Early qipao style is straight and androgynous (Figure 1). The loose cut with wide sleeves closely resembles Manchu women’s long gowns, though a typical Manchu example would be embroidered with elaborate patterns. The latter qipao fashion suggests evolution through its tailoring, design and materials (Figure 2). Changing styles of qipao mirrored women’s changing identities, seeming to symbolize both progressive modernity and traditional attitudes from the 1920s to the 1940s. The styles of the qipao also show the Nationalist party’s anxiety over the body of clothed women. Should they uphold the feminine ideal of the past or break with tradition and embrace a modernity in which they advance a stronger society? the emancipation of women and their dress Urban educated females were recognized as examples of the ‘New Woman’ in the early Republican period (1911–1924). Unlike their secluded ancestors, they could enter public domains such as school campuses and parks, as well as participate in street demonstrations. Their presence was prevalent in newspapers, fictional literature, films and the popular advertising posters (better known as ‘calendar posters’).5 A typical example of a calendar poster features an attractive woman dressed in an elegant qipao promoting Indanthrene fabric (Figure 3).6 A question (on the right side of the image) asks the viewers why she is filled with joy. Four reasons are stated on the left: she is wearing Indanthrene fabric which has the most vibrant colours and does not fade in the summer sun, nor do the colours wear off after washing. Furthermore, its durability means its wearers will not waste money. She
Figure 1. Long-sleeved qipao, early twentieth century, chestnut brown silk satin trimmed with black cord, 119.5 × 119 cm. Hong Kong: Hong Kong Heritage Museum, 2006.50.56, purchased
Figure 2. Long-sleeved qipao, early twentieth century, light green silk with woven floral motif, 101 × 121 cm. Hong Kong: Hong Kong Heritage Museum, 2006.50.38, purchased
ng: gendered by design 57 is thus crowned ‘Miss Happy’, conveying the idea of satisfied consumption, femininity and wisdom. It implies that women who choose this brand are not merely fashionable but also understand the virtue of frugality. In the past, only daughters from affluent and open-minded families were educated, usually by private tutors. This practice changed with the establishment of public schools in the early twentieth century when more women could leave their homes and study in a shared environment. Progressive female students chose the qipao as their uniform and after-school outfits because of its origin as a man’s robe. An example is a light purple qipao (Figure 4) that resembles the long and embroidered gowns of Manchu women; the sinuous floral patterns distinguish this garment
as a qipao. It would have served as an after-school gown for a young woman from a wealthy family. Female students entered the realm of mass education previously reserved for men, challenging accepted patriarchal social structures. This change marked a reformation of Chinese society that was based on a reinterpreted Confucian philosophical system, dictating how women of differing ages ought to behave. Chen Duxiu (1879–1942), editor of New Youth (Xin Qingnian), the most influential periodical of the time, proclaimed that it was essential to support women’s liberation. Fervent calls to intensify progress only grew as young women became aware of their new citizenry responsibilities; choosing to wear the qipao signified their rejection of foreign products and styles because it was an indigenous invention. These transformations defied the traditional familial structure that had kept women almost completely naive about their social surroundings and rights.7 The rise of the qipao coincided with the re-evaluation of women’s rights, and an expansion of their roles beyond the domestic contexts of motherhood and housewifery. By the 1890s, women were already encouraged to be physically strong and intellectually enlightened, anticipating the ban on foot binding and changes in women’s education.8 Young women began to participate in sporting events such as gymnastics and swimming, unprecedented activity as they had never before been encouraged to show physical strength and expose their bodies. Female students participated in the anti-Western protests in the May Thirtieth Movement in 1925.9 Subsequently, they also joined the Nationalist Revolution, reviving the woman soldier icon that had been highly publicized in the 1911 Revolution.10 Support for educating young women was elaborated by Cai Yuanpei (1868–1940), the Chancellor of Beijing University; he reasoned in a series of lectures and articles that educated women would strengthen the nation because the well-being of children relied heavily on their mothers’ physical and mental vigour.11 Secluded and untutored women were no longer considered a virtue of Chinese society. Unlike ubiquitous images of attractive women selling products, ‘Copying Book’ (Figure 5) is a poignant depiction of a young woman with short bobbed hair and qipao teaching a girl child. With stacks of books neatly presented on the left, she is likely to be a teacher, helping a student learn to write in a classroom. QIPAO
