang Lexin's 2025 drama The Scheming Maiden marks a pivotal shift, prioritizing career-driven revenge over romantic entanglements. This transition reflects a broader industry trend: audiences, particularly women, now demand protagonists who wield intellect and agency beyond marital politics. While Marvelous Women (adapted from The Scheme of a Concubine) initially promised a nuanced portrayal of a Ming-era daughter of concubine’s (庶女) rise, critics argue it diluted its source material's complexity into a "Mary Sue romance," where the heroine's survival hinges on male validation rather than strategic brilliance. In contrast, The Scheming Maiden—adapted from a web novel of the same name—centers on Liang Wan'er, a disowned merchant's daughter who infiltrates a rival trading guild to avenge her family's ruin. Her weapon? Not matrimony, but mercantile acumen and psychological warfare. Marvelous Women vs. The Scheming Maiden 1. Narrative Priorities: Love vs. Vengeance Marvelous Women: Despite its "empowered" premise, the drama devolved into a love triangle between the heroine, her husband, and a childhood friend. Key plot points—like the protagonist's embroidery business—were sidelined…

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…

Recently, the filming of "Noble Lady" starring Chen Duling (陈都灵) wrapped up, and some promotional and on - set photos of Chen Duling were released online. Some netizens said that the costumes looked a bit cheap and made the characters look old. However, another group of netizens thought that they finally saw authentic Ming - style Hanfu in a costume drama. The costumes in "Noble Lady" mainly follow the traditional Ming - Dynasty style of Hanfu. They are mainly high - collared, cross - collared long jackets, with cloaks worn over them on formal occasions, and horse - face skirts as the lower skirts. The Ming - style costumes in this drama also include high - collared, vertical - collared and cross - collared jacket - skirt sets, as well as traditional cross - collared jacket - skirt sets. Through different color combinations and patterns, the lively and playful sides of the characters can be highlighted. The overall style of the costumes in this drama is quite grand, covering printing, gold - weaving, embroidery, and hidden - pattern techniques. As the characters' identities change in the plot, the costumes gradually show the elegance of Ming - Dynasty noble ladies. Among…

As a history enthusiast and frequent viewer of period dramas, I’ve noticed a troubling trend: even well-received shows often stumble when it comes to historical accuracy in costumes. Ming Dynasty in 1566 (大明王朝1566), a political drama lauded for its intricate plot and acting, is no exception. Despite its sky-high ratings, the series fails to accurately portray Ming-era official attire—a surprising misstep given the wealth of surviving records and artifacts from the period. Historical Accuracy vs. Creative Liberties The drama revolves around court politics, featuring emperors, ministers, and bureaucrats. Ming official clothing, meticulously documented in texts like the History of Ming, leaves little room for ambiguity. Yet the show’s costume design strays far from reality. Take the officials’ headwear, for example. The odd, box-like crowns worn by characters resemble a simplified version of the Longjin (笼巾), a ceremonial headpiece reserved for nobility—not regular officials. According to the History of Ming, the Longjin was part of formal court attire (chaofu, 朝服) worn during grand ceremonies. It included intricate accessories like jade or gold cicadas, pheasant feathers, and layered silk bands. Yet in the show, the design feels cheap and anachronistic—closer to a generic “ancient official” costume bought in bulk for low-budget productions.…

If you spotted a character in a historical drama twirling in a pink, pleated dress and thought, Wow, that looks surprisingly modern, you're not alone. The outfit in question, featured in The Glory (雁回时), closely resembles a contemporary flared dress, but it actually belongs to a category of Ming Dynasty garments known as tieli (贴里). This style, along with the similar yesa (曳撒), reflects a fascinating blend of influences, practicality, and visual appeal—so much so that modern designers could easily take inspiration from it. Tieli vs. Yesa: Not Just for Women At first glance, tieli and yesa might look like elegant, structured dresses, but in the Ming Dynasty, they were primarily worn by men. Both originated under the influence of Yuan-Mongol styles but were later adapted into Han Chinese fashion. The key difference? Yesa features a smooth front panel known as a Mamian (马面), while tieli is characterized by full pleats from top to bottom. These structured garments were designed for mobility, making them popular choices for officials, scholars, and even military figures. While women occasionally wore these garments, it was often as part of cross-dressing trends in dramas or plays, where they took on male roles. Today, it’s not…

