Declining Marriage Rate Threatens China’s Traditional Wedding Candy Stores

In China, wedding candy is an essential part of marriage celebrations. Newlyweds meticulously package a variety of candies, ensuring that they are distributed in an even number for good luck. Candy names are also carefully chosen to be homophones with expressions of good luck and good fortune. The sweetness of the candy is meant to signify the happiness and success of a marriage.


However, demand for wedding candy has declined sharply due to China’s falling marriage rate. Between 2013 and 2022, the number of marriages in China dropped from 10 million couples to below 7 million. Although 2023 saw a slight increase, the pause in wedding celebrations during the COVID-19 pandemic caused a significant setback to the wedding candy industry.


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Candy shops on Zigu Street, Nanchang, Jiangxi. Photo via Sohu.


This downturn is evident in traditional wedding candy shops. Zigu Street in Nanchang, known as Wedding Candy Street, saw a boom in the 1980s. Thanks in part to its location next to Wanshou Palace, a Daoist temple, the street hosted more than 20 candy shops. Xu Guoling has run a store there for over 20 years. During peak times, she could earn up to 80,000 RMB a day. These days, revenue has gone down, and only 8 candy shops remain on the street.


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Posts on Xiaohongshu sharing suggestions on how to reduce wedding candy costs.


Some netizens argue that poor sales of wedding candy may be best understood not only in terms of the number of marriage registrations, but also declining interest in organizing large wedding banquets. Regardless, the struggle of the offline wedding candy economy is a nationwide issue. Healthy eating trends mean that candy is no longer everyone’s first choice for wedding favors, and when young people do buy wedding candy, they prefer to buy affordable sets online. This ongoing shift highlights the challenges faced by traditional wedding candy businesses in adapting to changing consumer preferences and societal trends.


Banner image via Xinhua Net.

How Chinese Streetwear Has Risen Alongside Chinese Hip Hop

In the summer of 2020, Hong Kong-born singer and rapper Jackson Wang announced the launch of his streetwear brand, Team Wang, with an Instagram post. Featuring everything from athleisure wear to accessories, the debut collection, “The Original 1,” was united by a minimalist black-and-white design aesthetic and quickly became an internet sensation. The Team Wang logo was prominently displayed on all merchandise, creating a buzz among Wang’s millions of fans, who eagerly dreamed of owning a piece. However, upon release, the items sold out immediately; high demand made it nearly impossible to get anything.


When Dayuan Wang, a Shanghai hip hop fan who works in real estate, finally received his first piece from Team Wang in 2023 — a black silk shirt dotted with Team Wang logos — he was immersed in euphoric bliss. The item had sold out on Taobao as soon as it was released. On WeChat, he spotted someone selling it in a group chat for Shanghai-based Chinese hip hop lovers. He quickly added the seller and transferred the money to secure the shirt.


Jackson Wang

Jackson Wang. Image via Depositphotos.


“Jackson Wang is so cool. Wearing his brand means you have good taste in fashion. This is not an average streetwear brand,” the 29-year-old said with pride.


Nowadays, being an artist is simply not enough. In an age where celebrities dominate both pop culture and fashion through their own brands, Chinese rappers are getting in on the action. As Chinese hip hop (also sometimes known as C-rap) has emerged as a global phenomenon, Chinese hip hop artists have joined the lineup by launching streetwear brands. Fans have shifted their allegiances from established streetwear names like Stüssy or Supreme to supporting Chinese rapper-owned brands like Team Wang, CLOT, and AFGK.


Rap music, born in the Bronx, New York City during the 1970s, seemed an unlikely fit for Chinese culture at first. In the early 2000s, hip hop began to make its mark on the Chinese mainland, whether through poppy artists from Hong Kong or Taiwan, like MC HotDog, or subversive, more underground acts like Beijing’s IN3 (阴三儿). But there was a lack of genuine homegrown artists with chart appeal. Things began to shift about half a decade ago, when new artists like Chengdu’s Higher Brothers, known for their anthem “Made in China,” began to emerge.


Team Wang Original 1

Team Wang’s The Original 1 collection. Image via Team Wang.