and society
Early qipao styles are conservative, such as one tailored from a generous quantity of a luminous heavy satin textile, intended for the winter season (Figure 1). Its design and plain colour emulates the Manchu jacket that is usually paired with trousers (Figure 6). This gown resembles the one worn by Song Qingling (seen in photographs) when she first embraced the style.12 Photography, a technology taken up in China in the late nineteenth century, greatly helped to popularize this new dress style. The simple robe first worn by female students gave way to the seductive versions that only later became the hallmarks of the style.13 This androgynous design signified a break from the past because it transgressed gender boundaries, challenging traditional definitions of how a woman should dress. The loose-fitting qipao allowed greater freedom of movement, with feet and breasts
unbound. Switching from two-piece to one-piece clothing showed the way in which some women came to represent a new-found gender equality. It also ushered in a new era that progressed from the first failed Republic of 1911 when Han ethnic dress was chosen to symbolize Chinese culture, an attempt to set itself apart from the Manchurians’ rule.14 Furthermore, its mixed origin suggested a visual resistance against the hierarchical Confucian social order that had dictated female subjection for centuries. Redefining a woman’s place became symbolic of the nation’s struggle. ‘For the rise and fall of the country’, it was proclaimed by politicians and the intelligentsia, ‘women’s adornment bears responsibility’.15 While qipao became popular in the city and debates about women’s education intensified, those living in the countryside, however, did not benefit from these changes which were largely connected with urban improvements in education, social progress and wealth. Many continued to live under strict rules dictated by tradition and social constraint.16
In the late 1920s, ordinary citizens began to express increasing concerns that the long and loose-fitting gown covered a woman’s femininity, making it difficult to distinguish the sexes. Ambiguity of dress led to anxiety over women’s bodies. A visual absence of femininity caused ordinary citizens and politicians to propose it as a cause for an imbalanced society. In this way politics sought to shape women’s clothing as men attempted to dictate clothing styles for women, while women strove to make their own choices. The dress gradually veered away from angular tailoring (Figure 1) and a more fitted garment emerged to show off the shapely body, redefining the boundary of male and female. Despite debates on gender equality, many young women continued to focus on their appearance, obsessing with adornment rather than intellectual engagements. School headmistresses were frustrated by female students’ lack of motivation to educate themselves; their attention was focused instead on make-up and jewellery. This return to feminine appearances was promulgated by the Nationalists as a medium to re-inscribe their version of Confucian ideals of social behaviour; a woman ought to display her feminine attributes as a mark of her gender.17 A hand-painted poster made around the 1930s (Figure 7) helps to contextualize this discussion. A young woman holding flowers embodies one of the ideals of the time; her make-up, permed hair and jewellery exemplify the materialistic emphasis of womanhood. Her gown resembles a well-preserved blue qipao with flower patterns (Figure 8). It is shapely and feminine, especially compared to Figure 1. The delicate patterned material draws attention to the wearer, while the side slits display the transparent underskirt and the wearer’s legs. In addition to the style, the selection of the qipao’s colours and patterns also helped to focus attention on a shapely figure. The red summer dress (Figure 9) with short sleeves and abbreviated length clearly reveals the female body.
