A History of
Fashion Fetishes & Beauty Standards for Chinese Women A Chronological Investigation of Female Body Ideals Reveals: Remnants of the Culture’s Patriarchal Legacy Remain Anne Chen Material Culture in Modern China Washington University in St. Louis Final Project - Essay December 2010
1 Chen It is undeniable that throughout history, women in China have progressively gained more independence, power, and rights. Back in the patriarchal society of imperial China, women had no voice – in neither the public realm of communities, such as in national polices and political affairs, nor in the private realm of the home, such as in marriage decisions. During the Republic years, spanning from 1911 to 1949, although urban women did enjoy new opportunities to pursue a formal education and study alongside their male counterparts, females were still generally restricted to the inner quarters of the home, where they were expected to care for the family and contribute to domestic production. When Mao Zedong came to power in 1949, he brought with him his vision of eliminating the gender line and creating a homogeneous society, in which women could regularly attend schools and even seek professions. After Mao’s death in 1976, traditional gender roles were reestablished, although the increasing openness to the West and its less conservative culture did introduce new freedoms to the Chinese woman, as they began to experiment with make-up, modern fashions, and speaking up such that their long-muted voices were heard. In this exhibition paper, I question if the transitions in China, whether they be ideological, cultural, political, or social, actually removed the nation’s gender hierarchy – or did, despite multiple gender equality movements, the hierarchy remain, but simply mutate throughout the decades such that it continued to exist in simply more subtle and less discernible ways. I find evidence of the continued prevalence of the Chinese gender echelon through the fashion fetishes and body ideals impressed upon women throughout Chinese history, beginning with the brutal foot binding practice during China’s imperial years, and ending with today’s numerous cosmetic surgery procedures that multitudinous Asian Americans undergo. I also affirm the persistence of the Chinese gender hierarchy by investigating the constant correlation between beauty and pain –
2 Chen how, during the whole of Chinese history, the processes that women endure to achieve a certain time period’s dictated epitome of physical perfection often involve bodily mutilation and extreme corporeal tribulation. By analyzing specific “material objects” that have or are being utilized to transform the female physique such that it satisfies certain social ideals, and then placing these items within their appropriate historical context, I can thus conclude by taking a step back, and, by providing a broader examination of what has consistently defined “the perfect Chinese woman”, and, concurrently, what beauty standards have changed or been newly introduced, determine the effects of an increasingly materialistic, superficial culture on Chinese women. I begin with the foot binding practice, in which a young girl, usually about six years old, has her four smaller toes bent back and broken, customarily by her mother, such that they are pulled to rest against the sole of the foot. A narrow strip of cloth, usually about two inches wide, is then wrapped tightly around the foot, such that the foot becomes shorter and narrower, until it becomes a delicate, curved arc. Approximately two years later, the bound foot has reached the perfect size, of about three to four inches long, and can squeeze into the tiny, elegant lotus shoe.
Lotus Shoes
The practice was believed to have originated from the imperial courts of the Tang Dynasty (618-907), in which dancers loosely bound their feet to give aesthetic appeal to their performances. As other women began to take notice of the fashion, they too began to bind their
3 Chen feet, since they believed it was an effective way to empower themselves and to achieve status in the social eye. Subsequently, by the Song Dynasty (960-1279), the foot binding practice had become the norm among elite women, and by the 16th and 17th centuries, had extended to include the peasant folk. So why the growing propagation of such a brutal, painful process? Other than the common belief that small feet were symbols of wealth, prestige, and aristocracy, the bound foot concurred with the reigning gender nei-wei hierarchy and the prevailing fashion fetishism of the imperial times. Throughout her book “Cinderella’s Sisters”, Dorothy Ko discusses the nei-wei, or inner-outer, system of Chinese society that arose from Confucius’s concepts of the five fundamental reciprocal relationships and the three submissions the traditional Chinese woman was subject to throughout her life. The superior-inferior human relationship between husband and wife is maintained by three compliances that females much acquiesce to – before marriage, she must be obedient to her father; upon betrothal, she must yield to her husband’s commands; and whence her spouse dies, she must adhere to the needs of her son. The bound foot, then, symbolizes her limited freedom and lack of individual voice – moreover, it represents an attractive, obedient daughter, who is willing to undergo excruciating physical agony, and dedicate herself to a life-long process of wrapping and rewrapping her feet to please her mate. Women with big feet were viewed as shameful, wild, and “loose” – they had no discipline, no humility, and thus were not worthy of securing a good marriage. They would therefore have little opportunity to advance their family’s or their own economic and social livelihood. From the standpoint of the family as a corporate, productive unit, the bound foot represents the delineation of responsibilities, with women remaining in the home, and men venturing into the public sphere of society. Wives were qualified for only participating in
4 Chen domestic chores, such as caring for children, embroidering, spinning, and cooking – fundamentally, tasks that required only the utilization of the hands. Following that they were not needed much in the fields, nor were they allowed to seek professions, there was the practicality of the bound foot ideology – women had no use for their feet, and thus the bound foot was not detrimental to the family productive unit. This sound logic is exemplified in many imperial paintings of the Chinese marketplace, in which no female figures are shown, but instead contain only images of men socializing and interacting in business transactions.
