Hong Kong Heritage Museum

I actually wrote this a couple of years ago for something else, but since I'm not sure if I'll be heading to the Heritage Museum any time soon, I thought I'd just recycle it. I went there for an exhibit on Haute Couture (obviously, it's no longer there).


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I made the trek out to Sha Tin in the New Territories to check out the Haute Couture from the 1940s to 1950s exhibit.

I haven't been to the Heritage Museum since it first opened almost ten years ago, and so I got a bit lost on the way. I took a wrong turn and ended up at some Christian hiking society. Check out the pictures I took.




I climbed all the way up there in a bandeau dress and four-inch heels, heifers! When I got to the top, some expat minister-type came out the door and asked me if I was looking for Jesus.

Me: Er...the only Christian I'm interested in is Dior.

Anyway, it was quite an exciting side trip because I stumbled upon one of the old Sha Tin villages and saw a bunch of delectable, shirtless village hoodlums. I would've taken a picture but I was feeling very unglamourous what with all the sweat covering me, so I decided to just ogle and take pictures of other things, like...leaves.




This is the Heritage Museum. There's some kind of water fowl that live there, they're the white specks in the picture. There's a bike path that made me nostalgic for Taiwan.




They didn't allow people to take pictures at the Haute Couture exhibit, but I was perfectly happy to photograph the stuff in the permanent exhibits. The following are from the cultural relics exhibit.

Check it out, this is a representation of a nomadic tribesman from, I guess, what is called Mongolia now. Look at his headdress! That ninja is wearing a fucking tiger! I want one.



This is why there are more than one billion Chinese people. I mean, Jesus, if our cooking tools look like this...


This is a tomb guard that has the claws of an eagle, legs of a tiger, horns of a deer, face of a dragon and wings of a bat. I took a lot of pictures of tomb guards for future reference for tattoo ideas.


Sorry for the dim picture, they didn't allow flash photography. I love those room dividers. Back when my family had money, we had these giant ones that were carved out of jade. They were so fucking heavy, my dad had to have the floors reinforced. Ah, the good old days when we were rich!


This is a close-up of a Tibetan outfit.


This is a detail of a Tibetan statue of a god either eating or sexing someone.


If I ever get married again, I'd love to have my wedding pics look like this.


I also got to check out the Cantonese opera exhibit. It's one of the permanent exhibits, and really amazing. Worth going to the museum for this alone. This is the entrance from the inside. By the way, my pictures start to get pretty shitty from here on because I'd been walking around for a couple of hours already and my feet were beginning to hurt.


The banners next to the stage.


A typical outdoor Cantonese opera stage. I felt so nostalgic.


Tableaux.


The wax figure in the back looks confused, doesn't it? Like he suddenly forgot his lines?


They had a scale model of the bamboo structure that is erected to form the theatre. Isn't it amazing how much work is put into something that is torn down in a couple of weeks? Very Buddhist, like making a mandala. Just because the results of something are only temporary, it doesn't mean that you don't put in all your effort. It's the process that's the most important thing.


And, of course, there was a real one inside the exhibition hall, too.


We got to see backstage stuff.



I couldn't resist taking a picture of this mahjong auntie because she looks like a power diva. Look at the sheer bitchiness of her face! I need to perfect that look: part smile, part sneer and the side-eye of doom. My God! And seriously, I need to have a qi pao with a heart-shaped cutout like that. GORGEOUS. This is such an inspirational photo for me, seriously.


They had an interactive computer thing where you get photographed and have Chinese opera masks overlaid on your face.

This is me as a general.


This is me as Guan Gong (of course, I had to get him,  he's my favourite god!). Not very successful since you can't see my face.


This me as Sun Wu Kong (also known as the Monkey King).


This is me as that little kid who's a god, as well. I forget his name, but he usually prances around in diapers and with little hair buns on his head.


All in all a very tiring and satisfactory day.


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If you have the time to head over to Sha Tin, I really do suggest visiting the Heritage Museum. You can check out the current exhibitions at their Web site here. To get to the museum, take the MTR to Che Kung Temple Station. It's to your left when you exit. Don't cross the street!

