Spotlight — Zing Chen, the Classics, and Sartorialism in China
Writing from an Australian perspective, Chinese ‘style’ abroad is often bifurcated into ‘high end streetwear’/hypebeast apparel, or a complete dearth of ‘style’. The sartorial scene, however, in the Greater China context, is something that has yet to make its way into mainstream discourse (or any discourse, for that matter, in Australia). In this next instalment of Spotlight, I’ll be looking into this with a particular focus on Zing Chen. The scope of this piece doesn’t extend as far to extensively outlining fashion movements in a post-Mao era, or portend to be a consulting firm-esque analysis of consumer proclivities. Further, what I say here can only go so far — visit Zing yourself or give a hold of his garments in your own hands to get a better understanding of what he’s about. This’ll be a long, but hopefully worthwhile read.
Who is Zing Chen?
Zing Chen and his eponymous brand based in Shenzhen, China, is an interesting case study of the burgeoning classic menswear movement in East Asia. At least I think it is — there’s not a lot about it in English outside of Instagram or brief snippets on Tumblr. The brand is contemporaneously at the intersection of all these menswear networks and big names, but in other ways adjacent to it.
Formerly “The Firense”, based on the Renaissance centre’s profound influence on him, Zing made the rebrand fairly early on. “People were saying they were picking up suits at Zing’s, or getting a piece from Zing’s — it made more sense to just use my own name instead”, he says, while he and his young protégé, Hongbon, showed me around the showroom located in IFC. “Florence as an idea and a place is pretty divorced from China in terms of lifestyle and sartorial significance, so it never really caught on. I think a couple years after using my own name, it has a lot more cultural significance and character”.
I prod him a bit on this.
“Do you feel using a Western name for a tailoring business in China might have any effect on how the business is perceived? My impression was that people somehow believe it imbues the brand with more ‘prestige’.”
He doesn’t even have to ponder it.
“Maybe, but not really. I don’t think the name is as important as how you actually represent your brand”. How has Zing Chen been represented?
Zing Chen made its way into the global sartorial conversation with some assistance from Joe Ha of The Finery Company, well-documented appearances at Pitti, and a steady social media following. As Zing recounts, he was initially a client of Ha’s from his B&Tailor days, before developing a fruitful friendship and business relationship with him through assisting in trunk shows. Currently, Chen’s offerings have become a mainstay for The Finery Company, alongside other names such as Chiaia, Marini, etc. They’re also now accessible in Melbourne through trunk shows, and hopefully through a more streamlined e-Commerce process in the future, outside of Taobao.
Menswear and Sartorialism in Greater China
The timeline of classic menswear (in the Western sense) in the Greater China region has been well documented in the last 50 years so I won’t labour on the point, but it is prudent to set some sort of foundation. As helpfully chronologised by Mark Cho, Peter Chan and Tony Chang, cosmopolitan hubs in the earlier 20th century such as Shanghai, the effable ‘Paris of the East’, attracted poorer Ningbo migrants, who learnt from Russian and other established European tailors around the North-Eastern areas. This was followed by an exodus of these tailors to Hong Kong due to political instability, leading to a fairly cosmopolitan scene for tailoring, in light of Hong Kong’s existing styles. Generally speaking though, there hasn’t been a sartorial ‘culture’, upon any interpretation of the word, in China. “Most people only have one suit made for a wedding, and only people who work corporate in bigger cities might have the need for suits on a day to day basis” Zing explains. Hong Kong, Beijing and Shanghai would therefore be the locations where sartorial interest could be nurtured, if there were any.
Two stores are often credited with revitalisation in the Instagram era of tailoring in Greater China — The Armoury and Brio Beijing; the former galvanised the resurgence of interest and options in classic menswear for the region, while the latter, about half a decade later, was the first of its kind in the capital city, and still years ahead of the curve by way of tastemaking. Whilst The Armoury was perhaps more ‘globally’ focused and Brio being Eurocentric, none of these businesses necessarily set out to promulgate ‘Chinese’ craftsmanship or identity as an incipient business concept. Internet forums, Instagram and a rising middle class (and concomitant ‘graduation’ from high-fashion brands to comparatively ‘serious’ MTM/bespoke tailoring) have also been conducive to this movement. Simultaneously, this has spurred the creation of younger businesses, who developed their own brands with local tailors/workshops and emulated foreign styles presented by The Armoury and Brio at more accessible price points.