Song Dynasty (960 AD – 1279 AD)
Dorothy Ko also discusses the idea of the bound foot being an “erotic invention”, or a private female body part that is reserved only for the eyes of one’s husband. Indeed, many classical Chinese texts explain that the “bound foot will arouse” – men found the small steps and swaying gait of a woman with bound feet appealing, and enjoyed fondling the tiny bound foot. Imperial artwork often depicts a man caressing a woman’s bound feet – these “lotus lovers” rejoiced at the sight of the mysterious bound appendage, and often engaged in other customs that glorified the foot binding practice, such as drinking wine from the tiny shoes themselves. It is undeniable, then, that the male-dominated society of imperial China and the hierarchical ideologies, whether they be economical or aesthetic, that stemmed from it facilitated the
5 Chen proliferation of the beloved lotus foot, and, consequently, the deformation of the female physique to satisfy the beauty standards of the times.
From R.H. Van Gulik’s "Erotic Colour Prints of the Ming Period" (1951).
By the 1870s, the Chinese people had begun to question their position in the global arena – how were they “behind”, relative to the rest of the world? After first critiquing their technologies and then their institutions, the Chinese population finally turned to analyze their cultural foundations – and didn’t like what they saw. The May 4th movement of 1919 epitomizes this radical reassessment of the entire Chinese civilization itself – and all practices, ideologies, and customs that were associated with the sacred past. The feudal traditions and Confucian ideals that had once held prominence in imperial China now seemed antiquated and out-of-touch with the beliefs of the modern, less conservative West – and thus, the Chinese nation sought to rid themselves of any primitiveness such that they could propel forth into a more cosmopolitan, open mentality. This meant reassessing their old patrilineal system and the prevailing notions of female beauty standards, as well as the processes that women had to undergo in order to fulfill them. One could argue that the burst of anti-foot binding movements in the 19th and 20th centuries discussed by Ko encapsulates the emerging interest on eliminating the gender hierarchy, and providing women with more opportunities to enter the public sphere of society. Although it is undeniable that the changing times and growing Western influence on the Chinese
6 Chen nation were allowing Chinese women to escape the shackles of the nei-wei and Confucian ideologies, one cannot assume that the gender hierarchy was completely eradicated – in fact, even after the foot binding practice ceased, there still remained fashion and beauty practices that maintained traditional Chinese ideals on the female physical appearance. Moreover, with the installation of Western beauty demands and new technological innovations, one can see that modernity and consumerism have actually channeled in a fresh wave of fashion crazes, rather than siphon old ones out. Traditional beauty paragons, such as height and paleness, have persisted, but newer ones, such as big eyes and well-defined noses, have been introduced. Thus, in the next section of this paper, I offer critiques on material items that have been promulgated throughout Chinese society in the years following the tianzu and fangzu movements – such as runway couture dresses, magazine editorials, skin-lightening products, make-up, and cosmetic surgery equipment – to provide evidence of some traditional Chinese beauty standards transcending time, and of new ones being exalted. But whether old or new, female beauty ideals can be seen as agents of prevalent social and cultural ideologies – including male preference and female objectification. These analyses on specific objects can then be connected, as they all reinforce my attestation on the continued existence of the feudal Chinese gender hierarchy, which insists that a woman’s ultimate goal is beauty – or, more particularly, whatever the historical environment of the time determines is truly “beautiful”, no matter the physical costs on a woman’s body, nor the emotional ones on her spirit. Susan Brownell’s article “The Body and the Beautiful in Chinese Nationalism: Sportswomen and Fashion Models in the Reform Era” captures the prevalent belief that height epitomizes prestige and status to the Chinese people. Accordingly, when it comes to the Chinese fashion model’s body, her physique is “divided up into parts and quantified with numbers that
