Culture Editor Sabrina Hau investigates the rise of ‘Chinamaxxing’ on social media and questions what happens when a culture becomes the internet’s latest aesthetic.
My For You Page has never been littered with people saying they were in a very “Chinese time of their lives”. Ironic, yes—but soon, people started telling me how ‘Chinese’ they were. Sometimes, I don’t even consider myself the most Chinese; I have been called whitewashed, having accented Cantonese, and many other things. Yet, people can’t wait to try to relate to me, or at the very least, attempt to.
Drinking hot water, boiling apple tea, wearing slippers indoors—the BBC acknowledged this trend as ‘Chinamaxxing’, where people try to embody the Chinese ‘spirit’ as a lifestyle. In turn, this trend sparked concern among the Chinese community over the sincerity of ‘appreciating’ Chinese culture.
Some have expressed their support, joining in on the trend by travelling to their hometowns. Meanwhile, many are speaking up about the Sinophobia they faced during their school years, dividing the narrative between those defending the increased soft power and those who see it as an attempt at commodifying yet another culture.
Thus, to what extent is culture considered appreciated, rather than appropriated?
Very ‘Chinese-Core’, or a Revised Orientalism?
This is not the first time Chinese practices or motifs have been duplicated. Popularised in the 18th–19th centuries, the European artistic movement ‘chinoiserie’ (adopted from the French word ‘chinois’, meaning Chinese) assumes primarily Chinese motifs as exotic and decorative images with little regard to their symbolism.
Driven by maritime trade and Enlightenment-era fascination with East Asia, crafts and patterns were fashioned into fabric, wallpaper, and furniture. While it is debated whether Chinese craftsmen were rightfully credited for their inspirations, the practice is certainly not new.
Although modern industries acknowledge the prejudiced views against such Asian cultures during this period, it has arguably continued in modern fashion practices. John Galliano received the most attention for his 2003 spring collection titled ‘China Meets Japan‘, featuring modified Qipao (旗袍) silhouettes, decorated with heavy reds and gold dragons, which mimicked Long-paos (龍袍) – the official royal garment worn by the Emperor.
While speaking to Andrew Bolton, curator for the Costume Institute at The Met, Galliano said, “Before I visited China, it was the fantasy that drew me to it, the sense of danger and mystery conveyed through Hollywood.”
In the face of commodification, Chinese cultures became entertainment. Without proper research, one can unintentionally skew the cultural value of certain practices.
I Want a Qipao Too!
Fast-fashion brands have also begun selling clothing labelled with ‘Jacquard Dress’ or ‘Mandarin Top,’ despite their obvious replication of Qipaos (旗袍).
In fact, the ‘mandarin collar’ that is used to generalize any ‘Chinese’-styled collar was made popular during the Ming Dynasty Manchu (滿族) tribe clothing, and has differentiations between full clasps (元寶領) and keyhole collars (水滴領). The simplification of these Chinese elements without recognition eerily echoes the reduction of tradition to purely aesthetic qualities.
In contrast, young audiences in China have gravitated towards the ‘new Chinese style’ (新中式), which aims to “contemporize traditional design” and preserve “national and cultural identity”.
For instance, the Tang-style jacket by Adidas sold exclusively in China during the Lunar New Year drew from the Tangzhuang (唐裝), which incorporates both Manchu (滿族) riding jacket and Han (漢) influences. Although produced by the German sports giant, the jacket was designed by the brand’s Shanghai-based team to create clothing that integrated traditional elements rather than dramatising them.
The jacket’s global reach demonstrated that Chinese people can have control over how their culture is represented. Between Western-created perceptions and Chinese-made reinterpretations, the Tang jacket shows how traditions cannot be replicated without proper intent.
Perhaps the ‘Chinese-core’ of it all can finally be reclaimed genuinely and accurately without a fantastical lens.
I Am Chinese. So What?
Arguably, the use of Chinese aesthetics has always been present. However, the difference comes from increased awareness against blatant fantasy and appropriation. Rather than simply allowing the trend to be used, Chinese people can now participate, adapt, and promote their side of the story so that their experiences are actually heard.
Sometimes it’s less about the clothes; rather the overgeneralisation of ‘Chinese style’ into a singular aesthetic whilst ignoring the rich ethnic diversity within China. If cultures are to be commodified, doing so accurately, respectfully, and through informed research remains the most important part of that journey.
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