Zing Chen started some 6–7 years ago (between The Armoury and Brio), but has arguably been adjacent to the aforementioned movements for geographic, cultural and perhaps practical reasons. He recounts early years of his development:
“When I started out, I don’t think I really knew myself what sort of style I wanted to have — a lot of young guys start off with the most ‘modern’ of classic menswear silhouettes like a Florentine or Neapolitan cut, but the more I thought about it, the less convinced I was that the style suited who I was and what I wanted the brand to be.”
The Zing Chen Style
There are three lines comprising Bespoke, MTM and RTW, all of which will be touched on here.
Zing’s bespoke can go in whatever direction you want it to (e.g more #sartorial with a higher gorge, or longer lapel lines, etc), but the preferred embodiment of his suits takes after a much more classic flavour developed from experience— somewhere in the realms of an adjusted 40’s to 50’s inspiration, without being a replica. From the top down, the jacket includes a partially extended, soft natural shoulder, with a fairly full sleevehead and sleeve. Typically, the style will include mild roping, but Zing is able to accommodate for special requests like shirt-style sleeveheads. Immediately upon wearing the jacket, aesthetically it gives about as ‘naturally built’ as an impression as it can, without the need for excessive padding or other contrivances. The armhole is cut as high as possible, providing a large range of movement, but not unnecessarily high that it cuts into the armpit either. Cumulatively, imagine as if all the Esquire pictures/silhouettes of male outfits in the 1940’s-50’s manifested in real life, but with none of the gimmick.
“The extension of the shoulder requires a corresponding increase in jacket length, lest the silhouette be too squarish” Zing explains. The jackets also feature extremely subtle suppression around the waist, but as Zing notes, “because this is a classic style, we want a triangular shape, rather than an X” — as such, this is also supplemented by choosing not to incorporate flared out quarters. Again, seeing it on a mannequin on Instagram is far different to actually having it on you, as I would learn. Zing also directs my attention towards the pockets. “We cut it lower for balance purposes, since the jacket is longer”. For those who appreciate actually utilising these pockets, it seems to be a more intuitive and natural placement for the hands.
Additionally, there is typically a much lower and lengthened collar and gorge, before diving quickly into three buttons (or a 3-roll-2), accompanied by frontal darts. “If you have a much higher gorge with a 3-roll-2, the proportioning is slightly off because the lapel line length is just so long, and all other things remaining equal (e.g shoulder width), the triangle shape also becomes disproportionately long sometimes. You don’t actually need a big V-Zone for a lot of Chinese clients.” For non-sartorially inclined friends, this is the region comprising the inner edge of the lapel, the shirt and any necktie/accoutrement. He proceeds to use both hands to split the jacket at the buttoning point — “you see how there’s a kind of symmetry and coordination to these halves?”
Zing elaborates that this might not be what #sartorial savvy consumers (i.e Instagram fanatics) are used to seeing in the market, for a variety of reasons. “A starting point we consider is that, well, China is China. The Chinese consumer is built differently to a Western consumer in that they are less broad around the shoulders, arms and upper torso”. In comparison to tailoring businesses in Hong Kong or Shanghai, who may be patroned by a larger proportion of Western consumers, it’s a fair consideration. “Really, we’re following the basic tailoring principal of the silhouette compensating the respective body type. For example, the spalla camicia typically works for European men, who might not need the appearance of structure around the shoulder, but not really for the typical Chinese person.”
Trousers across all tiers have a consistent, more ‘accessible’ style, distinguished by the amount of handwork around the pockets, bar tacks and waistband curtain and lining. Predominant features include a higher rise sitting at the natural waist, deep pleats with bar tacks (going between forward and reverse pleats) and a sizeable cuff, but more noticeable is the thinner waistband of around 3cm (c.f Ambrosi) and front-on taper (but side on straightness of the leg). Combined with the jacket, the overall macro-visual appeal is a triangular figure typical of the era, maintaining the full cut. “It’s not just a classic aesthetic function either; we want clients to feel comfortable in work or leisurely activities, and this cut accommodates both of these” Zing says.
The MTM line, as most MTM goes, comes from block models with only an initial fitting required. Zing is flexible with MTM styles, but aside from his most preferred ‘house style’ in MTM, he offers a variety of silhouettes to peruse, from jackets utilising more commonly seen Florentine/Neapolitan indicators to abridged versions of his house model. It’s worth checking out on his website what such variety entails, as I don’t have the capacity to go through the entire repertoire. In saying so, here are some examples that I think are fairly accessible as MTM models.