Nevertheless, Chinese rap was an elusive, underground genre with a niche fan base until the debut of The Rap of China, a rap competition show created by iQiyi, in 2017. The show went viral after one of the judges, Kris Wu (now disgraced and convicted of rape) asked contestants, “Do you have freestyle?” This phrase soon became a meme, entertaining a young audience and drawing attention to Chinese hip hop performances.


Since then, the show has become a cultural phenomenon, catapulting the genre to the spotlight. The show’s premiere episode in 2017 attracted more than 100 million views within the first four hours of release, and the first season reportedly amassed over 2.5 billion views in total.


The show’s mass success turned contestants like PG One, Tizzy T, Gai, and Lexie Liu into big names, crossing over into the pop mainstream. In 2017, right after Jackson Wang released his single “Papillon,” he collaborated with Gai on stage as part of the contest. That was when Jackson first grabbed Dayuan’s attention.


“I tuned in to the show every week. I didn’t know about Chinese hip hop as a genre before the show came out,” Dayuan explained.


With momentum building around The Rap of China, Asian artists also found themselves a foothold in the Western music industry, thanks in part to the advocacy of labels like 88rising. Established in 2015, with over 7 million monthly listeners on Spotify, 88rising has propelled Asian and Asian American artists like NIKI, Joji, and Rich Brian into the global spotlight. Since 2018, 88rising has also organized the Head in the Clouds music festival, an Asian version of Coachella that features Asian musical talents.


In 2016, a year before the surge in popularity of Chinese hip hop sparked by The Rap of China, Higher Brothers joined 88rising. Their track “Made in China” became a viral sensation, later remixed by DJ Snake and played at music festivals around the world. Following Higher Brothers, more Chinese artists, including Jackson Wang, Lexie Liu, and Xin Liu, have joined the label.


Despite this progress, hip hop fashion and streetwear culture have yet to go completely mainstream in China. However, the Chinese hip hop is definitely growing both at home and abroad. And as Chinese rappers’ music gains recognition, so do their wardrobes.


Many Chinese streetwear brands showcase an intriguing cross-cultural identity. On the one hand, Chinese rappers represent a sense of unconventionality and rebellion, breaking with tradition to inspire Chinese youth. At the same time, their streetwear lines often integrate Chinese and Asian elements in their designs — think dragons, or traditional Chinese clothing — to set themselves apart from Western streetwear. This offers a taste of guochao (also known as China chic), a wider fashion trend emphasizing Chinese culture and aesthetics.


CLOT Pronounce

Looks from CLOT’s SS2024 collaboration with Pronounce. Image via Juice Store.


Guochao is getting more popular in recent years. I love my Team Wang shirt because of the new school Chinese elements in the design, and buying Team Wang is supporting guochao,” Dayuan said.


Jackson Wang is not the first Chinese hip-hop artist to have channeled his creativity through a clothing line. Back in 2003, Edison Chen founded the aforementioned CLOT (Cheating Lots of Teenagers), a pioneering streetwear brand aiming at bridging the gap between Eastern and Western cultures. Over the years, its high-profile collaborations with iconic labels such as Nike, Converse, and A Bathing Ape have made it a globally recognized brand. The brand’s latest collaboration with Pronounce even featured an avant-garde twist on a Mao suit.


In the aftermath of The Rap of China, more Chinese rappers have launched their clothing lines. Among them are AFGK (A Few Good Kids) by Masiwei of Higher Brothers, MEDM (Mr. Enjoy Da Money) by Knowknow, Couple Hunnid by Xie Di, P.UK by Bridge, SFNT by Tizzy T, and more.


Xiaohongshu list of Chinese rapper brands

A Xiaohongshu user’s handy list of Chinese rappers’ streetwear brands.


The growth of these rapper-owned brands coincides with the ongoing development of China’s robust e-commerce market. According to eMarketer, China’s online retail transactions involved more than 710 million digital buyers in 2020 and reached $2.29 trillion USD. Transactions are forecasted to reach $3.56 trillion by 2024 USD.


For the most part available on Taobao, China’s biggest e-commerce platform, these brands rep China chic on the market and have generated a mass following. Since its launch in 2018, AFGK has accumulated 1.98 million followers on Taobao. The 27-year-old Mark Zhang is one of them. After the rise of Chinese hip hop in 2017, Zhang, who introduced himself as a diehard hip-hop fan, expanded his taste from Drake to Chinese rappers like Masiwei, who caught his ear on the Higher Brothers’ 2017 album Black Cab.