This feminization of the qipao is well documented in photographs and calendar posters in the 1930s and 1940s. Early calendar posters rendered models in traditional two-piece outfits with tiny feet, but the combination of qipao and high heels gradually dominated. It is ironic that no sooner were women free from foot binding than high-heeled shoes became the fashionable footwear that emphasized feminine sensuality, while restricting a woman’s movement, albeit in a less painful manner. Seductively dressed women were deemed frivolous, affirming the impact of fashion
magazines and movies, and the heightened sensuality of printed images was what dominated the public’s impression.18 Ultra-feminine women overshadowed the female students who chose to wear the gown to represent their gender equality rather than enhancing their appearance in a way that drew attention to their bodies. Clearly, despite the serious appearance of female students, many women were not keen to give up the luxury of adornment. A translation of Henrik Ibsen’s (1828– 1906) A Doll’s House, which was run in New Youth in March 1919, prompted a series of Chinese plays and novels in the years that followed. They highlighted the dilemmas facing young women, such as the choice between love marriages and arranged ones, and the contrasts between the progressive students and traditional mah-jong-playing concubines captured audiences’ attention. The latter theme was of particular interest because it suggested that adornment was corrupting. Decorating the body was deemed frivolous, obstructing natural beauty and intellectual
ng: gendered by design 63 development. Women were encouraged by the conservative elements in society at that time to give up their imported perfume, jewellery and high heels, while plain garments and simple hair styles were advocated. The challenge to convince them to abandon their habits prompted the writer Xu Dishan (1893–1941) to advocate a complete revamp of a woman’s wardrobe in his 1920 essay ‘Women’s Dress’.19 Skirts, earrings and long hair were signs of obedience in a patriarchal society, binding women to depend on men. He asserted, ‘if women want to be active in new society, they must first reform their clothing’.20 Xu favoured a total abandonment that would free a woman’s body and mind; provocative fashion would only contribute to the stereotype of women as materialistic playthings. He went on to suggest that women should dress like men to erase gender differences and to save them from wasting time adorning themselves when they could accomplish more useful tasks.21 PEONY PAVILION
and a collection of
QIPAO
It was during the research stage of this article that I became aware of a collection of qipao that was originally owned by Yonfan (b. 1947), a Hong Kong-based film director. The collection now belongs to Hong Kong Heritage Museum, which was established in 2000 to preserve local culture with a collection of design, Cantonese opera costumes, jewellery, Lingnan (Southern) style Chinese paintings, photography and folk art. Yonfan purchased the qipao from a reputable source in Shanghai in order to authenticate the costumes in his film Peony Pavilion (2001). The gowns were part of an assortment of early twentieth-century clothing discovered in a trunk in Shanghai. Subsequently, he sold them because they became too difficult to preserve, and the museum purchased part of the director’s collection through an auction sale. Yonfan admitted that he was excited when he found these garments because he believed that replicating the costumes of the period was critical in a story of women grappling with personal and social identities.22 The costumes in the film were based on Yonfan’s collection of qipao and other clothing from the 1930s, using some Indian and Thai textiles because of their vibrant colours. In total, the film production used 260 costumes with jewellery lent by Sotheby’s auction house.23 Unfortunately, no original written documentation accompanied the dresses when they were sold in Shanghai; the auction house and museum specialists relied on the craft and style of tailoring and the quality of textiles to attest to the authenticity of the well-preserved items. Exact dates are therefore difficult to determine, but they are discussed in light of the social changes that took place in the 1920s to the 1940s. QIPAO
and women’s identity in
PEONY PAVILION
Dress is instrumental in the representation of modern Chinese women’s dilemmas in Peony Pavilion. Does a woman (Lan) have to dress in an androgynous fashion in order to express her determination to be useful in a new era? Do lavish costumes embody a woman (Jade) who is bound by tradition and social environment? The
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story takes place in Suzhou, in the Jiangsu province of Eastern China in the 1930s. Jade (played by Japanese actress, Rie Miyazawa) is a famous songstress courtesan, married into an affluent family as a concubine. She develops a relationship with a female cousin of the family and is also secretly admired by the family butler. Lan (played by Taiwanese actress, Joey Wang), the cousin, is a teacher who wants to be an independent woman. When she meets Shing (played by Hong Kong actor, Daniel Wu), an official from the North, her desire leads her to a passionate affair that threatens her relationship with Jade and challenges her sense of identity. In the end, both characters’ romantic affairs with men are unfulfilled and they can only depend on each other. The name of the film and the music in Peony Pavilion comes from Tang Xianzu’s The Peony Pavilion written in 1598.24 This love story, which became the best-known Kun opera, centres around a young maiden named Du Linliang who dreams of