Meanwhile, Zing’s RTW line is largely offered online, with the showroom being more directed to the bespoke/MTM experience. It covers most grounds, from ‘business’ suits, sportcoats, trousers, polos, knitwear, shirts and other accessories like braces. Zing’s proximity with his workshops facilitates fairly quick turnarounds, and much more closely regulated development. Significantly, the RTW line provides a panoply of colour ways for pieces that not only hit the technical/stylistic marks (e.g high rise trousers with pleats that fit bowed legs made from Huddersfield/Hardy Minnis), but also considerably friendlier price points.
In a field where paying upwards of $400 AUD for an in-house pique cotton polo has been normalised, this sort of accessibility is extremely welcome. For some zealots, the lack of sweat-and-tears hand stitching on a waist curtain or other handiwork could be a deal breaker, but this is not something I feel most reasonable people would or should be airing grievances about at these price points for RTW.
Bottom line: It’s a wonder why no one’s written about this in any articles, Instagram reviews, etc.
“Do you think you’ve had to overcome any particular hurdles, from either a bottom-line perspective or culturally as a younger Chinese brand?”
‘Younger brands’ in Greater China have had to contest a variety of stigma-based issues, and they have all been partially dispensed with through an amalgamation of marketing on social media, an inordinate amount of R&D, and client testimonies. Brand strategy aside, undoubtedly instrumental is the twofold use of ‘the European’; well-known Anglo-European fabrics, and European-inspired cuts (or derived, for the more cynical). These things, in themselves, are great, and have a reservoir of craft and knowledge to draw from. However, as with all things, the fanboys can ruin it, and its significant because they’re the potential consumers. Armchair experts with Eurocentric opinions informed by jargon rather than substantive experience on forums or otherwise are, or have been excessively sceptical about these younger brands on account of the quality of service, tailoring expertise, ‘character’, and authenticity, as elusively secured as this is.
A lot (obviously not all) of pejorative discourse surrounding sartorialism in Greater China has been rooted in veiled or internalised racism. It gives rise to perceptions of China’s inability to produce anything of quality, in comparison to European tailoring houses (or other sartorial businesses), which are often put on some pedestal, as the originators. It’s often not framed in this way publicly because there’s a veneer/buffer of an ‘objective’ vendible product, and there is no bright line distinction. Simon Crompton has often pointed out with accuracy, admittedly, that the market is mostly flooded with poorly constructed options, and that modern sartorial pedigree is often an exception in Greater China, rather than the rule. In spite of this, pressure to perform has partially been alleviated by a solid track record from younger businesses, but arguably this differs based on purpose.
Businesses curating international brands arguably face less scrutiny (solely in regards to the ‘production in China’ sense) and align with the ‘cosmopolitan’ nature of bigger cities, whereas businesses that produce their own line with production in China/Hong Kong (e.g Prologue, The Anthology, Craftsman Clothing, Lu Yang Bespoke Shoes) are far more likely to be robustly interrogated. It is important here to make several concessions; yes, established branding, goodwill and proven craftsmanship are big factors for consumer trust, and yes, consumers in a market should be able to compare market options. In saying so, to use ‘made in China’ as a crutch to support any opinion about a sartorial product, and compare substantially different businesses and markets like a Buzzfeed Worth It episode (without actual appreciation of each tier), is intellectually indolent, pernicious for developing brands and discourages younger entrepreneurship. Despite far less stigma than say, 10 years ago, for each customer using ‘made in China’ as a criticism, these businesses have to ostensibly get 5 additional publicly positive reviews to maintain goodwill.
While George Wang might suggest that there is ‘no stigma anymore’ with production in China, 2019 sets the stage for the globalised sartorialist to be equipped with a plenitude of information of varying qualities, accrued from greater access to sartorial businesses, production networks, and social media. Whether they choose to be the producer or the consumer of sartorial craft, we have to firstly ask, ‘who determines what good sartorial craft is?’ then secondly, ‘Is that monopolised, and who has a seat at the table?’ and finally, ‘where does/should the onus lie if change is to be made?’. All are questions worth considering.
Zing has a more constructive outlook on this than I do. “Look, there’s probably some sort of demographic that thinks China is ‘bad’ production and design wise, but for me, I see it as an opportunity to correct these assumptions and show them the quality of our work”.
“It’s not like technology — tailoring is a pretty mature (read: old) field of enterprise, and doesn’t really require a huge amount of research. China’s always had some great tailors, but the idea of ‘doing things meticulously’ has been missing because of mass production for economic stimulus. What we’re doing now is bringing a ‘new’ concept and philosophy to these tailors and telling them what exactly needs to be done well. Take shoulder pads, for example — they’ve been taught to use them and that’s what they know. But if you show them a Neapolitan jacket, for example, it’s not like the idea of a softer shoulder is inherently novel — it’s more like, ‘oh, I’ve never really thought or done it like this before’. It’s like any other country, really. China’s tailors haven’t necessarily travelled the world to go and learn about all these different styles.”
