If you really think about it, fashion does reveal more than an individual's personal style or the clothing trends of a particular period. More often than not, they reflect something of a larger scale - they reflect the modes and mores of the times.

For instance, two outfits which best echo what transpired in China in the last hundred years are the Mao suit and the qipao (a.k.a. "cheongsam"). Not surprisingly, like most fashion trends, the qipao has made a big comeback: since the 90s, cheongsams of all cuts, colors and sizes have become in vogue not only in China and in Chinese communities around the world, but also in international fashion capitals such as Paris, New York, Milan and London. As such, one cannot help but wonder: now that cheongsams are back in fashion, does this mean that the Sleeping Dragon, that China is -- is now alive and roaring? But before this question can even be answered, let's take a closer look into the origins and how the qipao has evolved over the years.

Curiously, the qipao (meaning, "banner gown"), which has become a ubiquitous symbol of "Chinese-ness", is
not really Chinese in origin. Actually, it came from the Manchu, a semi-nomadic tribe that established the Ching dynasty, which ruled the last 300 years of imperial China. But unlike today's tight-fitting cheongsams, qipaos of the past were long and loose. These robe-like and ankle-length garments had side vents to facilitate freedom of movement and overlapping front flaps which fastened with hoops and toggles at the right shoulder. Initially, only wealthy women wore these ornately embroidered gowns.

But after the fall of the Manchurian reign, female students quickly adapted this practice when they realized how practical and modest the qipaos were as school uniforms, as opposed to the gym slips and short skirts donned by Western school girls. As a matter of fact, some Hong Kong schools still use cheongsams as uniforms to this day.

Around the 1920s, the qipao came to signify modernity. And as China opened its doors to Western influence,
the garment itself became more shaped and fitted. The dress got yet another boost in popularity when film
stars in Shanghai adopted it as their on- and off-screen attire. Soon, it became a regular item in the wardrobes of middle-class women in Shanghai, Beijing and Hong Kong. It was also during this period that illustrated calendars and posters depicting women clad in qipao were distributed throughout China and Southeast Asia, which further promoted its image as the "Chinese dress".

When the "bias cut" of clothes was introduced in the '30s, the dress became even more fitted. Other improvements, such varying lengths and heights of slits and collars, also became fashionable. Some posters from this era portrayed women in body-hugging cheongsams with thigh-high slits, which allowed fleeting glimpses of the subtle sheen of their silk stockings. Such posters are not unlike modern-day fashion magazines: they  showcase glamorous models in sophisticated creations that cater to every woman's fantasy of looking gorgeous.

Come the '40s, with humanity preoccupied with World War II, everything else took a back seat. A few years
later, when battles had been won and lost, people devoted their energies to the task of rebuilding their lives and coping with the changes the war has wrought. In Mainland China, Mao Zedong's Communist Party took over the reins of governance after 1949. And, as with all societies that undergo a transfer of power, monumental changes swept the country. As such, even the qipao wasn't spared: it was condemned as a symbol of decadence and was consequently outlawed. And what replaced its function as the "Chinese dress"? The Mao suit. With its utilitarian lines, this no-frills dress became the "official" outfit of every citizen. As such, the compliance of the Chinese to this decree was only one of the manifestations that Mainland China was nation where conformity was the rule.

To be continued...