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Shots taken in Beijing’s famous hutongs, the historic alleyways that wind through the center of China’s capital. The hutong area in the center of Beijing is the largest continuous stretch of historic cityscape in any major Chinese city.
She rather humbly described this combination as “mix and match”, but I am always happy to see bright colors in the see of black and gray puffer coats.
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These two, from Xinjiang, are students at the Central Academy of Drama. They also play in rock bands in old country. The ideal, these two say, is to be in movies abroad. Apparently there are about ten or so Uighurs studying at the school.
Not the sort of person one would expect to see checking sending a text message in a traditional hutong. Is this garment referred to as a dhoti?
很少在胡åŒé‡Œè§åˆ°è¿™æ ·çš„人在å‘çŸä¿¡ã€‚
One problem with the LV handbag – as ubiquitous a part of the Chinese urban landscape as Sichuan Restaurants and taxicabs – is how it overshadows the rest of any outfit. Attention is drawn immediately to the handbag rather than to anything else the person is doing fashion-wise. Of course that is the goal. The person wants to be able to announce every time they use the bag – even when it is paired with clothes of some lesser brand – that they are in the elite.
Well, we all know that yelling “I am rich” is not the behavior of people secure in their economic or social standing. There must be more understated ways of showing one’s status and more tasteful ways of sporting the LV print.
I find the notion of LV print trousers very convincing. The picture is not good, as it was already dark, but note the difference in direction of the print on the two legs – a creative touch.
What an elegant way to transport objects! I wonder which social class these guys are from. Of course there are many other – not necessarily difficult to attain – ways of projecting refinement: a vintage vehicle, an Oldsmobile, and the car seat car covers. I have been trying to find cotton fabric to make a dress shirt in this classic print.
太有å“ä½äº†ï¼ä»–们属于社会什么阶层的人？
Never before have I taken a photo on Liuyin Street (柳è«è¡—), right around the corner from my home. This, perhaps Beijing’s most attractive street in what was formerly the most noble section of the city, is usually filled with homely tourists, rickshaw drivers, and urban peasants. Fortunately these elements clear out after nightfall and during snowstorms. In times like these, there is no more romantic place for a stroll. It will be painful not to be able to live near it after the area becomes completely gentrified – sure to happen in less than a decade. I am, as of yet, not part of the gentry.
He didn’t care that China Fashion Week had ended.
The snow was falling hard, preventing much venturing out today, but I found this stylish individual right around the corner from my place.
This is the first time I have seen such snow in all the years that I have been here.
This guy wasn’t eager to pose, so this is not a good shot. He is quite exceptional though.
A young accounting student who hopes to get into a more creative line of work.
I seem to keep photographing people with these trousers.
At her No. 46 Fangjia Hutong studio, Lingxifang, Designer Xu Dong finds unconventional fabrics (like snakeskin print silk) for qipaos, but uses traditional embroidery and construction techniques. Garments are about 80% handmade by a tailor who schooled under Yang Chenggui, one of China’s most famous Qipao masters. Xu Dong, descended from the Qing imperial family like most Manchus in Beijing, grew up in a courtyard house nearby her studio, not five minutes from the Confucius temple. Now she commutes from an apartment by the Fourth Ring Road.
Zhao Qiang, an editor, at Metropolis Magazine (大都市), came by my place a few weeks ago to interview me. The resulting profile is in the current issue of this magazine for urban professional men that is part of the Modern Media Group. Ms. Zhao also worked for the ill-fated Chinese edition of Rolling Stone.
Beyond the great publicity, she also gave me four bottles of Ketel One. She doesn’t drink it but acquired several cases somehow.
A retired teacher, last here in Mao jacket, is now in fetching summer garb. He lives in a hutong off Nanluoguxiang.
Photo: Weina Zhao
On my second trip to No. 46, I noticed a spacious new coffee shop just to the left of the main gate. Cola is proprieter of just opened Charity Share (益飨), which specializes in fair trade coffee and includes a fashion boutique in its loft.
She says Charity Share is the first bar or coffee shop in China to make promoting the public good its main theme. Her coffee shop is also the first in Beijing to receive a Certification Mark from the Fairtrade Labelling Organizations International. A portion of all profits will go to charities and the high-ceiled, roomy space will host numerous NGO fundraising events, auctions, etc.
Initially, she expects foreigners will be the main clients as they are both more picky about the quality of coffee and familiar with the concept of free trade products. Amusingly, she says the hard seats are another reason why foreigners will be more attracted to Charity Share than Chinese, who prefer softer seating.
Originally from Xinjiang, Cola came to Beijing in 1999 and studied Chinese at Beijing Normal University. In 2006, she received her Master’s in marketing from the Chinese University of Hong Kong. She quit her media job in May to focus all of her energy on the new coffee shop. Her recent interest in being more civic-minded has improved her mindset a great deal. She is now more able to be contented with her situation and less aggressive. Interestingly, one cup of coffee a day is her maximum. Any more and her heart beats too fast.
These two graphic/image design students stepped directly from the 80s, but in completely different styles.
Photo: Weina Zhao