romantic intimacy with a young scholar, Liu Mengmei, whom she has never met.25 Before dying from lovesickness for the stranger, she painted a self-portrait that is displayed in a shrine her parents built to commemorate her. Three years later, when her undying desire brings her back to the mortal world, she finds the young scholar near her shrine. They declare their love for each other and she confesses to being a ghost and urges him to resurrect her. They elope after she is brought back to life. Her resurrection and their secret marriage are officially sanctioned by imperial verdict after the young scholar passes the highest palace examination. Much has been written about this story, particularly about the radical depiction of the heroine. The portrayal of her desire and determination is unusual in a time when women were generally submissive and had little right to make their own choices.26 Instead of showing one woman’s path to eventual happiness, the film Peony Pavilion involved two different women. Their environments differ dramatically: a mansion filled with nostalgia and a girls’ school aiming at modernization. This contrast is also revealed in their dress; Lan dresses in plain qipao, suits and tuxedo in Jade’s company, assuming the male role. She wears a short bob, something of which Xu Dishan, who advocated no adornment, would approve. Jade’s hair changes from one scene to next, all in permed styles with ornaments. Lan wants to break free from the feudal mentality of the old society that she witnesses in her cousin’s house where Jade lives. Her professional life contrasts with Jade’s loneliness, trapped in the mansion and treated as a possession. Throughout the film, Lan wears loose and straight cut qipao, similar to the light purple qipao (Figure 4) except in more sombre colours like the deep tone of the Manchu jacket (Figure 6). Jade’s sumptuous qipao that resemble the styles and colours of Figures 8 and 9 become subdued only after she leaves her husband to live with Lan. The re-enactment of the opera Peony Pavilion appears several times in the film, with the two women singing the parts of the lovers. The ambiguity is deliberate; what they experience is not romantic love and the director makes it clear that both women have desire for men. Their bond comes from their wish to be loved and cared for in an uncertain environment. The declining family lives decadently; the mansion is filled with opium smoke, caged birds and rare antiques. Near bankruptcy does not bother the concubines who continue to discuss spending money on
ng: gendered by design 65 expensive fabrics for new outfits while playing mah-jong. Jade’s husband (the head of the household) smokes opium profusely while the butlers sell the family’s antiques to make ends meet. Lan is eager to play her part in her country’s modernization in her effort to educate young girls. She is, however, constantly drawn back to the old world through her association with Jade. This tension between the old and the new is particularly apparent in the way the students’ plain qipao and school house diverge sharply from Jade’s luxurious costumes and the extravagant mansion. Even the physical appearances of the actresses match the characters they represent. Lan is played by Joey Wang, who is tall with a confident demeanour, while Rie Miyazawa embodies Jade in a feminine and dainty manner. In a revealing scene in the film, Jade insists that her daughter practises writing so that she can ‘enter society’ to be useful, something Jade is unable to do. The term ‘enter society’ means to contribute to the country and a woman must be educated in order to do so. Though Jade is well trained in her profession, her skills of singing and dancing are considered mere entertainment, useless in the building of the nation. The scene is arranged like ‘Copying Book’ (Figure 5) with mother and daughter working on the exercise together. Though the young woman in the poster wears a feminine qipao, she is not adorned with jewellery. Her gaze focuses on the exercise rather than engages the viewers. The writing in the exercise book is translated as: Accumulating little, (it) becomes big, From small to large, Saving amount together, Is the path to wealth.
Besides practising penmanship, the little girl learns that frugality is the foundation of wealth. She would grow up to be both elegant and wise like ‘Miss Happy’ (Figure 3). This lesson of virtue is illustrated in another calendar poster for Indanthrene fabric (Figure 10). It features two young women, one in a two-piece outfit carrying flowers, the other in a modest but brightly coloured qipao carrying a stack of books. The statement underneath the image states (reading from right to left): ‘Elegant and frugal female students choose Indanthrene fabric’. Three fabric samples deemed most appropriate for students are illustrated. The brand’s durable colour is highlighted on both sides of the poster (‘it [the colour] never fades’). This is further emphasized in the writing on the bottom corners that tells buyers to recognize the seal on the fabric as a guarantee of colour durability. Most tellingly, it stresses that this is the essential quality for school uniform. The featured qipao is evidently made with the middle fabric sample. In these fabrics and qipao prudent young women become desirable role models, as dutiful daughters who do not waste their parents’ money and good housewives who spend their husbands’ earnings wisely. We are reminded of the comparison between the concubines in Peony Pavilion who spend the household income on gambling and lavish costumes, and Lan, the schoolteacher who always wear plain qipao. In a larger social context, prudent women help to contribute to the wealth of the nation.
