How the Legacy of Imperialism Still Lingers in Shanghainese Vocabulary

In the 1840s, British artillery cracked open the Qing Dynasty, and Shanghai became one of China’s first commercial ports. Naturally, a novel vocabulary was coined to label things in this new world, and the Shanghainese dialect, one of the hundreds of dialects in China, experienced rapid modernization.

In the 1920s, the development of modern Chinese literature was a powerful spur that helped the Shanghainese dialect enter its golden age of growth. Writers in Shanghai translated scores of English words, which were spread widely in various forms of local print media at that time. Some of them were fully absorbed into Mandarin.

Words starting with the character ‘yang’ (洋) are among these newly created words, and many words invented at this time combine yang with one or two other characters.

The character yang alludes to Western imports, while the characters after generally stand for existing things in the Chinese world. According to the Shanghai Dialect Dictionary (SDD), ‘Yang X’ means “a person, an object, or a situation that originated in the West while resembling an existing thing in China.”

Culture Shock

The majority of such words are nouns; yangren (洋人), meaning ‘foreign people,’ is an obvious example. The SDD divides such vocabulary into two categories of ‘Yang X.’

The first category refers to imported goods with local counterparts. For example, premodern coins in Shanghai were mainly made of copper and were called tongtian (铜钿), which literally means ‘bronze coins.’ However, when the West introduced silver currency to Shanghai, the locals began calling it yangtian (洋钿), meaning coins from the West.

Many comestibles belong to this category as well. As shanyu means ‘sweet potatoes’ in the Shanghai dialect, Shanghainese call potatoes ‘yangshanyu’ (洋山芋).

Before celery came to China, the locals mostly ate qin (芹), a similar vegetable with thinner leaves. As you might have guessed, celery came to be named yangqin (洋芹).

There is also yangcong (洋葱), which means onion, and yangjiang (洋姜), which means artichoke. Their Chinese counterparts are cong (葱), meaningscallions, and jiang (姜), aka ginger.

New Material World

This first category also encompasses household objects. Shanghainese can readily come up with many examples, such as yangpen (洋盆), which means ‘basin from the West,’ yangyou (洋油), or ‘oil from the West,’ and yangding (洋钉), or ‘nail from the West.’

Nowadays, many of these objects are obsolete and can only be found in museums or antique shops. As a matter of course, their descriptors are fading away.

yangyou kerosol lamp yang vocabulary radii
Kerosene lamps used to be called ‘foreign oil lamps’ in Shanghai because kerosene was known as ‘foreign oil.’ Image via Twitter

Nevertheless, these items, which bear practical value and rich cultural significance, were once an intangible part of the average Shanghainese person’s life. A case in point is yangpen, a kind of enamel basin. An indispensable item on any dowry list, it was among other prerequisite materials for a couple from decent family backgrounds to get married.

Even when talking about lazhu (蜡烛), or candles, Shanghainese people usually add the character for yang in front of the word. Although the use of candles has been recorded in Chinese historical documents for centuries, many Shanghainese call candles, as we know them, ‘yanglazhu.’ This is because candles were primarily used for lighting at the beginning of modern China, whereas in Western culture, candles have had different uses, including being a part of birthday celebrations and religious activities.

A popular Shanghainese proverb goes, “You are just like yanglazhu — you will not light up without someone’s fire” (侬真是个洋蜡烛,勿点勿亮). This means that a ‘yanglazhu person’ might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, or is too slow and stubborn to take stock of a situation.

Stereotypes in Slang

In the second category of ‘yang X,’ ‘X’ refers to things without similar counterparts in China at the time. For example, yangnannan (洋囡囡) means ‘cute dolls introduced from the West,’ although nannan is usually a slang term for ‘little girls.’

The sudden surge of ‘yang X’ words in the Shanghainese dialect shows that many locals were fascinated by the advanced material civilization from the West after the door to the world opened up.

Some words, such as yangzhuang (洋装, ‘outfit from the West’), yangsan (洋伞, ‘umbrella from the West’), and yangqin (洋琴, ‘instrument from the West’), have retained their positive connotations for decades. Compared with the corresponding local items, traditional Chinese clothing, traditional oil-paper umbrellas, and traditional instruments, these ‘yang’ goods were considered more fashionable and of superior quality.