“Chinese rappers often have to avoid being too critical or touching upon gray areas, making it feel like they’re dancing with chains. But with Masiwei, I don’t sense those constraints in his music,” Zhang said. “He released a fantastic mixtape in 2023, so I supported him by buying my first piece from his brand AFGK on Taobao. The price was reasonable, so why not?”


Banner image by Haedi Yue.

Singapore’s Own Punk Rock Fashion Label, Youths in Balaclava

Youths in Balaclava (YIB) is a Singaporean fashion brand that has embodied rock and youth culture in its many amorphous forms since its official start in 2018. The self proclaimed band of outsiders met during their teenage years as classmates or friends of friends. In the center of this chaotic crew is Taufiq Iskandar, an instigator of sorts bringing disparate individuals and elements together through friendship, music, and culture.


Speaking to Taufiq, I wanted to uncover the early days of YIB. In less than a decade, the group has achieved what many designers can only dream of, and more; catching the eye of Dover Street Market’s Adrian Joffe, getting stocked worldwide, having their seasonal showroom in Paris, and designing collaborations with Converse and G-Shock. Most recently, the brand has also entered celebrity wardrobe rotations, as seen on the likes of Puerto Rican singer Ozuna, singer-rapper Zico, and K-pop groups like ITZY and NewJeans.


The laundry list goes on. Better to hear the backstory from the horse’s mouth. Taufiq takes a video call with me having confirmed a timing at the last minute, the call screen on Google Meets revealing a curly haired, bandana-wearing 27-year-old in an underlit storeroom located somewhere in Jalan Pemimpin, an area that Singaporean designers and creatives have been moving their studios to in recent years.

The following text has been edited for brevity and flow:


I founded the brand alongside the friends that I made in Gan Eng Seng Secondary School. There’s also my brother, like my real blood brother, Kasyfi. It has been almost 10 years. We’ve learned how to make clothes all the way to presenting it at Paris Fashion Week. And finally now we are at a different stage of life. Some of them want to settle down, they want to buy a house. So they are taking the back seat to find more income to support themselves although they still have part ownership of the brand. Right now only me and my brother are active at YIB.


To answer your first question, which is to describe YIB in three words, off the top of my head: enigmatic, chaotic, and driven.


When I first started, I was making clothes for our clique for fun. I met Spencer as he was my assigned seat partner. Yi Chen and Michael, I met a year later. At first they didn’t care about fashion. I remember I would be like “Oh my god, you know these shoes. Check out these shoes. Have you seen this shirt? Check out this shirt.” Zach was my senior. I got to know him as he helped me get a part time job at Topshop and through that we got much closer.


Spencer was really into this computer game called Cyber Attack and he also had an interest in music. At that point, I was listening to rock like Jimi Hendrix, Rolling Stones, and Guns N’ Roses and all this. I’ve always been very fascinated with what they were wearing as well. And I think this was what sparked my interest in fashion— through the culture it’s surrounded by.


Back then our fashion world was what we could find at Haji Lane. I started designing clothes that we would wear together, for us to go out or for their birthdays. They were all parody shirts. I made a Raf Simmons inspired graphic shirt for my friend. And then for Zach, I did like this Versace logo where it says Zach-A-C-E, you know, and his face is there. I thought it was quite funny. That was like the formative years for us.

Our first line of t-shirts came about because we heard from my relative who heard from his friend, of this city in Indonesia which had a whole setup for screen printing run by a whole community of artists. We all took a six- hour long bus ride together to this place. Eventually, we manufactured our first line of YIB t-shirts. From the profit of selling the T-shirts we started experimenting with different things. When people liked them and it started selling, we got more excited.


I was learning more about other designers. My first designer, and still, my hero today is Margiela. You know, I took his spirit of being anonymous, that’s how the name Youths in Balaclava came about. It’s not about us, it’s about the work that we produce. So that became the DNA.