Perhaps assessing tailoring expertise of a region with the benefit of globalised internet exposure and hindsight, without considering how it built from an absolute zero following the Cultural Revolution and Western imperialism, would be at best, misinformed. While I don’t intend to herald in an era of untrammelled Chinese production quality, you would be amiss to suggest there is no cultural element to menswear at all.
Zing Chen’s Direction
“Can I expect to see Zing Chen as a dominant force in the Asian sartorial scene in the future?” I ask, half jokingly. I wouldn’t mind seeing it happen.
Zing and Hongbon chuckle. “We didn’t really set out to do this for fame — we want to bring and share our interest and passion with people and the community. As we said before, there’s a distinction, I think, between ‘sartorialism’ and just ‘tailoring’ or ‘suits’. I think where we want to direct ourselves is helping people take that step from buying a suit just for work or for a wedding and unveiling this entire subculture and history behind it, so that they become interested in ‘sartorial’ things.”
They also gesture towards the RTW products. “That’s where the RTW comes in — the RTW material has a two-pronged purpose; firstly, it is more accessible price point-wise and culturally to a younger crowd, who might not immediately warm up to our very classic cuts, and secondly, as it is mainly online, it helps us reach a more global market as well.”
R&D associated with RTW in a classic menswear context can be tricky. The term is inherently prescriptive and limited; literally everything has been on the market, and the modern consumer is smarter. The relevant variables aren’t novel — materials, cut/style and price point are pivotal given the modern consumer has access to entire catalogues of product on a smartphone.
“If you think about the polo shirt, which has a fair amount of history, we take a look at its forms throughout history and different cuts for research. We want something that’s historically informed but still relevant to wear now, and is compatible with our Bespoke and MTM lines. They’re not completely separate brands — they still have the same concepts and philosophy”.
The Future of Menswear in China
There are so many facets to consider that to comprehensively give shape to such a future in this article is overly ambitious. The view that some Chinese sartorial business owners, including Zing, adopt is that sartorialism and classic menswear is a trend in China, just like Raf Simons Ozweegos, Justin Bieber Purpose Merch, and Reverse Weave hoodies. To suggest that there could be a cyclical return to classic menswear assumes it was amorphously embedded into the tapestry of Chinese culture and history at some identifiable moment — it hasn’t.
“The thing is, you can’t just import these goods and hope some sort of sartorial culture develops around it in the future — it’s important to actually consider whether it fits the local culture as well”, Zing explains. It reminded me of something I briefly gandered at with my Calder article (Naples and Melbourne). “Dress codes really vary depending on age not only in China, but generally, I think. If you’re a student, you prioritise things like comfort in classes, so sportswear is very typical. Formality in dress codes is kind of like a pyramid — it only really concentrates towards the top. For people to actually understand this sartorial culture, they need it conceptually split for them into normal tailoring and ‘sartorialism’.”
“Do you think the herd mentality people often talk about regarding China and fashion also happens with sartorialism in China?”
“Yes, I think so — Chinese sartorial culture right now (and maybe in the future) is still very trend based, so it falls into the same issues.” Zing replies. What does this entail though? “The influence of social media has been enormous. “When I first went to Pitti about 6 years ago, there were no Chinese people. In 2019, you go to the wall and it’s all peacocks, and Chinese people” he laughs.
To a degree, sartorialism, which can also devolve into brand worshipping, can fall into the trappings of consumerism. As far back as 2016, the McKinsey Report on Chinese Consumerism suggests growing premium selectivity in consumer spending, with increasing amounts of people spending the ‘best and most expensive’ offering. Additionally, the report notes that consumers were less willing to consider brands they hadn’t before, with 59% of surveyed consumers agreeing with the statement that they would by ‘buy famous-branded products if I had more money’. The key here, of course, being ‘famous-branded’ — sartorialism and classic menswear is a niche within the luxury market, so the extent to which such a report can be applied has limitations. A better way to reconcile this might be seeing the herd mentality across two fronts; firstly, following high fashion with no consideration and then using sartorialism as an escapist method, and secondly, the resultant herd mentality of when you pursue sartorialism but realise there is no established culture (and only a trend of it), forcing you to copy looks seen on everyone else with social media.