ng: gendered by design 67 conflicts of identity and representation The plot of the film and calendar posters such as ‘Copying Book’ (Figure 5) show the progress women made, as well as the conflicts they endured in order to define themselves. Large sections of Chinese society, however, could not tolerate short hair and shapeless qipao. Impassioned responses among male intellectuals concerning women’s issues culminated in numerous essays, stories and letters. Public abuses were reported by modern writers like Lu Xun (1881–1936).27 He sympathized with the dilemmas women faced and once lamented, ‘A woman has so many parts to her body that life is very hard indeed’.28 Some young women who were dressed in qipao suffered severe physical retributions such as having their breasts cut off by angry mobs. The cruel punishment aimed to frighten them from daring to demand equality by wearing this robe of male origin.29 As these incidents demonstrate, clothing was not a simple fashion statement. Sartorial choices could be highly divisive; aligning a revival of Confucianism with the modernization of a nation. The effect of differing ideologies surrounding qipao is apparent in the changing styles of the garment; the length of the hem and the sleeves fluctuate and the seams increasingly tighten to accentuate the contour of the body. These close-fitting gowns create a perception of exposure that is perhaps more stimulating than nakedness because it emphasizes feminine appearance in the silhouette of the bosom and the curve of the hip. A figure-hugging qipao made from a translucent fabric (Figure 11) raises many questions. The intended wearer of such a daring design would certainly cause controversy. Would she be a mah-jong-playing concubine like the ones in Peony Pavilion that many found undesirable as the role model for modern woman? Or perhaps she was once a progressive student who succumbed to tradition and to an arranged marriage because being an independent woman proved to be too demanding. The choice of material is unusual even if it was worn with an undergarment. It probably served as intimate wear to appeal to the gaze of a man, only to be worn in private. In a hand-painted poster (Figure 12), one of the models wears a black transparent qipao with an underskirt. Several examples of translucent qipao from the 1930s and 1940s were on display in an exhibition titled, ‘The Evergreen Classic: The Transformation of the Qipao’ held at Hong Kong Museum of History in 2010, but none are as short and close-fitting as the one discussed here; in contrast, their tailoring was loose and their length was long. Only in the 1950s did the qipao adopt the curvy style, with the introduction of tailoring darts, but by this point transparent materials were no longer fashionable. Hence, the black qipao (Figure 11) is particularly provocative, signifying the freedom of choice between customer and tailor. The models on calendar posters became increasingly seductive, illustrating an enticing version of femininity to sell products. In several examples, the qipao are intentionally depicted to face the viewer, conspicuously emphasizing the models’ silhouettes. Two jovial women are pictured in the Kwong Sang Hong poster, promoting cosmetics (Figure 13). Their coquettish demeanours combined with permed hair, delicate make-up and shapely qipao with high-heeled shoes are all the height of fashion. The nipples of the model on the left are visible, a titillating feature that
was common in the posters of this period.30 This image is still popular in the company’s product promotion and packaging today because of its widely recognized nostalgic association with the qipao. Women’s sexualized appearance, however, was thought to be demeaning by many for suggesting a lack of intellectual development and contribution to the nation. Instead, people felt that fragile beauty of the past should be replaced by a robust body and a cultivated mind that played a part in a stronger society through producing and raising tougher and better offspring in a modernized China. In truth, it seems that women could only be liberated according to men’s rules, and these dictated how and when their bodies should be exposed and put a social value on their usefulness as bearers of children and, occasionally, as soldiers. The increasingly alluring qipao and the sexually charged female images did not represent the political and social struggles young women encountered in their
