Growing up Chinese, the paradigm of romance is often summed up in a singular moment: a husband drawing on his wife’s eyebrows. The context and setting might vary for each instance, but the quiet intimacy of the act shines through in every iteration: from modern-day drama Love’s Ambition to a friend’s pre-wedding photo shoot centring on Chinese traditions and folklore. Devotion and care are evident in each stroke, differing only in its shape, thickness as well as placement specific to its time period. For instance, the broad and short eyebrow look dubbed Moth Wing style was particularly pervasive during the Tang dynasty. Yuanshan arches, on the other hand, were the brow du jour of the Han dynasty.
“There are so many make-up techniques that were prevalent throughout history, and many of them changed and were altered across time and dynasties,” explains Lili Lai, content creator and community lead at Pamplepuss, an event collective that focuses on cultural and community activities in Toronto. “I’ve always loved blush placements and how they would sometimes be in unexpected colours like yellow, which was associated with vitality. Different dynasties had their own preferred placements and interpretations.”
It comes as no surprise, then, that there is a staggering gamut of historical Chinese make-up looks for enthusiasts to emulate, ranging from era- to minority group-specific. We sat down with three of the biggest historical Chinese make-up advocates to find out more, from what kickstarted their journey to the secrets behind their artistry.
1 / 3
Lili Lai, content creator (@softpastrybun)
What drew me into the space: I’ve been interested in historical fashion and traditional clothing for as long as I can remember. I watched TVB Chinese dramas with my father as a child to practise my Chinese, and I was especially captivated by the historical period series. The clothing, make-up and even the speaking style fascinated me and sparked my interest in cultural aesthetics. But it wasn’t until two or three years ago that I started expressing myself more creatively through fashion and beauty content on social media.
Once I began experimenting and sharing hairstyles and clothing inspired by history, it pushed me to dive deeper into the world of traditional make-up. I didn’t expect it to resonate with people the way it did, and the positive feedback gave me the confidence to explore it seriously and freely, without judgement.
A common misconception that people have of historical Chinese fashion and make-up: The belief that historical Chinese make-up is just one style. It isn’t. It changes so much across dynasties and regions, and even within the same dynasty at different points in time. And when you start learning more about it, you notice interesting parallels with other cultures too, whether it’s through trade, symbolism or the way certain motifs show up in different places. I love seeing those connections because it reminds me that cultural exchange has always existed and that beauty has never evolved in isolation.
The most fascinating part of this style of make-up: I love how expressive but also intentional make-up looks can be. One of my all-time favourites is the gothic Tang style from the late Tang dynasty. While the beginning of the era was associated with softer, rounder and romantic styles, the gothic make-up trends towards the end introduced much darker tones, especially with wine reds and black pigments for the lips.
The lip shape specifically became smaller and more concentrated, while brows featured were also heavier, sharper and straighter but from an angle. Blush receded from the earlier wide placement to give the darker features more prominence. These trends reflected the darker mood of the late Tang period, where there was political upheaval and uncertain power shifts as the dynasty declined.
Challenges I’ve faced: One of the biggest ones was figuring out what products could recreate those looks. For example, matt highlighters are common in Asia but harder to find in North America, so getting access to certain products was hard or I would figure out other ways to get that soft, brightening effect without the shimmer.
Another challenge was understanding the meaning behind everything: why certain colours were important in one dynasty, how blush placement shifted over time, or what specific symbols or markings represented.
On how to meld traditional sensibilities and modernity: There are ways you can mix traditional elements with modern make-up in a respectful way, and for me it comes down to intention. When you take the time to learn where certain looks come from, it changes how you approach it. You’re not just copying a trend; you’re acknowledging and honouring the history behind it. Also, you don’t need to recreate a full historical look to appreciate it since not everyone has the skills to match it (like me) or have the time to. Sometimes taking just one element, like a lip shape or brow style, and blending it with your everyday make-up creates something meaningful and personal. Just being open about your inspiration and giving credit goes a long way.
What I hope my followers take away from my feed: One of the main things I hope people take away from my page is the confidence to embrace their cultural heritage in whatever way feels authentic to them. That’s something I’ve always cared deeply about because how I express it may not be the same for the next person and that doesn’t diminish how connected they feel towards their culture.
2 / 3
Xiaoye Du, fashion historian and Chinese textile researcher (@xiaoyeh_du)
What drew me into the space: The pandemic gave me a lot of free time to explore my interest in fashion and beauty history. I jumped in the rabbit hole and now am completing my master’s degree in historical fashion and textile studies.
A common misconception that people have of Chinese historical fashion and make-up: The fact that there is not one single look that can be defined as historical Chinese make-up. The repertoire is extremely diverse, with variations across time and space.
The most fascinating part of this style of make-up: As a fashion historian, it is the social and cultural implications of a particular look that I find most interesting. My favourite look in history is probably the early Tang and Wu Zhou, during the reign under the only female empress in history. It largely comprises high updos, thick and extravagant brows, as well as a lot of blush and facial embellishments—so, vibrant colours not only on the clothes but also on the face. This make-up style is bold, robust and healthy, which is very much in concurrence with the zeitgeist of the era.
