On Ninghui Road in Yu Garden Mall, Kaede from Tokyo, Japan, and her friend are experiencing Hanfu photography in Yu Garden. As spring arrives, the 2025 Shanghai Yu Garden Mid - Spring Flower Festival has kicked off, attracting numerous Chinese and foreign tourists. According to the news from Yu Garden Mall, starting from the Mid - Spring Flower Festival, the upgraded Huancai Yu Garden Light Show combined with Chinese - style performances has officially launched. During this flower festival, accompanied by five sets of Chinese - style music, Yu Garden will use the core buildings in the central square, Nine - Bend Bridge, and Golden Square as the background to present a spring flower scene with dynamic floodlights. Recently, when the reporter visited Yu Garden, it was found that at nightfall, the dynamic lights in the garden blended with the flower scene and Chinese - style performances, swaying gracefully. Whether on Ninghui Road, known as the "ceiling of Chinese aesthetics", or in the central square and Golden Square where Chinese - style dances and ancient music are performed irregularly, tourists in Hanfu can be seen everywhere. Regardless of nationality and language, they not only integrate with the immersive Chinese -…

At 41, Tang Yan has challenged an ancient-style photo shoot for the first time. Soon, we'll also see her last ancient-costume drama. At this age, it's no longer suitable for her to play in ancient idol dramas. Tang Yan, if you're being kidnapped, just blink. She managed to break free from the label of an ancient idol drama actress and upgrade to a serious drama actress because of the drama The Longest Day in Shanghai. Acting in an ancient idol drama again will easily make her a target of ridicule. In ancient idol dramas, we look for handsome men and beautiful women. Although Tang Yan takes good care of herself, her age is still quite obvious. If she gets mocked, it'll be hard for her to recover. We hope she has good luck this time; otherwise, it'll damage her newly-established image. This is Tang Yan's first ancient-style photo shoot, and she's currently the only one among the 85-generation actresses to do so. It's full of a sense of sophistication and is different from those cheap Hanfu photo shoots, instantly raising the bar. Tang Yan's outfit is a collision between modern and ancient styles. A high-end blue feather dress paired with…

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…

In a village square in Shandong province, 11-year-old Huang Ruoxi stomps her feet with precision, sending reverberations through a set of drums arranged like celestial constellations. Her round cheeks flushed pink, two buns tied atop her head, she performs the Pan Drums Dance (盘鼓舞)—a 2,000-year-old Han Dynasty drum dance nearly lost to history. Meanwhile, 1,000 kilometers north in Hebei, 8-year-old Gao Haoran channels the spirit of Eastern Han storytellers, his comically exaggerated facial expressions and thunderous Martial Drumming (武鼓) drawing comparisons to China's iconic 2nd-century Shuochang Yong (说唱俑, Speaking and Singing Figurines). These children—dubbed "retro kids" by Chinese netizens—are sparking a cultural reckoning. Amid a sea of Gen Alpha peers glued to TikTok clones and mobile games, they've become unlikely ambassadors for traditions stretching back millennia. Social media floods with comments: "She's stepped straight out of a textbook illustration!" and "This kid's vibe is so…pre-2010s!" The phenomenon reveals a generational paradox. While China's youth are often stereotyped as digital natives addicted to virtual worlds, a growing cohort is reviving folk arts through school programs, family legacies, and yes—viral videos. UNESCO reports a 37% increase in China's intangible cultural heritage apprentices under 18 since 2020. From dragon dances in Guangdong to…

When world leaders stepped onto the global stage at the 2014 APEC Summit in Beijing, their attire transcended mere diplomatic protocol. The "New Chinese Attire" (新中装) became an instant cultural phenomenon—a sartorial manifesto that bridged millennia of craftsmanship with 21st-century innovation. This meticulously curated wardrobe did more than clothe dignitaries; it reintroduced the world to Jiangnan's textile heritage while sparking a "Guofeng" (国风) revival that continues to shape China's contemporary fashion identity. Today, as traditional techniques like Su embroidery (苏绣) and Song brocade (宋锦) find fresh relevance in streetwear and haute couture, the South China Museum's exhibition Splendid Jiangnan: The Golden Age of Chinese Textile Art (锦绣江南——中国传统织绣工艺的巅峰创造) revisits this pivotal moment, unpacking how six iconic APEC ensembles became catalysts for cultural reinvention. From Imperial Workshops to Global Runways The Yangtze River Delta's Jiangnan (江南) region, long celebrated as the cradle of Chinese textile excellence, has cultivated textile arts for over 2,000 years. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, Suzhou's embroidery ateliers and Nanjing's brocade looms supplied the imperial court with fabrics so exquisite they were deemed "cloth woven by clouds." Yet by the late 20th century, many of these crafts faced extinction, preserved only in museum archives or practiced by…