ng: gendered by design 71 daily lives. To complicate matters further, the New Life Movement, instigated by the Nationalists in 1934 and ideologically in opposition to the Communists, attempted to create new lifestyle rules for the people. Part of the reform included redefining gender roles based on a reinterpreted Confucian model. It regulated that women were to return to their traditional duties and their bodies should be concealed but, as we have seen, examples of clothing, such as the black see-through floral qipao (Figure 11) and calendar posters, portrayed a different standard. The New Life Movement was in fact one of many manifestations of anxiety and tensions in the Nationalist party.31 Body size during the early twentieth century changed significantly both in reality and in terms of ideology and representation. As a broad generalization, women in the 1910s were petite and fragile, while their counterparts in the 1930s could be robust and often confidently flirtatious. The combination of Euro-American images, such as those from Hollywood, and the promotion of education and physical fitness accounted for the change.32 Visual media emphasized femininity that empowered women, but it also exposed them to public scrutiny. The growing popularity of qipao coincided with these conflicting social developments and the symbolic nature of the garment was palpable, particularly when coupled with the short hairstyle young women favoured.33 While China struggled to calm internal unrest and resist external threats, urban women participated in the modernizing fashion movement that not only articulated the nation’s image but freed them from authoritarian traditions and reclaimed autonomy in the process. The varying styles of this one-piece garment embodied the turbulent changes the country was going through at the time. Compare the light purple qipao (Figure 4) with a pale green floral design (Figure 2) and a light brown qipao (Figure 14) that is considerably shorter and tighter. Though delicately designed, Figures 2 and 14 are made with less refined textiles, suggesting that the qipao had become widespread, and inexpensive materials were therefore selected. Other polished details like the ornate underskirt are also absent. From the 1930s, Western tailoring techniques such as darts and in-set sleeves were gradually incorporated to shape the qipao. The shortage of materials caused by the war between China and Japan and the conflict between the Nationalists and the Communists called for more economical and thus innovative methods to construct dresses. The results were shortened lengths, with capped or no sleeves for warmer seasons. Ready-made versions became available and fashionable.34 In the Heritage Museum examples, zippers and metal buttons replace the traditional knots typical in earlier tailoring; the availability of modern materials lowered the cost of the garment, making it easier to wear and more accessible across class divisions. It became an everyday outfit, no longer only for the wealthy clientele who first made the gown popular. Both Figures 2 and 14 were worn regularly, as the sweat stains on the collars and sleeves demonstrate. Flower patterns (Figure 14) are raised, invoking a textured quality that enhances the shapeliness of the dress. Even the less curvaceous gown must have attracted attention. Comparing Figure 9 to Figures 1 and 8, the bright gown (Figure 9) is decorated with Art Deco-inspired motifs, distinguishable by the angular design (Figure 1) and the traditional floral patterns (Figure 8). The differences are even more obvious when looking back at the jacket that is oversized and plain (Figure 6). The shapely qipao proves that the
debates over the female body gradually died down, though these debates were, in any case, silenced in mainland China by the Communist regime in 1949. conclusion Qipao continued to be worn by Chinese women after the 1940s, but largely outside mainland China because a feminized appearance was criticized as a sign of gender oppression; androgynous and plain colour clothing such as grey cotton tops and trousers were favoured.35 Due to political instability, many talented and experienced tailors migrated to British-colonized Hong Kong where they could make a living and be creative in an unrestricted social environment. Styles of qipao multiplied with the patronage of wealthy clients and Hong Kong movie actresses, and it quickly became a commonly worn garment. This trend persisted well into the 1960s. Analysing a selection of surviving qipao and its visual representations provides a glimpse of the tensions between tradition and modernity, masculinity and femininity, culture and commercialism. We come to understand that a new generation of Chinese women demanded to be taken seriously, though it may also be argued that the qipao and the ubiquitous feminine images demeaned their intellectual and physical strength. Debates surrounding the dressing of a woman’s body and conflicting regulations were constantly in flux; demonstrating the complex and unstable political battleground of the female body. That alluring qipao images were popular