Shanghainese businessmen who used to struggle to earn a living in the metropolis surely had at least one yangzhuang suit in their wardrobe.

When followed by ‘biesan’ (瘪三), the word yangzhuang takes on a different and negative meaning. In Shanghainese, a biesan is a vagrant who wanders around the city without a proper occupation, and yangzhuang biesan (洋装瘪三) are conmen who wear their only suit all the time, pretending to be rich men.

Therefore, whether or not it was intentional, the dozens of ‘yang X’ words carry cultural stereotypes of the Shanghainese people towards the West at a time when China and the world had just begun to communicate in the 1930s.

From Creek to Cuss Word

In addition to nouns, several adjectives carry the same ‘yang X’ structure.

1. Yangqi (洋气)

In the 1920s through the 1930s, a yangqi individual was someone who always adhered to Western fashion or who aspired to lead a similar lifestyle as a foreigner. Nowadays, the term applies to anything that is highly coveted.

2. Yangpan (洋盘)

A yangpan person cannot distinguish counterfeit from genuine articles because they are only laymen. The term also applies to the inexperienced or gullible.

3. Yangtaotao (洋淘淘)

This expression describes a careless or sloppy person who is indifferent to a task at hand.

4. Yangjingbang (洋泾浜)

Deserving a longer explanation, Yangjingbang was originally a tributary of the Huangpu River. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, the river was located just outside the north gate of Shanghai county. After Shanghai opened up, the Yangjingbang just so happened to lie right in the middle of the newly established British and French concessions, which served as the base of many expat businesses.

While many Chinese employees picked up English while at work, most of them spoke broken English and converted Chinese to English word by word. The Shanghainese called their new language ‘yangjingbang.’

The Yangjingbang waterway was filled up and turned into a road in 1915, which was named after Edward VII, the King of Britain. Today, it is known as Yan’an East Road. It is a perfect example of how modern Shanghai’s roads were initially formed over rivers and streams, which led to the contemporary layout of the city.

Yangjingbang is still an extensively used expression in the Shanghainese dialect. The adjective can either mean someone who speaks the local dialect improperly or an uneducated person who speaks broken English.

undefined
Yangjingbang Creek (上海洋泾浜) in Shanghai in 1907. Image via University of Bristol

As we can see, the above adjectives convey local stereotypes of foreigners. Save for yangqi, the other three aren’t exactly flattering.

This can presumably be pinned to locals’ negative impressions of foreigners after droves of businessmen and merchants descended on Shanghai. After all, it was the foreigners with their alien languages and appearances who were speculating in markets and chasing wealth. As a form of self-defense, the Shanghainese, who felt maltreated by the newcomers, naturally developed stereotypes against the unusual, the unfamiliar, and the powerful.

Cover image designed by Zhuohan Shao

Chinese Consumers Rally Behind Paris Baguette After Bakery Fined $85k

The Shanghai Municipal Government has fined Paris Baguette 585,000 RMB (about 84,324 USD) for violating food safety laws during Shanghai’s lockdown earlier this year. In a show of solidarity for the bakery, customers swiftly rushed to support the brand, and outlets across China soon sold out of baked goods.

Like many others, employees of Paris Baguette were temporarily barred from returning to their homes during the city-wide lockdown. Those who had been working at a food-processing factory found shelter at one of the company’s training centers.


In light of food shortages, they began accepting tuangou — aka ‘group food orders’ — from the local community.


As the brand’s food production license does not extend to its training facilities, police shut the whole operation down. According to food safety regulations, all equipment and raw materials used in unlicensed food production can be lawfully confiscated, and participating parties can be fined 10 to 20 times the value of their earnings (which must also be given up).


In line with this law, the city’s market regulation bureau fined Paris Baguette 10 times the amount their unlicensed operation made during the lockdown.


paris baguette products haul protest

One customer splurged on Paris Baguette goods to support the bakery chain. Image via Weibo


Chinese netizens have protested the decision to penalize Paris Baguette, saying that authorities should not punish the company for trying to provide food to locked down Shanghai residents during a challenging time.