7 Chen were supposed to approach international standards” (Brownell 47). Ages of models ran between 16 and 23 years; the largest bust size was 90 cm; the smallest waist was approximately 59 cm; the largest hips were about 92 cm; and heights fell between 1.75 m and 1.84 m. As “youth and height were the most desperately sought traits in the [Supermodel] Contest” (48), many models who were too young to have fully developed bodies underwent breast augmentation surgery, or sought to have their legs lengthened. According to The Independent reporter Clifford Coonan, leg extension surgery involves a doctor breaking a patient’s legs and inserting metal pins into the bones, just below the knees. “The pins are then attached to a metal frame and every day for months the patient tightens the knobs a small amount despite excruciating pain. By constantly forcing the ends of the broken bones apart before they can heal, more new bone comes in to fill in the gaps” (Coonan, par. 2). When Lisa Ling travelled to China to explore the nation’s booming beauty industry, she found similar disquieting evidence of the extremes Chinese females are willing to endure such that they satisfy cultural beauty ideals. “In this part of the world, height is a sign of status, and oftentimes, it’s a prerequisite for success. Minimum height requirements are not unusual for many jobs, for admission to some colleges, even to land a date” (Ling, par. 16). Interestingly, then, enduring dramatic procedures to attain prevailing physical paragons were not just about achieving aesthetic appeal, but was also for securing professions, receiving proper education, and acquiring a mate. For the runway model, it concerned obtaining a position on the runway – whether they were catering to the “traditional oriental beauty” or the “sophisticated, cosmopolitan citizen of the modern world” visage (Brownell 49), they were required to be at least 1.75 meters tall – and thin enough – to wear the couture pieces that designer created for the catwalk. In that sense, then, Chinese models were more mannequin than
8 Chen human being – their bodies were subservient to the market, and the fashion trends of the times (Brownell 47).
Monique Lhuillier Fall 2010
A model walks during Cherry Cup the 15th New Fashion Designers Award at China Fashion Week on March 30, 2010 in Beijing, China.
Models walk the EACHWAY runway (S/S 2011) fashion show during China Fashion Week on October 26, 2010 in Beijing China.
As Brownell states, one of the most hotly debated questions during the first Chinese Supermodel Contest in 1991 was “What kinds of beautiful women is most representative of China and therefore most suitable to promote Chinese culture on the world stage?” (49). There seemed to be two miens that a Chinese fashion model could cater to – the “traditional oriental beauty”, with long, dark hair, a slow gait, and shy, downcast eyes, or the “modern, Western model”, with a “bounce in her stride”, a strong gaze, and an aggressive sexuality (Brownell 49). For the latter, cosmetic surgery – which I will discuss later – was often sought out such that the model could satisfy Western facial requirements, such as large eyes, a prominent nose bridge, and a refined nasal tip. For both types of models, however, there seemed to be a perpetuation of the customary Chinese pale ideal – that is, to be beautiful, a woman must have white skin. Images of pale women can be found all throughout Chinese history, whether they be paintings
9 Chen from the Tang or Song Dynasty, or photographs of current Chinese models and celebrities – their ghostly pallor contrasts sharply against the usual tan, orange shades of Western movie stars and performers.
From the Four Chinese Tang Dynasty Women Painting Scroll Set – empress We Ze Tian (624-705).
Portrait of the Qing Dynasty Cixi, Imperial Dowager Empress of China in the 1900s.
Zhou Xun on the cover of Elle China, January 2010.