Hua dian—a facial embellishment of sorts—is also something else that comes to mind. Historical fashion and make-up experts here in the States would first think of 18th-century France for sticking decorative things on the face as a part of make-up, but Chinese women have been doing it for much longer. Growing up in China, hua dian gained a poetic and almost mythical status in my mind because classical Chinese literature from different time periods would refer to it as the signifier of female beauty, such as Bai Juyi’s (Tang dynasty poet) “花钿委地无人收，翠翘金雀玉搔头”, and Tang Xianzu’s (Ming dynasty playwright) “停半晌、整花钿”. But this iconic status does not take away from the fact that it is also a useful make-up trick, not just to cover up blemishes, but also to draw attention to a facial feature or area that you want to highlight, much like punctuating the whole look.
Challenges I’ve faced: I have naturally thick eyebrows, which doesn’t work with a lot of ideals of female beauty historically in China. It’s part of the reason why I found my niche in early Tang dynasty and mid-20th-century styles.
On how to meld traditional sensibilities and modernity: I am still exploring and learning in this regard. There are a lot of people who do it well online. I do feel that there has been a recent upsurge of interest in Chinese historical make-up, however, and I believe it has to do with the larger phenomenon in which Chinese traditions are becoming cool, and so the fashion and beauty industries are joining and commodifying the trend.
On the one hand, the hanfu movement and other related hobbyists have been making efforts to promote the visibility of traditional aesthetics for a decade. On the other hand, this is a natural result of China’s rise on the world stage. Chinese designers and beauty enthusiasts are thinking to challenge the dominant Western beauty discourse and take initiative in defining what is considered Chinese visually. People are subversing the traditional Western orientalist representation of China by expressing themselves in what they consider to be Chinese.
What I hope my followers take away from my feed: I hope to present a personal slice of Chinese historical fashion and beauty so as to incite my followers’ interest in broader themes on Chinese history and culture.
3 / 3
Heather Guo, founder of handmade cheongsam clothing label, Hoeng Gong Silk Co (@heather_anan)
What drew me into the space: I have been practicing kunqu opera since I was 14, and from that day, I have been immersed in a world of Chinese artistry. The make-up and costumes in traditional kunqu theatre are rooted in centuries-old conventions and are renowned for their staggering beauty. When we are on stage, the intricate hair ornaments glitter under the stage light, and we wear heavily embroidered silk costumes adorned with auspicious motifs such as clouds, phoenixes and delicate floral patterns. By putting on layers of make-up, we transform ourselves from ordinary students into figures who belong to another time.
Studying kunqu was my first encounter with Chinese historical make-up and fashion. It has inspired me to continue exploring the rich and fascinating world of traditional Chinese styles. Among the many eras that captivate me are the ’50s and ’60s. This period blends modernity with Chinese traditions, showcasing elegant silhouettes and refined tailoring.
A common misconception that people have of Chinese historical fashion and make-up: I would like to comment on the misconception that the cheongsam slit was designed for ‘sexy allure’. Instead, the cheongsam slit was created to allow movement. Without it, walking, climbing stairs or even getting into a rickshaw would be severely restricted. The resulting glimpse of a leg as one walked was an effect of this design, not its original purpose.
The most fascinating part of this style of make-up: The use of an eyeliner, surprisingly, has been a characteristic of Chinese make-up both in traditional theatres (kunqu and jingju opera) and everyday life in the 20th century. In Chinese opera make-up, eyeliner was adopted for exaggerating the eyes, conveying emotion, and enhancing visibility under stage lighting. Its dramatic lines became a visual characteristic that defines kunqu and jingju opera performers.
Yet even outside the theatrical world, eyeliner gained widespread popularity among 20th-century Chinese women living in urban cities as they adapted it into subtler, more fashionable forms influenced by the global cosmetics culture. For example, winged eyeliner was extremely popular among women in the ’50s and ’60s, and I have learnt to incorporate this classic style into my make-up routine.
Challenges I’ve faced: I did encounter some difficulties when I first attempted the brush-out technique in hair styling. Although this technique became popular throughout the last century, it is surprisingly difficult to execute well. Achieving the soft, voluminous and natural-looking waves requires precise control of pressure and movement, and it was difficult to achieve the elegant, flowing results. Although the hairstyles created through the brush-out technique appear effortless in historical photographs, it took a lot of practice and I gained a new appreciation for how much skill the women of earlier generations developed in order to create such refined styles. I eventually decided to shorten my hair, which meant I no longer needed to practise the brush-out technique. It had become time-consuming and challenging for me to execute consistently.
On how to meld traditional sensibilities and modernity: I believe it is possible to meld traditional sensibilities with modernity in make-up in a way that is both respectful and creatively meaningful. In fact, many contemporary make-up looks already do this by drawing inspiration from historical techniques, such as the use of eyeliner, while adapting them to modern textures, colours and aesthetics. The key is to approach traditional elements with intention and understanding: knowing their cultural origins, appreciating their symbolism, and using them in ways that acknowledge rather than dilute their history.
What I hope my followers take away from my feed: I hope my followers can appreciate the beauty and artistry of both kunqu opera and 20th-century Chinese fashion. By sharing images of myself performing on the kunqu stage and wearing cheongsams, I aim to present these traditions in a thoughtful and authentic way, honouring their history and cultural significance.
Ultimately, I want my feed to be a space where tradition meets contemporary engagement, showing that these cultural treasures are not only historically meaningful but also vibrant dynamic and relevant today. By blending heritage with personal expression, I hope to inspire others to explore and celebrate their own connections to culture in ways that feel both empowering and comfortable.
This story appears in Vogue Singapore’s January/February ‘Art’ issue, available online.