“When no one has food to eat, selling food should be considered an emergency adaptation. Even if the company isn’t complying with regulations, we must consider the actual circumstances,” voiced one netizen on the microblogging platform Weibo.


Another made the following argument, “If a person fainted suddenly on the street and a doctor passing by rescued him, would the government think that the doctor broke the law for practicing medicine in a place where the doctor was unregistered?”


Meanwhile, others have railed against the perception that food regulations have been unjustly applied in the case of Paris Baguette.


“During the lockdown, there were some unheard-of brands, low-quality meat, and rotten food in my community group-buy orders. Do those food manufacturers have production licenses? How does the community food distribution system operate? Were there permits?” questioned one Weibo user.


paris baguette china

Examples of Paris Baguette’s group-buy packages during Shanghai’s lockdown. Image via WeChat


Many netizens have taken action to right what they see as an injustice by patronizing their nearest Paris Baguette branch, leaving many bakeries completely bereft of baked goods.


sold out paris baguette store

Empty shelves at a Paris Baguette store in China. Image via Weibo


paris baguette food pastry shanghai lockdown protest

One Weibo user’s Paris Baguette haul. Image via Weibo


In response to the furor, the Shanghai Market Regulation Bureau released a statement on September 3. The bureau stated that its primary goal was to protect the health and safety of citizens and that the punishment exacted upon Paris Baguette had been the bare minimum.


Contrary to what some might imagine, Paris Baguette is not French but a Korean multinational bakery chain that offers affordable bread, pastries, cakes, sandwiches, and other French-inspired fare. Belonging to Spc Group, the company has nearly 300 stores in China under the subsidiary Shanghai Spc Foodstuff Co., Ltd.


Cover image via Weibo

Are Chinese Celebrities Abandoning Foreign-sounding Stage Names?

On September 1, comedian and actress Lamuyangzi took to Weibo to publicly announce that she would be giving up her Japanese-sounding stage name and going by her real name, Li Jiaqi, henceforth.


“My mother said everything is better as it is. I will follow what she said and go back to using my real name. Or you can call me Xiaola (meaning ‘little spicy’) if that’s easier,” reads the actress’ viral post, which has been liked more than 581,000 times. The news quickly made the rounds on Chinese social media, and a related hashtag had amassed a staggering 730 million views at the time of writing.

Lamuyangzi’s name change might confuse some people, as her real name, Li Jiaqi, sounds exactly like the name of the famous ‘Lipstick King’ livestreamer. Potentially adding to the confusion is the fact the actress also began her career as a livestreamer.


In an interview, Lamuyangzi revealed that she had chosen her Japanese-sounding, four-syllable stage name to poke fun at herself for not living up to the mainstream’s narrow beauty standards.


Following the viral news, screenwriter and film critic Wang Hailin, who boasts 3 million fans on Weibo, weighed in with a viral post that has received more than 700,000 likes.


According to Wang, Lamuyangzi’s choice was not personal but was dictated by the National Radio and Television Administration (NRTA), which has decided that celebrities should no longer be allowed to adopt foreign or foreign-sounding stage names.


The critic also made a claim regarding the actress, singer, and model Angelababy: Although the Chinese artist has yet to make a public announcement or change her moniker on her social media, she will allegedly be going by her Chinese name, Yang Ying, in the near future.

In the wake of Wang’s claims, Chinese netizens have flooded Weibo with bitter remarks.


“Is CCTV going to change its logo?” asked one netizen, highlighting that the Chinese state-owned broadcaster’s icon features the initials for its English-language name, China Central Television.


“I suggest we get rid of English classes altogether,” wrote another Weibo user sarcastically.


Many netizens have expressed concern for Chinese rappers, who often adopt English aliases. Unsurprisingly, many rappers have quickly jumped on board the irony train and offered extremely literal and hilarious Mandarin translations of their English stage names.


For example, Higher Brothers’ KnowKnow half-jokingly posted, “Hello, I’m LouLou, or you can call me DongDong.” The Weibo post has since been deleted.