China, a land of timeless grandeur, boasts a history stretching over 5,000 years. Its legacy is preserved in the country's greatest museums—places where jade burial suits whisper secrets of the afterlife, where ink scrolls unfold poetic landscapes, and where terracotta soldiers stand in silent formation, guarding their emperor in eternity. Whether you are an enthusiast of ancient warfare, an admirer of fine porcelain, or a lover of intricate calligraphy, these institutions offer an immersive experience. Let us embark on a journey through China's most fascinating collections—each artifact a window into an unparalleled past. The Palace Museum 故宫博物院 Standing at the heart of Beijing, the Forbidden City—also known as the Palace Museum—was home to 24 emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Beyond its red walls lies a breathtaking collection of 1.86 million artifacts, ranging from imperial robes and jade carvings to ceremonial bronzes and priceless calligraphy. This museum is not only a testament to China's imperial power but also a masterpiece of architectural symmetry and philosophy. Every piece within its walls speaks to the imperial vision of grandiosity, the wisdom of rulers who believed their mandate came from the heavens, and the delicate relationship between life, death, and legacy. Highlights…

Horse-face skirts, also known as "Mamian Skirts," are a timeless and iconic part of traditional Chinese clothing. Originating from the Song Dynasty and popularized during the Ming Dynasty, these skirts have evolved from simple functional garments to sophisticated fashion statements that blend cultural heritage with modern style. Whether you're a seasoned Hanfu enthusiast or just starting your journey into the world of traditional Chinese attire, this guide will help you navigate the intricacies of choosing the perfect horse-face skirt. Understanding the Structure and Design A horse-face skirt consists of two main pieces that overlap at the front, creating four skirt doors (two on each side). The outer skirt doors are often decorated, while the inner ones may have minimal or no embellishments. The sides of the skirt are pleated, and the waistband is typically made of white fabric, symbolizing longevity and marital bliss. This design not only adds aesthetic appeal but also provides practicality, allowing for ease of movement. Key Features to Consider Skirt Length Shoe-On Style: Ideal length is leg length + 7 cm, ensuring a balanced look without compromising mobility. Long Style: Opt for leg length + 9-10 cm for a more flowing silhouette that complements various occasions.…

At Fujian Museum’s latest exhibition, visitors aren’t just seeing artifacts—they’re meeting fashion. Four reconstructed outfits from Huang Sheng, a Southern Song Dynasty (1127-1279) noblewoman, have taken center stage, merging historical accuracy with runway-ready appeal. These garments, originally featured in National Treasure Season 4, reveal how designer Zhang Ting reimagined 800-year-old textiles for modern audiences. The exhibition coincides with the popular Chinese cultural series’ new season, showcasing garments worn by actress Chen Duling during her portrayal of Huang Sheng. From indigo-dyed floral patterns to gold-accented embroidery, each piece tells a story about how Song aristocrats dressed—and how contemporary designers interpret their legacy. The Closet Time Forgot Discovered in a 13th-century tomb in Fuzhou, Huang Sheng’s wardrobe became a sartorial Rosetta Stone. Her 354 burial garments revealed unexpected details: lightweight floral silks, metallic threadwork, and color palettes that defied the "muted antiquity" stereotype. Zhang Ting’s reconstructions highlight three key pieces: A blue camellia-patterned Beizi (褙子, a traditional Song Dynasty outer garment) with embroidered lotus borders A purple peony-and-crabapple Daxiu Shan (大袖衫, wide-sleeved robe) featuring gradient dye techniques A pink peony-and-osmanthus Chang Beizi (长褙子, long outer coat) using replicated Song-era brocade "These aren’t costumes—they’re wearable archaeology," explains museum curator Lin Wei. "Zhang’s team studied fabric samples under microscopes to match weaving…

