Small World, Big City: Shanghai

Shanghai is where my wallet went to die.

When I was in high school, I went to China with my parents, and I remembered thinking that I liked Shanghai a lot back then--more than Beijing, though to be fair, on this trip I realized that I pretty much like most cities more than Beijing. Shanghai is like Beijing's edgy cousin.

Arriving from Suzhou however, I found Shanghai completely overwhelming. Now we were back to row after row of skyscrapers, expansive streets, and tons of people and traffic. I wasn't really sure where to start, so I went to the famous Nanjing Road, where Shanghai's fashion industry rose to fame. It was really just okay--mostly American and European brands, which I'm really not so interested in. After walking around a bit and going by the People's Square, which is also just okay, I decided to take a cab to a better shopping place.

My guidebook recommended either XinTianDi or TianZiFang. I asked the cab driver which he would recommend, and he said that XinTianDi is more for foreign brands now too--both places are done in the style of old Chinese alley houses, but TianZiFang is supposedly more charming and unique. I decided to go to TianZiFang, since my book also recommended that one.

TianZiFang was like a fairy land, where time sort of got blurry. It was like being caught in a haze, and by the time I drifted out of it, I found that I was late for my train back and my wallet was empty. It's like Shanghai had drugged me and robbed me. To make matters even worse, I had only gone through one section of TianZiFang! There was a lot left. It's a good thing that I had bought my train ticket in advance, otherwise I would have spent a lot more. I had only woken up from my daze because I wanted to buy a pink silk scarf with dragonflies on it, and I had run out of cash, so I asked where the nearest ATM was, planning to max out my withdrawal and go back and go nuts. As I left though, I checked the time and realized that I needed to head back to the subway.

So here I am, regretting that pink scarf that I didn't buy, and hoping that the store has a branch in Beijing. I don't even really wear scarves though, so it's a bit silly for me to get it. But it was so so pretty. Chinese do silk better than any other nation in the world, and the South is China's silk capital. It's like going to the heart of the heart of the silk industry. These large panel scarves float up as you lift them, and slide around your neck in glowing ripples. If water and wind combined, that would be these scarves--smooth and glistening like a wave, light and airy like a breeze. The crazy in me wants to go back to Shanghai again tomorrow to buy that scarf, but I do realize that would be insane. Maybe a slightly less crazy thing to do would be to scour the streets of Suzhou to see if I can find that store here. Problem is, I don't remember the name!

I love Chinese qipaos, a traditional type of dress, but I never really look good in them. My neck is not that long, so I find that they tend to make me look short. I realized however, in Shanghai, that it's all about fit. Most of the ones I had tried on before simply were not meant for me--they were too loose or too tight in the wrong areas. I actually had given up on qipaos, after trying one more on in Suzhou, but there were many boutiques in TianZiFang with designers who made qipaos out of unusual fabrics. That is my weakness--Eastern Western fusion. I stopped by a store where they made qipaos out of cotton, with western style prints. I had seen and tried on cotton qipaos before, they also hadn't worked for me. But I like to look and imagine, so I had been planning to just browse. The store lady picked out a black and white cotton qipao, and said, "you will look good in this."

Black is probably the last color I would have picked, since I like qipaos for their vibrancy. But, I figured it didn't hurt to try. To my surprise, it did look pretty good. I tried on a few of her other items, and ended up picking a qipao style shirt. The cheap qipaos that you can get for less than 20 on the street simply are not well made. They fit poorly, and the fabric just doesn't look nice. This area in Shanghai had many high quality qipaos, many with creative fabrics. There was one that used kimono fabric to make qipaos. Others were hand embroidered. The prices ranged from 120 yuan to ten thousand yuan, about 20 dollars to well over a thousand dollars.

I stopped by another small boutique, where the owner makes only one of each qipao. There are no sizes because she just makes one, in whatever size she feels like. I tried on a red silk qipao with pink flowers, but it was too big. There was another that I would not have tried, but the owner said, "this one is small, maybe it will fit you better."

This qipao fit like a glove, like it was custom made for me. It was red, a silk print of a photograph actually, of repeating white flowers. There were buttons down the side. The owner was very happy. She said, "normally our qipao's sell right away, but I've had trouble selling this one because it doesn't really fit anyone properly."

Maybe that makes sense, because no other qipaos fit me properly, so maybe my body type is an odd match. This qipao was tight in the right places, and the style was very much a mix of east and west. The listing price was higher than what I would be willing to pay, but before I tried it on, she had already given me a "discount". I bargained the price down further, and eventually she said, "I will give it to you for cheaper, because I can see that this qipao has finally found its owner."

Regardless of whether she meant that or not, I did feel that way, like I had finally found my qipao, after searching these past weeks, and through many cities. The funny thing is, both of the qipao style clothes were not ones that I originally would have chosen.

I spent a lot of time in a photographer's gallery; his name is Rui Yuan C, and I encourage you to check out his website at ruiyuanc.com. I usually find photographers overrated--a lot of people just pick up a camera and shoot whatever and they call themselves "professional photographers." Some photographers though, really blow me away, and he was one of them. I loved his series of children in rural China. I think that a really good photographer can capture more than just an image--it triggers an emotion, and somehow you can connect with the subject just be looking at what essentially is just a thin paper. His photographs made me smile. If you could bottle joy, that was the theme of his artwork. My favorites included a little boy holding a bowl of rice, and laughing while looking at a dog, who looking like it was laughing back. He also captures landscapes beautifully, though I think what truly sets him apart is how he captures people. I included two screenshot from his website; his work is really amazing.