Wang’s allegations that the NRTA is behind Lamuyangzi’s name change remain unproven, and a rule forbidding foreign or foreign-sounding stage names has not been publicly announced. However, it would not be the first time that China has tried to downscale the importance of the English language in the country. In 2021, Shanghai, arguably China’s most cosmopolitan city, forbade elementary schools to hold English final exams. Many interpreted the action as a pushback against Western influence.


Additionally, the entertainment industry is heavily regulated in China: In 2018, tattoos and ‘non-mainstream culture’ were banned from being depicted on TV.


Cover image designed by the author

What Is ‘Neo-Chinese Style’ and Why Is It (Still) Trending?

Never thought you’d ever see a cyberpunk Tang suit? Or a Y2K version of the qipao? Think again!


‘Neo-Chinese style’ (新中式, xin zhongshi) is the latest and most exciting chapter in the unofficial book of guochao (国潮) fashion.


neo chinese styòe

Outfits from Chinese brand Loumutaku’s lookbook. Image via Taobao


Literally meaning ‘national trend,’ guochao is fueled by Chinese consumers’ increasing interest in domestic brands that celebrate Chinese traditions, customs, and culture. Its early days saw a prevalence of streetwear and athleisure brands such as Li-Ning.


Neo-Chinese fashion, meanwhile, often features Chinese elements in subtler ways and pairs them with other modern aesthetics, such as dyed hair and bold makeup.


Following the publication of a white paper titled ‘2022 Taobao and Tmall Apparel Industry Trends Report’ on August 26, the hashtag ‘Why has neo-Chinese style gone viral?’ (#为什么新中式穿搭火了#) has been trending on the microblogging platform Weibo and garnered more than 230 million views.


According to the report, Zoomers are undoubtedly the most significant players shaping the Chinese fashion industry. Moreover, they are embracing a variety of more diverse styles, including the neo-Chinese style.


chinese style

Outfits from Chinese brand Cuudiclab’s lookbook. Image via Taobao


Influenced by the rise of Douyin and Xiaohongshu, China’s answers to TikTok and Instagram, neo-Chinese style has dramatically evolved over the past few years. Niche Gen Z communities in China thrive on these platforms, sharing everything from their OOTD (outfit of the day) to makeup tutorials and masterful cosplay getups.


A search on Xiaohongshu reveals the hashtag ‘Neo-Chinese Style’ (#新中式#) has been viewed approximately 130 million times, while ‘Neo-Chinese Style Outfits’ (#新中式穿搭#) has been viewed more than 72 million times.


chinese style

Fashionista Mirabelle (left) modeling three autumn outfits in pastel and earthy tones, and 落水三千 (right) sporting a dark, avant-garde look. Images via Xiaohongshu


In addition to sharing pictures of their outfits, Xiaohongshu users list their favorite brands specializing in neo-Chinese style. Many of these lists often feature high fashion labels such as Yueqi Qi and Samuel Guì Yang, as well as emerging brands like Apozi Collection, Loumutaku, and Tilt Knees; the latter are only sold on Taobao and are hard to find outside China.


Some of these brands gravitate towards neutral colors and sophisticated vibes when interpreting neo-Chinese style; others borrow elements from trending aesthetics like Y2K and cyberpunk.


chinese style

Fashion influencer 大道 modeling a neo-Chinese style getup that combines Chinese elements with goth aesthetics. Image via Xiaohongshu


The success of neo-Chinese style stems from the ongoing national trend craze, but it can also be attributed to crossover creativity. With their daring and experimental fashion sense, Chinese youth feel seen by brands that combine elements of their culture with the digital world and niche aesthetics.


Cover image designed by Zhuohan Shao

Show Your Athletic Prowess in Metaverse-based Sports Competition

Ever liked the idea of rowing down the Huangpu River or cruising along the Bund on a bicycle? The Shanghai Virtual Sports Open is your chance to do so — all while staying stationary.