The Art of Tea Reimagined In the misty foothills of China's Sichuan province, a father-daughter duo is rewriting the rules of cultural preservation—one bamboo-wrapped teacup at a time. At Chongzhou's Intangible Cultural Heritage Park, a groundbreaking fusion of Daoming bamboo weaving (a 1,200-year-old craft) and Dehua porcelain (from Fujian's "China White" ceramic tradition) has birthed the viral "Panda Embracing Bamboo" tea set . Bai Jingbo, 52, the mastermind behind the design, explains: "The challenge was to make a 1,200-year-old tea ritual resonate with Gen-Z." His solution? A porcelain core fired at 1,320°C, sheathed in bamboo strips from 2-3-year-old ci bamboos—chosen for their flexibility and 120MPa tensile strength . Each cup undergoes 32 precise weaving steps, transforming rigid bamboo into undulating "water ripple" patterns that cradle the porcelain like a second skin. The pièce de résistance is the panda motif: traditional ink-wash paintings of pandas clutching bamboo stalks are kiln-fired onto the porcelain, creating a dialogue between Sichuan's ecological identity and its craft heritage . Three Generations, One Vision This project thrives on a cross-generational alliance: - Yang Yong, 68, a Chongzhou shadow puppet master, sketches initial panda designs using centuries-old ink techniques . - Bai Jingbo translates these into ceramic…

The clock struck 9 PM in Beijing, but inside Paris's Palais de Tokyo, the night was just beginning. Editors from Vogue, influencers clutching their iPhones, and celebrities like Liu Yu and Yuan Shanshan buzzed under the cavernous ceilings, their eyes fixed on towering embroidered tapestries depicting mythical butterflies, celestial cranes, and love stories woven into silk. This wasn't just another Paris Fashion Week spectacle—it was SHIATZY CHEN's Fall/Winter 2025 collection, a masterclass in bridging 1,000-year-old Miao traditions with the pulse of contemporary luxury. For founder Shiatzy Chen (Wang Chen Tsai-Hsia), this show wasn't merely about aesthetics; it was a manifesto. "When I first started, department stores told me, 'No one wants Chinese styles—give us international,'" she recalls, her voice steady yet charged with defiance. Nearly five decades later, her brand stands as a beacon of neo-Chinese chic, proving that heritage isn't a relic—it's a revolution. Ancient Stitches and Avant-Garde Craft The collection, titled Far&Near, hinged on a radical proposition: What if Miao embroidery—a UNESCO-listed intangible cultural heritage—could speak the language of modern urbanites? To answer this, Chen and her team embarked on three pilgrimages to Guizhou's remote Miao villages, collaborating with seven intangible cultural heritage artisans. Their mission? To decode…

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…

In 2024, China's Ministry of Human Resources and Social Security officially recognized Cultural Creative Product Planning and Operations Specialist as a new profession. At the forefront of this movement is Zeng Zhou, a 90s-born visionary transforming ancient artifacts into playful, market-savvy cultural icons. From enigmatic Sanxingdui bronzes to Chengdu's stone rhinos, Zeng's creations bridge millennia-old traditions with today's pop culture, proving that history can be both educational and irresistibly cool. Gaming Designer and Innovator Zeng Zhou's journey began with a passion for pop culture collectibles. Growing up surrounded by anime figurines and movie memorabilia, he noticed a gap in the market: few products celebrated China's own rich history. "I loved Marvel action figures, but I wondered—where are our stories?" he recalls. This realization drove him to pivot from his career in game design to pursue cultural innovation. In 2018, a visit to the Sanxingdui Museum in Sichuan sparked a breakthrough. The museum's enigmatic bronze relics, such as the Sacred Bronze Tree and Zoomorphic Masks, captivated Zeng. "The masks' exaggerated eyes felt almost anime to me," he says. This observation led him to reimagine these artifacts through a contemporary lens. By merging the solemnity of 3,000-year-old bronzes with whimsical "chibi" (super-deformed)…