Having no prior knowledge of making clothes, we learned through trial and error. With the money from the t-shirt sales, we went to buy fabrics and did our own measurements and even hand distressed the flannels ourselves. Because of Margiela, we even tried using wall paint on our garments. That’s how we did things.


The third collection was massive. It started because I remember writing to fashion companies for access to their fashion shows, or like Singapore Fashion Week, but kept getting rejected. So we had this vendetta and resolution of “I’m going to do my own fashion show.” We collaborated with the fine art collective called soft/WALL/studs for our DIY runway. They had a rooftop which we used as our location. Our chairs were loaned from the coffee shop uncle. I remember we always had beef with him, but on that day itself, we begged him to lend us his chairs for $50 and he actually came through.

I was into grunge music at the time, the concept of the collection was inspired from how Kurt Cobain designed his Jag-Stang, which is a mix of a Jaguar Fender and the Fender Mustang. He would take a Polaroid of each guitar and he would cut it out and dissect the images, and then he would paste it in a collage. That’s what I envisioned the garments to be. So we used a lot of materials from what the Seattle scene would wear — flannels, Chicago shorts, Grandma shirts, ripped jeans and all of that — and styled it ourselves. We didn’t have much money so we took whatever fabric we already had and built and deconstructed a collection out of hand-me-downs.


Taufiq Rahman, the photographer, helped us scout the models for that show. He’s also the one who initially took all our photos. He had a really important aesthetic influence in the founding years of YIB.


That was the last thing we did before we decided to take a break before entering polytechnic and just started to hang out for fun. We didn’t even think about starting a brand. We were photographed by Ryan O’Toole Collett as a crew whilst we were showing him around Singapore back when Dover Street Market was going to be opened in Singapore. We got discovered by Adrian Joffe through a roll of film that Collett had handed in for a project and the rest everyone kinda knows.


I mean, I don’t want to talk about our legacy as it’s going to sound arrogant. We have to date nine seasons in Paris. We did the showrooms, then finally last year we had a runway schedule. I feel like I’ve already had all my wishes. But I still have this desire. You know how each city has its own distinct style, like London is experimental, Paris has houses like Dior, I want YIB to be the fashion aesthetic for Singapore.

In recent years, I’ve also helped some local punk bands with their styling and image. In the past me and the YIB guys would go to these hardcore punk shows — many of the bands like Fuse, Hollow Thread, Fader have now disbanded or changed their sound — we were kinda judged because of the way we dressed. But I think now, with the success of YIB and other bands who are more stylish, local musicians are seeing how fashion can help them communicate their music as well.


I don’t think Singapore’s fashion scene needs to change. I see a lot of small brands and younger creatives starting their own brands. They sometimes come to me to ask for advice but I think what they’re doing now is amazing and they just need to keep going. Having YIB being a known brand has shown others that it’s possible to run a fashion label even in a city like Singapore.


Banner image by Haedi Yue.

Luxurious Wedding Cements Chinese Fashion Dynasty Partnership

In a scene resembling a European royal wedding or something out of a soap opera, Ding Jiamin, daughter of the founder of Xtep (特步 Tebu), recently married Zhou Liyuan, son of the founder of Septwolves (七匹狼 Qipilang). The wedding earlier this month purportedly cost at least a few million RMB, while the betrothal price (a tradition where the bridegroom’s family offers a monetary gift to the parents of the bride) was claimed to be as high as 1.8 billion RMB.


Established in 2001, Xtep specializes in sports footwear, but has been expanding into the broader field of sportswear. Xtep made big waves internationally at the end of last year when it bought out its China joint venture with Wolverine World Wide, absorbing a major share of Saucony Asia. Though the brand recently divested its shares in K-Swiss and Palladium, it continues to sell merchandise for outdoor brand Merrell in China. Ding Jiamin currently works in a managerial role at Xtep.


Septwolves is a fashion brand known for its idiosyncratic jackets. The brand is also raised international eyebrows back in 2018 when it purchased Karl Lagerfeld’s holdings in China. Zhou Liyuan manages Karl Lagerfeld’s business operations in China, as well as co-managing the board of Septwolves.


The union is the latest in a series of marriage alliances between five Fujianese business families, who are behind Xtep, Septwolves, Anta (owner of the very-popular-in-China brands Arc’teryx and Salomon), bathroom and kitchen fitting brand Jomoo, and tea company Bama. The collected net worth of the five families would amount to more than 60 billion RMB (roughly 8.2 billion USD).