The first event of its kind to be held on a large scale in China, the sports competition opened for registrations on September 1, and will take place in the Meita Sports Metaverse (莓塔元宇宙), which was built by Juss Intellisports. Organizers first exhibited the technology for the event on August 5, when the metaverse — inspired in part by iconic Shanghai locations — officially ‘opened.’


From September to December, registered participants can compete in five virtual sporting events: rowing, cycling, skiing, running, and golf. Regardless of fitness, age, or nationality, anyone may sign up via the event’s WeChat mini program.


A screenshot from the Shanghai Virtual Sports Open’s promotional broadcast. Image via Weibo

A screenshot from the Shanghai Virtual Sports Open’s promotional broadcast. Image via Weibo


In-person registration is also available at select locations, which have been outfitted with virtual rowing and cycling trial stations. In the contest’s promotional broadcast (see the image above), several influencers are seen riding stationary bikes and checking on their progress using mobile phones.


To compete, participants can use VR equipment at home and upload their results, or head to offline stores to use simulation technology. Once connected into the vividly rendered metaverse, participants will see familiar sights, like Shanghai’s iconic Pearl Tower, as well as more far-flung locations, like a tropical island and icy alpine slopes.


golfing berry tower metaverse shanghai virtual sports open

A golfer in the Meita metaverse. Image via Weibo


Winners in the rowing, cycling, and racing categories will be determined by speed, while those in the golf and skiing sections will be rated using a points system. The organizers are reportedly giving out up to 370,000 RMB (about 53,000 USD) in prize money.


The event reflects the potential of Web3 development in China, as well as a worldwide commitment to growing the virtual sports industry. Global revenue from virtual sports is estimated to have risen from 493 million USD in 2016 to 16.5 billion USD in 2021.


In related news, earlier this year saw the launch of Impakt, a virtual fitness platform that awards its users with cryptocurrency for burning calories.


biking berry tower metaverse shanghai virtual sports open juss intellisports

A cyclist in Meita’s metaverse. Image via Weibo


According to the Chinese news outlet The Paper, the Shanghai Virtual Sports Open aims to set a precedent for virtual sporting events and to encompass a broader range of sports like tennis, soccer, marathons, and basketball in the near future.


Cover image via Weibo

Netizens Create a Racket Over Louis Vuitton’s Table Tennis Paddles

How much would you spend on table tennis paddles? 10 USD? Maybe 20 USD? Well, if you answered anything less than 2,600 USD, you won’t be unleashing ‘balls of fury’ with French luxury brand Louis Vuitton’s new table tennis equipment.


The ‘James Ping Pong Set,’ currently available in select Louis Vuitton stores and on the brand’s official website, comes in two different colors and includes two paddles, racket covers emblazoned with the brand’s logo, four ‘ping-pong’ balls, and — cue laughter — a leather harness for the balls.


Touted as “a great travel companion,” the paddles have Louis Vuitton medallions embedded on the end of their handles.


Prices for the table tennis set vary from country to country, but consumers can expect to shell out more in China, where a set costs 18,300 RMB (about 2,600 USD). In the U.S., a set will set you back by 2,280 USD or 2,400 USD, depending on its color.

The release of the luxury table tennis set has prompted much discussion in China, where the sport was once used as a tool for diplomacy. In fact, ping-pong is so popular in China that it is known as guo qiu or ‘national ball game.’


louis vuitton table tennis ping pong racket set

A Louis Vuitton table tennis set, complete with covers for both balls and paddles. Image via Weibo


Although the sport is well-loved in China, many Chinese netizens are (entirely understandably) questioning the point of having a luxury table tennis set.


“It’s an ugly and expensive piece of wood. Luxury consumers don’t know how to play table tennis, and real players wouldn’t buy these. So who would buy this product?” critiqued one Weibo user.


Some ping-pong enthusiasts have pointed out that the equipment is “not up to professional standards.” Meanwhile, others have jokingly inquired whether the posh set will help them win tournaments or become Olympic champions.


The paddles are not the first luxury product to have sparked derision among Chinese netizens. Earlier this month, social media users deemed Balenciaga’s ‘Trash Pouch’ a rip-off.


Cover image via Louis Vuitton China