As one of China's most dynamic "post-95" actresses, Zhao Lusi has redefined the landscape of historical and fantasy dramas with her magnetic performances. Her works are not just entertainment—they are gateways to understanding Chinese culture, blending traditional aesthetics, mythological lore, and progressive themes. This guide recommend her top Period Dramas: Love Like the Galaxy·星汉灿烂·月升沧海 Aired: July 2022 Genres: Family Saga, Political Intrigue, Romance Period Background: Loosely inspired by the Han Dynasty (206 BCE–220 CE), with fictional kingdoms and war-torn landscapes. Adapted From: Xing Han Can Lan by Guan Xin Ze Luan. Cheng Shaoshang (Zhao Lusi), a neglected noble daughter, grows up in a family overshadowed by political ambitions. Abandoned by her parents during wartime and raised by a manipulative aunt, she survives by feigning ignorance while secretly honing her intellect and resourcefulness. Her life intertwines with Ling Buyi (Wu Lei), a general haunted by his mysterious past and driven by a quest for justice. Their relationship evolves from mutual distrust to a partnership that navigates familial betrayals, wartime chaos, and court conspiracies. The series delves into Confucian family dynamics, where filial piety clashes with personal ambition. Shaoshang's journey—from a marginalized "left-behind child" to a strategist who saves her nation—mirrors the…

In the world of historical dramas, few details are as iconic as the sight of characters tying their wide sleeves before engaging in combat. This simple yet practical act, often seen in childhood favorites, is more than just a stylistic choice—it’s a reflection of ancient Chinese ingenuity and functionality. From battlefields to everyday life, the practice of tying sleeves has deep cultural roots, blending practicality with elegance. Sleeve-Tying The tradition of tying sleeves can be traced back to two main purposes: as a simplified version of arm guards in martial contexts and as a practical tool for daily tasks, known as panbo (襻膊). Both uses highlight the adaptability of ancient Chinese clothing to the needs of its wearers. Arm Guards: From Battlefields to Screens The earliest examples of arm guards date back to the Warring States period, where bronze arm guards were used by soldiers. These cylindrical metal protectors were designed to shield the forearm during combat. By the Han Dynasty, arm guards evolved into textile versions, such as the famous "Five Stars Rise in the East, Benefiting China" arm guard, made of intricately woven brocade. These guards were secured with straps, offering both protection and flexibility. In modern historical…

Purple, often associated with royalty and nobility, has long been considered a color of prestige and power. In ancient China, it was widely believed that commoners were forbidden from wearing purple, reserved exclusively for the elite. But was this truly the case? The answer, as it turns out, is more nuanced than a simple yes or no. The Origins of Purple’s Prestige The perception of purple as a noble color stems from two main factors: the high cost of purple dye and the influence of class systems and cultural trends. However, it’s important to note that not all shades of purple were created equal. The color spectrum includes countless variations, and not every hue was off-limits to the general populace. The Cost of Purple Dye Purple dye was indeed expensive to produce. One of the most common sources of purple dye was the murasaki plant, while another was sappanwood, which yielded a different shade of purple. However, plant-based dyes were less stable and durable compared to mineral-based alternatives. During the Han Dynasty, a breakthrough occurred with the discovery of "Han Purple," a synthetic pigment made from barium copper silicate. This vibrant hue, found on the terracotta warriors of the Qin…

In the world of historical dramas, the weimao (帷帽, veiled hat) is a staple of cinematic beauty. Often seen in scenes where the heroine’s face is revealed as the wind lifts her veil, this iconic accessory has become synonymous with ethereal charm. Yet, despite its visual appeal, the weimao is often dismissed as a “beautiful but useless” item. But is it truly just a decorative prop, or does it hold deeper historical significance? The Origins of the Veiled Hat The weimao traces its roots to the nomadic tribes of ancient Central Asia, where it was initially designed as a practical garment to shield wearers from sand and wind. Its predecessor, the mili (羃篱, a bamboo-framed veil), was worn by both men and women for protection during travel. Over time, the weimao evolved into a shorter, more refined version made of silk or gauze, with a wide brim and a veil that draped to the neck. By the Tang Dynasty (618–907 AD), it had become a fashionable accessory for women, symbolizing both modesty and status. A Symbol of Changing Times The weimao reached its peak popularity during the Tang Dynasty, a period marked by cultural openness and innovation. Historical records, such…