ng: gendered by design 73 with the public but were also criticized by officials and the intelligentsia reveals the complex nature of the apparel. The gown also served as a vehicle to mediate internal social struggles and external political threats. The evolution of this garment continues; at the twenty-ninth Olympic Games held in Beijing in 2008, ceremony hostesses wore uniforms designed with several qipao features, notably the high collar and embroidered buttons. In international and local beauty pageants, contestants representing Hong Kong and mainland China wear qipao in the round of national dress, cementing its status as a cultural marker. Besides Peony Pavilion, Wong Kar-wai’s film In the Mood for Love (2000) and Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution (2007) also feature qipao prominently because of the gown’s unbroken association with women’s identities in the early twentieth century. In this way its hybrid nature connotes cultural and historical changes as well as gender redefinition and national pride. Acknowledgements I would like to thank Alexandra Kim and the anonymous reviewers for their constructive comments. Thanks also go to Valerie Cumming for her help during the final stage of publication. I am indebted to the staff at Hong Kong Heritage Museum and Fukuoka Asian Art Museum for providing access to images. And a particular note of gratitude goes to Verity Wilson who patiently advised me during the initial phase of revision and to Dr Roslyn L. Hammers for her encouragement in the writing of this article. references 1 There is a large amount of literature on the May Fourth movement, for example, Beyond the May Fourth Paradigm: In Search of Chinese Modernity, ed. by Kai-wing Chow (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2008), and Vera Schwarcz, The Chinese Enlightenment: Intellectuals and the Legacy of the May Fourth Movement of 1919 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986). 2 Qi (‘banner’) is the name of the Manchu people, used to distinguish them from the Han Chinese. In the Hong Kong Heritage Museum records, the qipao discussed in this article are identified as ‘female cheongsam’, which affirms that the term ‘cheongsam’ was originally used to refer to a man’s robe. For a thorough discussion on the origin of qipao, refer to Antonia Finnane, Changing Clothes in China: Fashion, History, Nation (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), pp. 141–57. 3 For a comprehensive discussion on the transition from the two-piece outfit to the qipao, refer to Ellen Johnston Laing, ‘Visual Evidence for the Evolution of “Politically Correct” Dress for Women in Early Twentieth Century Shanghai’, Nan Nü, 5:1 (2003), 69–114. 4 Johnston Laing, p. 143. In an exhibition titled ‘A Sketch of Soong Ching Ling and her Artifacts’ held at the Dr Sun Yat-Sen Museum in Hong Kong in 2009, a qipao she wore regularly during the Sino-Japanese War in the 1930s and 1940s was displayed prominently in the ‘Patriotic Sentiments’ section to emphasize the significance of the dress in the role Song played in national politics. 5 For an insightful discussion about calendar posters and advertisements on women’s dresses in early twentieth-century China, refer to Johnston Laing, ‘Visual Evidence’, pp. 69–114. 6 Indanthrene is a dye that originated in India. It is available in different colours with blue being the most commonly used. Chinese dyeing factories used the dye to produce Indanthrene cloth that was meant to be colour-fast. It was popular during the 1930s–1940s. See The Evergreen Classic: Transformation of the Qipao (Hong Kong Museum of History, 2011), pp. 122–23 for more examples of calendar posters designed for the fabric company. 7 Martha Huang, ‘“A Woman Has So Many Parts to Her Body, Life is Very Hard Indeed”’, in China Chic: East Meet West, ed. by Valerie Steele and John S. Major (Yale University Press, 1999), pp. 133–39 (p. 134). 8 Antonia Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear? A National Problem’, Modern China, 22:2 (April 1996), 99–131 (pp. 106–07). 9 Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear?’, p. 109. 10 Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear?’, p. 159. 11 Huang, ‘A Woman Has So Many Parts to Her Body’, p. 135. There is a substantial amount of literature about Cai Yuenpei and his ideas on education. For a general discussion, refer to Lizhong Zhang, ‘Cai Yuanpei (1868–1940)’, Prospect: The Quarterly Review of Comparative Education, 23 (2000), 147–57.
