Since the traditional Beijing version first graced magazine covers in the early 1920s, this particular style, known for its demure elegance, has gained worldwide fame over the decades. In 2007, it was added to the list of Beijing municipal-level intangible cultural heritage; Li is a fourth-generation inheritor.
Li doesn't watch movies too often, but she has frequently indulged in Wong Kar-wai's 2000 masterpiece In the Mood for Love. She appreciates the female gracefulness this movie presents through its heavy qipao presence. "This dress is one of China's most traditional apparels; an integral part of the nation's culture. Despite the inrush of global clothing brands and the younger taste for new and modern styles, traditional clothing should never be overlooked. They represent the indelible aspects of Chinese culture and should not be confined to movies or museums," explained Li.
Apprentice to master
In 1978, 21-year-old Li was allocated to the then Beijing People's Clothing Factory (today's Hong Du Group) as an needlework apprentice and has since stayed in the factory to this day. Her solid expertise in the basics of clothes-making and eye for detail made her stand out during one routine company technique assessment and she was soon promoted. She left the production workshop in 1992 to become an apprentice of qipao master Yang Huaizhi, formally becoming an artist creating the customary Beijing garb.
The dress looks very simple in terms of its cut, but the technique behind is by no means easily acquired. Take the knotted buttons, for example. There are more than 100 types of buttons, all handmade.
According to Li, a custom-made qipao is specifically made for one individual with 36 points measured from top to bottom, including the collarbones and elbows. After measuring and cutting, the owner has to try on the piece two or three times to see whether it is too loose or too tight, too long or too short. A handmade qipao requires at least half a month to craft.
As a qipao requires more time and energy than your off-the-rack dress, the garment once ran out of public favor—for quite some time, in fact. However, thanks to rising incomes and a growing interest in traditional craftsmanship over the past 15 years, Li's Beijing-style qipao once again became all the rage, with orders rolling in. In 2009, she won the title of master of Chinese traditional art skills awarded by the Beijing municipal authorities. She has also created qipaos for wives of dignitaries, both local and international, as well as celebrities. Looking back on the past four decades, Li added, "It's my passion for the qipao that has sustained me all along. I truly enjoy the process of meticulously designing and cutting, and, of course, my customers liking their finished products."
Various knotted buttons (YIN KANG)
Innovating inheritance
Although she is continuing a traditional technique, Li is by no means conservative in her quest for innovation and usage of new textiles and techniques. She is also no longer sticking to the linear cutting method, typical of the traditional dress pattern, but absorbs new methods prevailing in the current fashion field. Cotton-printed material produces a straightforward qipao that can be worn in daily life; those made from silk and brocade can be used on more formal occasions. A qipao crafted with dark-colored cashmere or velvet not only highlights a woman's figure and elegance, but also helps keep her warm.
Li also took her pioneering knack to the knotted buttons by introducing flowers into their elaborate styles as well as glimpses of traditional Chinese painting. In Li's words, "Nowadays, we're starting to see a growing number of young customers. Some of them choose to wear a qipao for important occasions like their wedding ceremony, so we need to learn more about the younger ideas and demands by better communicating with them."
Crafting the next generation
Li's hope is not just to welcome more young clients, but to see more youngsters inheriting the qipao-manufacturing know-how.
"Recent years have seen many masters retiring from the craft. As this team of traditional qipao makers shrinks, we, as a country, run the risk of losing the technique for good. Some tailors felt the work was tedious and underpaid and turned to other brands to do design or marketing; others quit the clothing sector altogether," sighed Li. The good news is that in recent years, the country has done a lot to promote national craftsmanship, which has brought various traditional techniques back into the limelight, she said.
A growing number of fresh faces today are joining the lineup to resuscitate these practices. "It's great to see them do their bit for Chinese cultural heritage," she explained.
Li has been taking on apprentices since 2008. She has worked out training schedules based on their individual capabilities and actual market demand. "I have been working on qipaos for almost my entire career, and it is my mission to pass this technique on to the next generation," concluded Li on a firm note.