And while you're in Sha Tin, you might want to check out Che Kung Temple, as well, too. I guess I should write an entry about it some day. The site has been around since the Ming Dynasty, and people visit Che Kung to pray for good health and good luck. I know that it's the destination for a lot of hardcore gamblers.

Linva and Mitty Fashion Alteration

I thought about doing two separate entries for Linva and Mitty, but I don't have enough to write so I thought I'd just combine them.

First, let's talk about Linva. Linva is a tailor shop that specializes in 旗袍 or qi pao, also known as cheongsam in Cantonese. I'm just going to refer to it as qi pao because I speak Mandarin much better than Cantonese.

Linva was responsible for those gorgeous qi pao that Maggie Cheung wore in In the Mood for Love. They cut it in a very ladylike way, either full-length or ending below the knee. However, it's very expensive to get qi pao tailored there, I have to admit. I brought in my own vintage fabric from the 1960s that my mother had saved and given to me, and the tailoring alone cost just under HKD3,000. So much for my dream of having a collection of qi pao to wear every day.

Linva is at 38 Cochrane Street in Central.

As you can see, Linva also does a traditional Manchurian-style top. I really should save money to have another qi pao made. And a men's cheongsam, too. I once watched a Jay Chou video where some guy had this really gorgeous white suit with red dragons embroidered on the sleeves. I'd love to have a white men's cheongsam with red dragons and phoenixes up the arms, too.

Now, Mitty. Mitty is simply the best alteration place in Hong Kong. I buy a lot of vintage clothes, and so I'm always there for alterations. Prices are reasonable and the workmanship is excellent.

However, I do have some advice for people:

1. Mitty does not make clothes. They are not a tailor, so don't waste your time trying to convince them to make something for you. It's simply rude. I've witnessed expats doing this and getting worked up and yelling at the staff. Animals.

2. Don't try to jump the fucking queue! Again, I always see expats doing this! It takes about a week to get your stuff back, and I really hate it when expats, using the most arrogant English they can muster up, start shouting about how urgent their clothes are and how they know the owner. We all fucking know the owner, so shut the fuck up! If you want your clothes finished sooner, go somewhere else!

3. The staff at Mitty are super great and honest. If you have any body insecurities or have low self-esteem, I suggest not going. They will tell you exactly why your clothes don't fit properly, and will explain to you how they can compensate for your lack of or overabundance of fats. If your feelings are easily hurt, and if you're stubborn and dumb enough to argue about what YOU think should be done, don't bother going. The best thing to do is just tell them that you'd like your piece of clothing to fit better (looser, tighter, etc.) and let them handle it. If they tell you that they can't do anything about it, then just take the loss and move on.

Mitty is at 74 Welllington Street in Central, on the 5th floor. This is what the foyer looks like. Kind of looks like a horror movie, I know.

Now, to show the combined efforts of Linva and Mitty. I'm so sorry for the crappy photograph, and  pardon the mess on the table, especially the giant wad of tissues. I had allergies because I reorganized my clothes for winter. I'm just not meant for household drudgery. I need a wife.

Side slit.

Look at how wonderful the tailoring is. The two matched flowers on the collar (which I didn't bother doing up, sorry), gorgeous!

Yes, unfortunately, those are lucite heels. But in my defence, they are Gucci lucite heels. Or does that make it worse? Note the hot pink lining of the dress.

Now, for some important qi pao tips. 

1. Fit: I admit that I like my clothes to be on the tight side, especially around the waist. Maybe I'm just skanky but it's also because I'm not exactly thin, so I prefer not to add excess fabric anywhere that could make me look even bigger. 

However, with the qi pao, you have to remember that, unless you're having one made with a stretch fabric, which is kind of a hideously tacky idea, there is no way sifu will agree to cut it skin-tight because you won't be able to move properly. Trust me, I've asked and all I got for my presumption was a lecture on modesty.

When I got my qi pao altered at Mitty (I had it made a few years ago and lost weight since then, yay!), I tentatively suggested making everything a lot tighter, only to be tsked and asked, "Do you want to be able to sit down when you wear this dress?"