As someone deeply passionate about historical clothing and accessories, people often ask me: "Does your knowledge of ancient fashion ruin your enjoyment of period dramas?" The answer is—quite the opposite! In fact, it adds another layer of enjoyment, turning each viewing into a treasure hunt for accurate details (or amusing anachronisms). Take "Nirvana in Fire 2" (琅琊榜之风起长林), for example. The series boasts stunning visuals, but as I watched, I couldn't help but notice a curious detail—the jewelry worn by characters like Empress Xun (荀皇后) and the Grand Lady of Laiyang (莱阳太夫人) bore striking similarities to Ming Dynasty designs. However, their application in the drama was... unconventional, to say the least. It appears that the production team sourced historically inspired pieces but missed the mark on how they were actually worn. Filigree Gold Phoenix Hairpins One of the most eye-catching pieces worn by Empress Xun is a set of three gold phoenix hairpins (累丝嵌宝石金凤簪). These exquisite accessories have a real-life counterpart: they are modeled after jewelry unearthed from Ming Dynasty imperial tombs in the western suburbs of Beijing. These tombs, unfortunately looted and excavated long ago, left behind only fragments of their once-lavish burial artifacts, yet what remains showcases remarkable craftsmanship.…

In the celestial hierarchy of Journey to the West (西游记), divine mounts (神骑) occupy a paradoxical role: they are both exalted and enslaved. Lions, elephants, and golden-haired beasts—once fearsome demons—are collared, neutered, and pressed into service by bodhisattvas and sages. Their domestication symbolizes Heaven's power to redeem chaos into order. Yet one figure stands apart, unbroken and unbridled: Wukong, the Monkey King. The Anatomy of a Divine Mount Heaven's stables are not filled by chance. To qualify as a mount, a creature must meet strict criteria—criteria Wukong shattered with every swing of his staff. The Biology of Submission Divine mounts are almost exclusively quadrupeds: lions, elephants, oxen, or horses. Their four-legged stance signifies stability, a biological pragmatism for carrying gods across realms. Wukong, however, is a bipedal primate—a mimic of humans who stands upright, wields tools, and laughs at gravity. His very anatomy rebels against the concept of being "ridden." In Chinese symbolism, monkeys represent the restless "heart-mind" (xinyuan), a metaphor for desires that resist control. To mount him would be to tame the untamable, a paradox even the Jade Emperor's bureaucracy couldn't resolve. The Politics of Punishment Divine mounts are not born—they are made. Take the Nine-Headed Lion, a…

If you ever find yourself at the National Museum of China and notice a long queue forming, chances are visitors are eagerly waiting to catch a glimpse of one of the most exquisite artifacts of the Ming Dynasty—the Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown. This imperial masterpiece, once adorning the head of Empress Dowager Xiaoduan, has captured the fascination of history enthusiasts and cultural aficionados alike. Recently, the museums exclusive line of merchandise, inspired by this legendary crown, has set the internet abuzz. Among these, a meticulously crafted refrigerator magnet has gained viral status, merging traditional opulence with modern collectibles. Fortunately for admirers, the museum has now opened online reservations for the coveted item, sparing visitors the need for an early morning queue. The Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown was unearthed in 1957 from the underground chambers of the Ming Dingling Mausoleum in Beijing, resting alongside other stunning imperial headpieces. The tomb housed four intricately designed crowns: the Three-Dragon and Two-Phoenix Crown, the Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown, the Twelve-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown, and the Six-Dragon and Three-Phoenix Crown. Among these, the Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown, once worn by Empress Dowager Xiaoduan, stands out as a symbol of regal sophistication. Its significance is so…