The continued Asian obsession with pale skin has had devastating consequences. I find evidence in four quite recent online news articles that bring to light the dangerous extremes that Chinese women go to such that they achieve an ancient, standardized beauty ideal: a white complexion. In her article “SKIN DEEP: Dying to be White” from CNN.com, Marianne Bray opens with the eye-catching line: “Flawlessly milky skin is to die for” (Bray, par. 1). Indeed, the simple old remedies utilized in the past that were believed to whiten a woman’s skin, such as grinding seashell pearls into a powder and swallowing it, or using chalk-white make-up, have been replaced with more drastic, even life-threatening measures, such as toxic skin-lightening creams and skin-bleaching lotions. But before we can delve deeper into the risks of using such beauty products, we must first analyze why an ivory skin tone is so highly venerated in the Chinese society.
10 Chen “A white complexion was seen as noble and aristocratic, especially in Southeast Asia, where the sun was always out. Only those rich enough could afford to stay indoors, while peasants baked in the rice fields” (Bray, par. 10). The idea of “one white covers up three ugliness” continues today – in fact, a survey taken by Hong Kong men in 2002 found that twothirds of the subjects admitted to preferring fairer skin on women. It is no surprise then that over the years the skin whitening business has blossomed into a billion dollar industry, with cosmetic giants all over the world pouncing on the lucrative opportunity of exploiting this Asian beauty obsession. But not only is having white skin vital to pleasing the male eye – according to an article from The Asian Pacific Post, dated May 11th, 2006, a woman’s complexion also dictates what career opportunities are available to her. Panya Boonchun, for instance, shares her unfortunate story of being fired from her singing gig at a local restaurant in Thailand, after the skin-lightening cream she had been using disfigured her face and neck into “an unsightly patchwork of albino pink and dark brown, a condition that doctors say might not be irreversible” (The Asian Pacific Post, par. 3). Initially, after a few days of using the illegal product she had purchased from a local grocery store, her skin had substantially lightened, and she was delighted with the results – her customers took notice too, and gave her considerably more tips. After a few more months, however, her skin began to get itchy, and eventually transformed into an unsightly canvas of blotched shades. As a woman’s pallor is an obvious constituent of various life-long securities, such as wealth, status, love, and employment, it is little wonder then that the Chinese female populace is so obsessed with procuring an ivory skin-tone – to the lamentable extent that they disregard the harmful consequences that can result from modern skin-whitening practices. “In 2002, newspapers reported that women in Hong Kong were hospitalized for mercury poisoning caused
11 Chen by three brands of whitening cream”, reads a July 26th, 2005 article from The Los Angeles Times. “A growing number of poor Asian women are using illegal products containing toxic chemicals that have left some of them disfigured. Even some government-sanctioned skin-whitening products contain high levels of toxic mercury”, says a March 30th, 2009 Public Radio International article. “While mercury was considered a strong and effective whitening agent ten to twenty years ago, in high doses it is lethal – it can lead to convulsions, coma, and death”, writes Marianne Bray. But skin-lightening product manufacturers are quick to defend their merchandise, claiming that their “secret formulas” and “100 percent natural ingredients” do not contain any mercury, and are simply “original Asian beauty secrets” (Bray, par. 26). However, with the proliferation of illegal, mercury-laden skin-lightening products and an entire black market dedicated to supplying females with dangerous lotions and bleaches, it seems that cosmetic giants might as well advertise their products to contain plenty of poisonous mercury – their female consumers just don’t seem to care, as long as they get the results they want, and as quickly as possible. Verily, the material beauty products may have changed over time – from crushed pearl pellets and geisha powders, to cheap pills, bleaches, and serums, accessible to all social classes – but the beauty goal of porcelain skin has permeated generation gaps and has continued to hold much power when it comes to the exemplary female appearance.
Nur76 Skin Lightening Serum & Cream.
Shiseido White Lucent Brighten Up Eye Kit.