2. Frogs: Frogs are the fabric-covered clasps that will be added to your qi pao. Please, I ask you, follow sifu's advice on which frogs to use because he will know what is best for the style and colour/pattern of the dress. But as a rule of thumb, the busier the pattern on your fabric is, the simpler the frog should be. If you have a plain lace or satin qi pao, then by all means, go for a phoenix frog or something. 

3. Side slit: Mid-thigh for both full-length and below-the-knee qi pao. Higher than that, the back of the skirt will be fluttering in the wind like a banner. Lower than that, you won't be able to walk. 

4. At the fitting, wear the shoes (or similar height) and underwear (especially bra) that you will most likely wear whenever you put on your qi pao. This is really important. Stand with good posture while you're being measured!

5. Wearing a qi pao: look, you just have to accept that a qi pao is not the most comfortable of things. And please don't assume that Chinese culture is misogynistic because qi pao as they are now are actually a Westernization of the Manchurian traditional dress. 

I don't usually wear flat shoes, anyway, but I can't imagine walking in a qi pao without some kind of heel. In a properly-tailored qi pao, you have to walk like a lady, with one foot in front of the other, rather than clomping along. Forget about bending down to pick something up. Either the skirt will hobble you or the collar will choke you. If you drop anything, just glare at the nearest guy and say, "WELL????? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR???"

With that in mind, I also suggest putting your stockings (if necessary) and shoes on before you put your qi pao on. 

6. Sitting down and getting back up: My trick for sitting in a qi pao is to cross my legs before I sit down, then gracefully perching on one buttcheek. Once my buttcheek is secure, I discreetly adjust the qi pao to allow the other buttcheek to land. By the way, as you're bending to sit, don't stick your butt out because that can strain and tear the fabric. 

To get back on my feet, I usually wait until someone I know is passing by and then I demurely whisper, "Yo, grab my elbow and help me up, willya?" If no one is nearby, I kind of slide out of the seat one buttcheek at a time. Once the first buttcheek is clear, I uncross my legs and stand up. This is all done with the maximum of grace and elegance, by the way.

7. Accessories and styling: I quite like a fur shrug, as you can imagine, but a qi pao just calls for some fabulous earrings and bracelets. Necklaces are pointless, unless you wear them outside the collar, and I only suggest this for qi pao with plainer fabrics. 

For hair, I like big updos with a qi pao. If you have the right hair length, finger waves also look lovely. I'm not too fond of long hair hanging down while wearing a qi pao, although, I suppose that depends on the hairstyle. It's just that it can look disheveled very easily, and a qi pao is all about looking ladylike and elegant. 

G & An'ge

G & An'ge is a shop that specializes in Korean brands (or is G & An'ge actually a brand?). For some reason, I could really tell that the clothes are Korean. There's something about the style that makes me think of Lovely Sam-soon and Coffee Prince (RIP Lee Eun, may your heavenly body be a real heavenly body).

The animal-print display below drew me in. You can just imagine the bitchy rival to the heroine of a Korean drama wearing these outfits on her way to throw shade.

Yes to that leopard-print coat! The colour looked amazing on me, but I have way too many coats already.

Not really fond of maxi skirts, but at least this is leopard print AND lace.

The dress that I ended up trying on. It's more of a tunic -- the salesgirl was shocked when I said I wasn't planning to wear leggings underneath, I hate leggings, ugh -- but I've got shorter skirts than this so I don't really care. It's got batwing sleeves and a super-glamourous sequinned black cloth belt.

The dress had a sister, but she didn't do it for me. It's too bad because they were having a promotion: buy two and get the second one half off. Er, excuse my umbrella.

In the end, I bought the leopard-print dress -- I really have to stop buying shit -- but I thought the price was really fair considering how versatile the dress is. It was marked down from HKD700 (around USD100) to HKD475. Here are really crappy pictures of me wearing the dress. Yes, there are newspapers on the floor because I put shoes on, and shoes are verboten in my flat.