This broaches the idea of whether you can escape, temporarily, a herd mentality by wearing something ‘uniquely Chinese’, or escape criticisms of cheap emulations without character. Juan Juan Wu (in her 2009 publication, Chinese Fashion: From Mao to Now) propounds an interesting future where despite the early imperialism of luxury Western brands in the Chinese market, production AND manufacture of luxury brands will be Chinese. Here, the nouveau riches may shift their preferences towards brands constructed with a congruent vision and aesthetics recognised inside and outside of China, as Chinese. The catholicity of this idea is immense; there are around 56 recognised ethnic groups in China — as Xi Wang would argue, semiotic representation is difficult given China’s supposed ‘multiculturalism, diversity and unity’ are constructed and expressed (at least to a certain degree) often through omnipresent display of juxtaposed technicolored ‘traditional’ clothing. The exoticisation of minority culture for majority gain is not something to be explored in this article, but the point is that it’s difficult demarcating the parameters of ‘Chinese’. Does Chinese identity in sartorialism/fashion branding have to incorporate both the modern and the traditional? The majority and the minority? The global and the local? Or is it defined by something else entirely?
No one knows what form this might fundamentally take, if it does happen. It seems problematic to project orientalist archetypes on Chinese fashion/sartorialism for it to be ‘authentically Chinese’ (e.g reductivist use of dragon patterned silk prints, qipaos or Alexander Wang’s perhaps torpid use of ‘oriental’ typeface — but note perhaps alternative approaches like the Mandarin Jacket from Prologue or new startup MANDO that supports diverse representation with ‘culturally inspired clothing’). Whether you like it or not, ‘China’ is global, and it’s modern. Zing is perhaps more pragmatic about this. He doesn’t purport to state that traditional culture should be discarded, but he has some reservations. “If you’re walking around the streets, you don’t see people around wearing qipaos or cheongsams and robes — bringing that rigid traditionality back in menswear might not be appropriate. Also, it can’t just be something where you point to it and you say ‘that’s Chinese’ for the sake of it. Above all, the craft and product has to be beautiful first. I think there will probably be something in the future that is uniquely Chinese, though.”
Contrastingly, in the recent Greater China Symposium hosted by Simon Crompton, Tobe of Craftsman Clothing has suggested rather than something steeped in cultural ties, the go-to garment may be determined by climate (e.g tropical humidity in Southern China) and functional use. The preponderant use of high-twist or open weaved fabrics in sartorial options around South East Asia seems to evince this approach.
Zing also makes some further points. “You have to remember that the idea of the suit, or classic menswear as we know it, is fundamentally Anglo-European. Chinese guys into menswear now are going to be looking at those styles. But in our own time, we’re going to to be able to do our own things, and craft our own style.”
“If you look at Japan, which took about 60–70 years to be globally renowned for its own style and quality craftsmanship now, China is in the same position. The culture has only really started rebuilding a small while ago, so it’s really a matter of time and effort.” For purposes of clarity, he refers to Japan and Kensuke Ishizu’s wholesale importation of Ivy/Trad/Prep around the 1960’s onwards, but here the modern Chinese scene does not operate in a vacuum. Modern China has immediate access to points of distinction between styles and cultures given the importation of the ‘global’ through technology in a much more rapid and transient manner.
We also have to remember that we’re talking about a non-homogenous population of above a billion. As the McKinsey report suggests in relation to the 22 listed city clusters, consumer behaviours in, say, Shanghai or international students generally won’t necessarily solely define the market. To make too generalised a statement about such a demographic’s ‘discerning taste’ or ‘lack thereof’ is simply unproductive.
Ultimately, sartorial businesses (even European based) have received a fortuitous second wind, galvanised by the Greater Chinese market — how long this will be sustained remains to be seen.
Conclusion
I’d like to thank Zing and Hongbon for being so gracious with their time and being patient with a kid who really should be able to speak Chinese even more extensively given his cultural heritage. There’s a lot I asked them, there’s a lot to consider here, and there’s a lot that wasn’t even included here. There’s a lot that might not even, on a day to day basis, be relevant for a lot of Chinese consumers or business owners. Maybe even the label of ‘Chinese’ is fallacious and too distastefully suggestive.
Whatever the case may be, I’m just here to posit some ideas and introduce others to one of the more interesting exports from Greater China. Zing, Hongbon and the team are slowly but surely developing a cult following in the sartorial market — be sure to keep an eye out.
Zing Chen is based in Shenzhen, China, and holds trunk shows around Beijing/Shanghai, as well as through The Finery Company in Australia. He also runs the Online Store currently based on Taobao, and independent e-Commerce very near in the future — to keep updated, catch him on @zingchenofficial or @zing_chen_ on Instagram or Wechat.