In the world of Chinese historical dramas, few accessories are as iconic as the forehead ribbon, or mo’e (抹额). Recently featured in popular series like Fangs of Fortune (大梦归离) and The Untamed (陈情令), this simple yet elegant accessory has captured the imagination of audiences worldwide. But what is the story behind this ancient adornment, and how has it evolved over time? From its origins as a practical tool to its role as a symbol of identity and status, the mo’e offers a fascinating glimpse into Chinese cultural heritage. A Symbol of Identity and Utility The forehead ribbon has a rich history, serving both practical and symbolic purposes. Its earliest recorded use dates back to the Qin Dynasty (221–206 BCE), where it was employed as a military insignia. Known as junrong mo’e (军容抹额), these ribbons were part of the uniform worn by soldiers and ceremonial guards. They were often paired with specific attire, such as red robes and wide trousers, to denote rank and role. Historical texts, including The Chronicles of the Han Dynasty, describe how the mo’e became a standard feature of military dress, symbolizing discipline and order. For women, the forehead ribbon had a more utilitarian function. During the…

In the world of ancient Chinese jewelry, few pieces have captured the imagination of modern enthusiasts quite like the so-called "Moth Crown" attributed to Li Jingxun (李静训), a young noblewoman from the Sui Dynasty. However, recent scholarly insights reveal that this exquisite artifact is not a crown at all, but a hairpin—a detail that has been overlooked in popular reproductions and adaptations. This revelation not only corrects a historical misconception but also deepens our appreciation for the intricate craftsmanship and cultural significance of this remarkable piece. The Misidentified "Crown" The hairpin, often mistaken for a crown, is a stunning example of Tang Dynasty jewelry. It belongs to the category of buyao (步摇, step-shaking ornaments), which were designed to sway gently with the wearer’s movements. Shen Congwen (沈从文), in his seminal work Research on Ancient Chinese Clothing (中国古代服饰研究), refers to it as a "moth-and-flower hair ornament," (闹蛾儿扑花首饰) while archaeological reports describe it simply as a "hair accessory." The confusion likely stems from the fact that most images of the artifact show only a partial view, leading many to assume it was a crown. However, crowns typically have a base structure, which this piece lacks. Instead, it is a multi-pronged hairpin, a…

In recent years, intricate half-face masks have become a popular accessory in historical dramas, leaving many viewers wondering: how did these delicate ornaments stay securely on the wearer’s face? The answer lies in the ingenious design of ancient Chinese masks, which have evolved over millennia, blending functionality with artistry. These masks, far from being mere decorative items, hold deep cultural significance and offer a fascinating glimpse into China’s rich heritage. The Mechanics of Ancient Masks At first glance, these masks appear to float effortlessly on the face, but a closer look reveals their practical design. Typically, they are secured by ties at the sides, fastened at the back of the head. A subtle groove along the nose bridge ensures the mask stays in place, preventing it from slipping. This clever combination of ties and structural support allowed wearers to move freely without fear of their masks falling off. Masks in Ancient China While some might associate such masks with Western traditions, China boasts a long history of intricate mask-making, dating back to the Shang and Zhou dynasties. The most iconic examples come from the Sanxingdui and Jinsha archaeological sites, where gold and bronze masks were unearthed. These masks, often depicting…

The Song Dynasty (960–1279 AD) is often romanticized for its elegance and sophistication, particularly in fashion. One of the most iconic beauty trends of the era was the "pearl makeup," where women adorned their faces with tiny pearls. But did the number and placement of these pearls signify social status or rank? The answer, surprisingly, is no. Pearl Makeup: A Universal Trend Contrary to popular belief, the use of pearls in makeup during the Song Dynasty was not regulated by social hierarchy. While the imperial court had strict rules for official attire and ceremonial dress—such as the number of dragons or phoenixes embroidered on robes—there were no such guidelines for pearl makeup. Pearls were a universal fashion statement, embraced by women across all social strata. The pearls were typically applied to specific areas of the face: between the eyebrows, along the temples, and on the cheeks. These placements were not arbitrary but followed aesthetic principles that highlighted the natural contours of the face. However, the number of pearls used was entirely a matter of personal preference and financial means, not rank. Pearls as a Symbol of Wealth While the number of pearls did not denote social status, their abundance often…