In a quiet workshop in Taipei, three young women meticulously sew and iron under the watchful eye of a master dressmaker with decades of experience in creating the classic qipao.
Lin Chin-te (林錦德), 74, is among a handful of craftsmen in Taiwan who still specialize in handmaking the high-collar, figure-hugging garment which was once part of many women’s daily wardrobes.
His workshop is hung with dresses, from elaborate long embroidered red silk qipaos to shorter length versions in more wearable materials.
photo: AFP
Seen as increasingly impractical and pricier than off-the-peg versions, the tailormade qipao is now mostly worn at weddings and special events. Lin worries dressmakers will no longer learn his skills and takes on apprentices to pass down his know-how.
Hung Chu-tsu, 37, is one of Lin’s three 30-something female pupils.
“The master is very patient,” she says, wearing a knee-length blue floral qipao she made herself. “We start practicing from the basics and learn one stitch at a time.”
photo: AFP
Hung says she thinks qipaos are beautiful and left her career as a nurse to learn to be a dressmaker after having a child.
Her plan is to open her own shop, selling handmade qipaos adapted to a modern life. Often smiling, with braces holding up his trousers and a thimble wedged on his middle finger, Lin says he wants to ensure his 60 years of experience do not go to waste.
“I teach my pupils as much as I can and hopefully they can strike out on their own in the future,” he says.
photo: AFP
“QIPAO HUNK”
The qipao — meaning “Qi robe” — began as a long, loose dress worn by the Manchus or “Qi” people who ruled China from the 17th century to the early 1900s. Its popularity took off in 1920s Shanghai when it was modified into a fitted must-have, favored by actresses and intellectuals as a symbol of femininity and refinement.
Also known as cheongsam in Cantonese, it fell out of favor in China after communist forces seized power in 1949 following the Chinese Civil War and the dress became associated with capitalism.
But the qipao gained a following in Taiwan, where defeated Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) leader Chiang Kai-shek (將介石) set up a separate government after fleeing China. Chiang’s glamorous wife Soong Mei-ling (宋美齡) belonged to Shanghai high society and was a qipao enthusiast, influencing trends in Taiwan. Many women wore the dress daily until the 1970s.
Mass-produced, cheaper clothes eventually dented its appeal and some designers say recent growing anti-China sentiment has also put off young people as they associate the dress with that country’s culture. However, Lee Wei-fan (李威樊), 25, says there is still a fanbase. He studied qipao making under an old master for five years after deciding to carve out a niche in a field few of his design peers wanted to go into. Lee opened his own business six months ago and has built a following on social media where he goes under the name “Qipao Hunk” — something he blushes to admit was a publicity stunt.
His clients range from brides to businesswomen who see the dress as elegant. Lee says there is increasing interest in traditional Asian styles, which he hopes to tap into.
“Those of us who have a rarer craft will be more competitive,” he says.
Neither Lin nor Lee would reveal their prices but a master dressmaker charges from around US$260, not including the price of fabric.
CINEMATIC APPEAL
Arguably Taiwan’s most famous qipao maker, Chen Chung-hsin (陳忠信), 65, regularly opens up his modest workshop to tour groups and school trips to build enthusiasm for qipao making. Known for creating costumes for movies including Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-hsien’s (侯孝賢) Cannes-winning martial arts epic The Assassin, Chen learned his skills from his father and inherited his shop. He says he makes qipaos “with a happy heart” for his clients.
“I hope that more people will see the traditional tailormade qipao is different from an off-the-peg one — mine flatters their shapes more,” says Chen. One of his loyal clients, Taipei marketing executive Yogi Ma, has set up a qipao club aimed at making the classic dress a daily wardrobe staple once more, saying it can suit any figure and can be modernized using different cuts and fabrics.
“The qipao is very elegant and pretty, it’s a pity that fewer women wear them now,” says Ma, 42, who sees it as representing the “beauty of ethnic Chinese women.”
Her Facebook-based club has over 4,000 followers and arranges events where members wear the dress to take part in activities, from whiskey tasting to flower arranging. She hopes that by promoting the dress she will help skills like Chen’s survive.
“If more people like the qipao, there won’t be an issue of lacking people to learn the craft,” she said.
Climate change, political headwinds and diverging market dynamics around the world have pushed coffee prices to fresh records, jacking up the cost of your everyday brew or a barista’s signature macchiato. While the current hot streak may calm down in the coming months, experts and industry insiders expect volatility will remain the watchword, giving little visibility for producers — two-thirds of whom farm parcels of less than one hectare. METEORIC RISE The price of arabica beans listed in New York surged by 90 percent last year, smashing on Dec. 10 a record dating from 1977 — US$3.48 per pound. Robusta prices have
The resignation of Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) co-founder Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) as party chair on Jan. 1 has led to an interesting battle between two leading party figures, Huang Kuo-chang (黃國昌) and Tsai Pi-ru (蔡壁如). For years the party has been a one-man show, but with Ko being held incommunicado while on trial for corruption, the new chair’s leadership could be make or break for the young party. Not only are the two very different in style, their backgrounds are very different. Tsai is a co-founder of the TPP and has been with Ko from the very beginning. Huang has
A few years ago, getting a visa to visit China was a “ball ache,” says Kate Murray. The Australian was going for a four-day trade show, but the visa required a formal invitation from the organizers and what felt like “a thousand forms.” “They wanted so many details about your life and personal life,” she tells the Guardian. “The paperwork was bonkers.” But were she to go back again now, Murray could just jump on the plane. Australians are among citizens of almost 40 countries for which China now waives visas for business, tourism or family visits for up to four weeks. It’s
A dozen excited 10-year-olds are bouncing in their chairs. The small classroom’s walls are lined with racks of wetsuits and water equipment, and decorated with posters of turtles. But the students’ eyes are trained on their teacher, Tseng Ching-ming, describing the currents and sea conditions at nearby Banana Bay, where they’ll soon be going. “Today you have one mission: to take off your equipment and float in the water,” he says. Some of the kids grin, nervously. They don’t know it, but the students from Kenting-Eluan elementary school on Taiwan’s southernmost point, are rare among their peers and predecessors. Despite most of