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12 For a detailed discussion on how Song Qingling utilized clothing in her life as the spouse of Sun Yatsen, refer to Verity Wilson, ‘Dressing for Leadership in China: Wives and Husbands in an Age of Revolutions (1911–1976)’, Gender and History, 14 (November 2002), 608–28. 13 At True Light Middle School in Hong Kong, female students continue to wear a qipao style uniform, demonstrating the garment’s unbroken association with educated women. In an exhibition ‘The Evergreen Classic: Transformation of the Qipao’ held at Hong Kong Museum of History in 2010, qipao style uniforms from seven secondary schools in Hong Kong were on display, demonstrating its popularity from the 1930s–1950s. For a detailed discussion on qipao and Hong Kong school uniform, refer to Hazel Clark, The Cheongsam (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), pp. 48–52. 14 Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear?’, p. 112. 15 Finnane, Changing Clothes in China, p. 174. 16 Francesca Dal Lago, ‘Crossed Legs in 1930s Shanghai: How “Modern” The Modern Woman?’, East Asian History, 19 (June 2000), 103–44 (pp. 113–14). 17 Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear?’, p. 117. 18 Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear?’, pp. 118–19. 19 Huang, ‘A Woman Has So Many Parts to Her Body’, p. 137; Xu Dishan, Women’s Dress (Nuzi di yifu) (1920). 20 Huang, ‘A Woman Has So Many Parts to Her Body’, p. 137. 21 Huang, ‘A Woman Has So Many Parts to Her Body’, pp. 137–38. 22 Hong Kong Heritage Museum staff informed me of the provenance of the qipao discussed in this article in my initial visit to view the objects in 2009. 23 Information from Peony Pavilion DVD set booklet. Refer to Peony Pavilion [accessed 14 August 2014] for selected images from the movie. 24 The film’s Chinese name, Youyuan Jingmeng, refers directly to two acts titled ‘A stroll in the garden’ and ‘Awakened dream’ in the original story. In constructing the relationship between Jade and Lan, Yonfan references the two acts repeatedly in the film. 25 Kun opera is also known as Kunqun opera, one of the oldest forms of Chinese stage performances. It was developed in the Kunshan region of Jiangsu in the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). 26 For an example of scholarship discussing the role of women in Peony Pavilion, refer to Judith T. Zeitlin, ‘Shared Dreams: The Story of the Three Wives’ Commentary on The Peony Pavilion’, Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies, 54:1 (June 1994), 127–79. 27 Eileen J. Cheng, ‘Gendered Spectacles: Lu Xun on Gazing at Women and Other Pleasures’, Modern Chinese Literature and Culture (1999), pp. 1–36. The author explores Lu Xun’s views on woman emancipation and its consequences. By drawing attention to themselves, Lu believed that women became easy targets, subjecting their bodies to male gaze and desire and public criticism. 28 Lu Xun, ‘Anxious Thoughts on Natural Breast’, in Lu Xun: Selected Works, Vol. 2, trans. by Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang (Beijing: Foreign Language Press, 1985), pp. 353–55 (p. 355); Finnane, Changing Clothes in China, p. 157. 29 Louise Edwards, ‘Policing the Modern Woman in Republican China’, Modern China (2000), pp. 115–47 (p. 129). 30 During my visit to Fukuoka Asian Art Museum in Japan, the curator confirmed that suggestive nipples are common in the calendar posters. Several examples from the museum collection affirmed this trend. 31 Arif Dirlik, ‘The Ideological Foundation of the New Life Movement: A Study in Counterrevolution’, Journal of Asian Studies, 34.4 (August 1975), 945–80. 32 Finnane, ‘What Should Chinese Women Wear?’, p. 118. 33 Finnane, Changing Clothes in China, pp. 157–60. 34 Bao Mingxin et al., Zhongguo qipao (Chinese Qipao) (Shanghai: Shanghai Wenhua Chubanshe, 1998), p. 2. 35 Hung-yok Ip argues that prominent women in the Communist Party continued to wear qipao to indicate female beauty as a valuable attribute in nation building. See ‘Fashioning Appearances: Feminine Beauty in Chinese Communist Revolutionary Culture’ in Visualizing Beauty: Gender and Identity in Modern East Asian, ed. by Aida Yuen Wong (Hong Kong University Press, 2012), pp. 63–78.
Sandy Ng received her PhD from the School of Oriental and African Studies (University of London), specializing in modern Chinese art. She is an Assistant Professor in the School of Design at Hong Kong Polytechnic University, teaching Visual Culture and Design History. She is currently working on projects that explore issues of artistic expression, selfhood and modernity in the twentieth century.
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