Check out the brass details along the collar. The dress is stretchy and feels like a really comfortable shirt. You can see the belt in this picture, too. (I was adjusting the camera in this picture, and it went off by accident, by the way.)

Yikes, I look fat here (should have used the slimming function on my camera!), and the dress looks really short. I swear that it's only because I was lifting my arm to show the batwing sleeve. I probably would dress up the outfit and wear different shoes, but I was tired and just wanted to show what the dress looked like on its own.

The salesgirl told me that they always have promotions and sales, by the way.

The things in the shop range from HKD300 (about USD39) to HKD800, with the coats costing a bit more. These belts were around HKD350.

These are really Korean, don't you think so? I really approve of the shrugs in the shop, as I'm a devotee of mahjong auntie glamour, which is shrug-dependent.

Seriously, I think Geum Jan Di wore this exact dress in Boys Before Flowers.

G & An'ge is in Island Place. Exit B at the North Point MTR Station.

新光

As a kid growing up in the 1980s (yes, I'm that old), one of my most deeply-influential style icons were mahjong aunties. You know who I'm talking about: the ladies -- and they are ladies, dammit -- with the big, teased hair, jade and diamond jewellery, meticulous eyebrows, smelling of Poison, wearing glamourous, Dynasty-worthy sequinned, beaded, embroidered or lace (or all of the above) dresses and high heels for all occasions and at any time of the day. I bet some of the mahjong aunties I know probably sleep only in silk nightgowns trimmed with marabou feathers plucked only from virgin storks, and edged in beads so fragile, they look like the (non-Neil Gaiman) Sandman's tears.

As a young pup, I often strayed from the mahjong auntie style path, and I still don't always follow it. For example, the last time I wore stockings, they were ripped fishnet ones to a Japanese heavy metal show in Kwun Tong.

However, on a daily basis, I do try to incorporate at least one element of mahjong auntie style, whether it's my beloved leopard print, big belts or terribly high heels. And as I get older, I'm more able to dress according to the style commandments laid down by mahjong aunties.

By the way, I'm really serious about how much I love these women, and if anyone makes fun of them, I will cut you with a piece of steel broken from from a mahjong auntie's glare.

Anyway, I haven't had a chance to watch Cantonese opera at 新光 yet, but I've passed by many times just to look at the posters and feel inspired by the place. It is a big mahjong auntie hotspot.

The lobby.

I love how opera fans are so appreciative of the stars.

After a show. It ended at around nine-thirty in the evening, I think, so that the oldies can go home and sleep early. Tsk on that dude smoking in the lobby, although I approve of his shorts (pattern and length are perfect).

Here's a close-up of some of the posters.

See what I mean about mahjong auntie glamour??? When I started dyeing my hair rainbow colours as a teen, and my mom got pissed at me, I was defended by mahjong aunties, who themselves had streaks of different colours in their hair. Honestly, mahjong aunties are some of the most open-minded and fashion-forward people.

I so want a black lace, beaded qipao and a white mink shrug!

Hm...I'm not too fond of the qipao style. It's a bit too Manchurian-traditional for me with the rounded shoulders, but I love her hair accessory.

The jewellery! The eyebrows! I love a lady who can rock a big-ass brooch. She is more pimp than a rapper; mahjong aunties never wear cubic zirconias, only diamonds and precious metals touch their skin. As a goldsmith, I have to really be thankful for these ladies because I love making brooches.

Perfect. I would wear a white mink or silver fox shrug, but I can see why she made that choice.

I got scolded by an uncle for taking pictures of fake flowers.

Opera-lover uncle: Tsk, girl! Can't you tell they're fake? Why are you taking pictures of plastic?

I didn't dare tell him that I actually didn't realize they were fake until he pointed it out. The lighting was dim! And there were so many real flowers next to this bouquet that I couldn't smell the difference.

Also fake.

The uncle then pointed me towards the real flower displays.

新光 is in North Point on King's Road. Get out at Exit B from the North Point MTR Station, and you'll see it across the street. You can also take a streetcar or bus it there (bus routes 10, 18, 23, 97, and 102 and more).