12 Chen Returning back to Susan Brownell’s description of the “sophisticated, cosmopolitan [Chinese] citizen of the modern world”, I expound upon the issue of the growing number of Asian Americans undergoing cosmetic surgery to alter their natural Asian features in order to realize prevailing racial and gender ideologies. The material objects associated with plastic surgery procedures and the female rituals of beautifying themselves include surgical equipment found in the doctor’s medical rooms, and the make-up products found in the woman’s boudoir and bathrooms. All are instruments for reconstructing and transforming the Chinese female’s birth-given features – and thus illuminate the fact that their natural appearance is not enough to satisfy modern beauty criterions.
Make-up and cosmetic products.
Double eyelid surgery (PHOTO CREDIT: MAGNUS LAUPA/WPN).
Eugenia’s Kaw’s article, “Medicalization of Racial Features: Asian American Women and Cosmetic Surgery”, provides valuable insight into the recent phenomenon of countless Asian American women undergoing plastic surgery – what exactly are these women so desperate to change, and why? What are they hoping to see after the bandages are removed? And what are the powerful, reinforcing social and scientific factors that have engendered the cosmetic surgery craze?
13 Chen To begin, Kaw gives a brief history of the practice of decorating, manipulating, and mutilating the human body across cultures, whether they be for “religious reasons, for social prestige, or for beauty” (Kaw 74). Since the 1900s, thanks to not only an increasingly consumeroriented, superficial society, but also multiple technological innovations in the medical industry, permanent alteration of the human physique for aesthetic purposes has grown perceptibly more common. To better understand this phenomenon, Kaw draws data from structured interviews with both plastic surgeons and patients in the San Francisco Bay Area, and also peruses medical literature and newspaper articles to find more statistics and facts. Her findings were concerning: since 1990, most plastic surgery patients are racial or ethnic minorities – including Asian Americans – with most of the patients within each racial group being women. As Kaw quotes Turner (1987:85), this is “an indication that women are still expected to identify with their bodies in U.S. society today, just as they have across cultures throughout much of human history” (Kaw 75). The top three cosmetic surgery procedures sought by Asian American women are eyelid reconstruction, nose bridge heightening, and nose tip refinement. To answer the question of why these operations are the most popular, Kaw focuses on the cultural – which includes racial and gender stereotypes – and the institutional – which includes the medical system and physician vernacular – forces. “The medical system bolsters and benefits from the larger consumeroriented society not only by maintaining the idea that beauty should be every woman’s goal, but also by promoting a beauty standard that requires that certain racial features of Asian American women be modified” (Kaw 75). The racial ideology that Asian American women are subject to associates their natural features – which include small, slit-like eyes, a flat nose, yellow skin, high cheek bones, and a broad, flat face – with dullness, passivity, and sleepiness. This idea of
14 Chen the “stoic Asian” who lacks wit, creativity, and sociability foments women to seek cosmetic procedures that will create the illusion of facial features that they do not naturally have. Asian American women who have not had plastic surgery instead spend hours regularly applying layers of make-up to give the same semblance of not having the Asian slanted eyes, but a bigger eyelid crease. They conveyed to Kaw that they hoped that the results of plastic surgery would “win them better acceptance by society” (Kaw 80), which includes obtaining a good date, securing a decent spouse, and holding a better profession. In a TIME Magazine article, eighteen-year-old Saeko Kimura tells of the delightful attention and hostess position she got after applying a strip of glue to her eyelids to make them appear larger and wider. “Men noticed me. I became outgoing. Suddenly, I had a life” (Cullen, par. 1). Thus, the choice to undergo some nip and tuck is not limited to simply aesthetic purposes – it provides the Asian American woman with social, self-identity and the means of procuring economic and romantic stability. The reigning gender ideology – “beauty should be the woman’s ultimate goal” – that facilitates the abundance of Asian American females going under the knife shows the remnants of the gender hierarchy of imperial China. Although female plastic surgery patients claim that they do not consider undergoing radical procedures to be bodily mutilation, but instead an exercising of individual freedom and choice, most admit that their decision to have an operation done is based on an awareness that they’re required to look their best – which, whether they acknowledge it or not, nowadays translates into less stereotypically Asian. I offer the cultural critique that this mentality is strong evidence of the persistence of the feminine-masculine delineation of rites and bodily practices – that Asian women, whether they reside in the United States or China, are still subject to the demands of a male-favoring society. Thus, despite the female claim of now “molding their own standards of beauty” (Kaw 77), it is undeniable that
15 Chen these beauty ideals are still heavily influenced by long-sedimented, patriarchal traditions – essentially, ones that objectify women such that they are simplified only to their physical forms and aesthetic appeal, rather than their intellect and personality. The medical community further promotes the plastic surgery obsession within the Asian American community. “The Western medical system is a most effective promoter of the racial stereotypes that influence Asian American women, since medical knowledge is legitimized by scientific rationality and technical efficiency, both of which hold prestige in the West and increasingly all over the world” (Kaw 81). Fundamentally, scientific knowledge gives Westerners the social power to define reality, such that Asian American women find it difficult to denounce cosmetic surgery when it is legitimized by science. Doctors and medical journals alike often utilize vernacular that places natural Asian features in an unfavorable light, to the extent that they are seen as medical abnormalities, and thus should be corrected. Such discourse in the consultation room leaves an Asian American woman considering plastic surgery to with an affirmation that the altering her body is sound and rational – she is, more or less, fixing an inadequacy, or removing an excess. Thus, from the incontrovertible dialogue of medical institutions, to the requisites of a consumer-oriented society, the need for perfection and physical attractiveness to validate self-worth and to simply lead a fulfilling life has been drilled into the Asian female discipline from generation and generation – the pain, sacrifices, and costs are undermined by the delusion to achieve the ultimate beautiful form designed by social and cultural preferences, whether they come from modern gauges or stem from traditional beauty ideals. The foot binding days of China are long gone – a black mark in China’s history books that provide a reminder to the present Chinese population of their feudal, backward past. But the
16 Chen ideologies behind the arduous process – specifically, the gender hierarchy that proclaims beauty to be every woman’s ultimate aspiration – have thwarted time and seeped into the mentality every Asian generation. From the leg lengthening surgery sought by Chinese female athletes and fashion models alike, to the skin-lightening products and bleaches purchased by thousands of Chinese women, to the cosmetic surgery procedures undergone by countless Asian Americans today, it seems that the Chinese female population has continued to willingly endure pain, blood, sweat, and tears to achieve whatever beauty ideal that their society dictates. Some traditional female beauty standards – such as paleness and height – have endured; new ones – such as wider eyes and a more “cosmopolitan, sophisticated” look – have appeared, as a result of an increased appreciation of appealing to the Western eye, and access to technological innovation. However, the material objects that Asian women use and the processes that they tolerate invariably illuminate the persistence of the gender echelon that affects both their public and private lives. Since the imperial years of the Chinese nation, physical beauty has been a powerful determinant of a woman’s economic security, romantic encounters, and self-valuation – this concept has not changed over the past centuries, but has simply metamorphosed and found new methods to channel itself. In fact, modernity and the technological advancements and materialistic mindset that come with it have only facilitated easier means of conduit for superficiality and the limiting the female to her corporeal body. The male populace, who can quite freely step from the inner, private realm of the home into the outer, public sphere of society, has always been believed to have more to offer to the Chinese society than just their physical attributes – women, on the other hand, have perpetually been confined by a social formula that equates their social worth with their appearance, and how well they satisfy current fashion and beauty standards. The extensive influence of this male-female delineation of proper place has driven Chinese women to tolerate
17 Chen the most intense and painful measures, whether it be breaking their toes or spending weeks with an icepack over their faces as they recover from agonizing plastic surgery procedures. According to a China Daily article dated November 27th, 2010, twenty-four-year-old Wang Bei, a former contestant on Super Girl, passed away during “facial bone-grinding surgery”, as her jaw suddenly began to bleed profusely during the procedure, obstructing her windpipe and causing her to suffocate (China Daily, par. 2 and 6). So how far are Asian women willing to go such that they can become ultimate beauties? It appears that whether the cost be pain or even death, nothing will prevent them from striving for physical, aesthetic perfection – the assumed gateway to social acceptance and prestige. I hope that the objects and processes I’ve mentioned in this paper and the critiques of them I provide after open the eyes of today’s global community to the harsh reality of our beauty-obsessed, materialistic society, and the dangerous extremes that women undergo in order to fulfill its carnal demands.
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