Quanzhou Family Chart

If you ever needed a chart of marriage connections between Quanzhou’s mega-rich, here you go. Image via Jingjidaoli.


The business impact of Ding and Zhou’s nuptials remain to the seen, but it’s certain that Xtep and Septwolves will continue to have a major impact on fashion and pop culture in China. Besides extensive business and political connections, the families also have a wide social network of celebrity friends: Hong Kong actor Nicolas Tse is a long term Xtep brand ambassador, while star Dilraba Dilmurat has also endorsed the brand and co-hosted events with Ding.


Banner image via Fenghuang Weekly.

Video Creator Turns “The Three-Body Problem” Sequel “The Dark Forest” into Viral CGI Animation

Video creator “ “刘师兄_liujun” has gone viral on Bilibili for remaking beloved Chinese sci-fi novel The Dark Forest, sequel to The Three-Body Problem, into a CGI animation series. The whole series has so far received over 15 million views. The newest episode, which was uploaded on June 23rd, has received more than 1.2 million views alone. On June 25th, the series was ranked as the no. 2 trending video on Bilibili.


The Dark Forest is part of critically acclaimed Chinese novelist Liu Cixin’s trilogy “Remembrance of Earth’s Past,” sometimes better known by the name of its first installation, The Three-Body Problem.

The trilogy has attracted significant attention and a large audience within China since the publication of the first book back in 2006. The novels have also gained high profile Western fans such as Barack Obama and Mark Zuckerberg, and their profile has only risen since Netflix released a live action adaptation earlier this year.



This newly released animated series is noted for its life-like 3D models and use of the original soundtrack from the audiobook of the novel. However, what triggered shock waves among viewers and the animation industry is that the series cost nothing to make. As indicated in the title of each video, the entire production has no budget and is created by a single amateur animator without any external financial support. Traditionally, the animated film industry has been known for the significant investments required, and the sheer amount of time and dedication that teams of animators must put in to complete a project. This creation, therefore, challenges the traditional mode of animation production, raising questions about the future trajectory of the industry for both regular viewers and professional animators. The series also stands in clear contrast to Netflix’s television show of the trilogy, which cost more than 144 million RMB (20 million USD) to make.


Banner image via Bilibili.

Manner Coffee Sees Two Customer-Barista Altercations in One Day

Rapidly-expanding Chinese budget coffee chain Manner Coffee has faced criticism recently due to two altercations between staff and customers, which both occurred on June 17th. In the incident that has received the most attention, which occurred at their location on Meihua Road in Shanghai, a customer began filming a barista due to long wait times, causing the barista to grab their phone. On same day, at another Manner café in Shanghai, this time at 716 Weihai Road, a customer threatened to complain about the staff, prompting a barista to angrily throw coffee grounds at them and shout, “Go ahead, complain!”


Following the incidents, Manner Coffee responded by firing the barista involved in the coffee grounds incident and settling with the other customer. They pledged to improve store management. However, issues such as long wait times for coffee persist, attributed to poor shift planning and inadequate staffing.


Weihai

Security camera footage of the Weihai Road incident.


Manner Coffee does not allocate time for preparation before opening, forcing morning shift employees to start commuting on the first subway train every day. Additionally, Manner allocates staff based on location performance: locations that earn less than 5,000 RMB per day are only assigned one employee. With an average price of 15 RMB per cup of coffee at Manner, to reach this threshold a barista would need to make more than 333 cups of coffee in a day. That’s a lot of coffee to make while also handling cashier duties and cleaning, not to mention that it would leave scant time for breaks.


Since receiving its first round of venture capital funding in 2018, Manner has expanded at a breakneck pace — and keeping staffing costs low is one way it has maintained its prices. The two incidents in June weren’t the first time Manner staff and customers have clashed: another altercation took place in Shanghai’s Pudong New District in May, leading Manner to apologize on Weibo.


As news spread about these incidents, consumers expressed their disappointment online. Manner Coffee used to embody an affordable luxury, offering a relaxed moment of escape for busy urban office workers. But evidently the hidden cost is the enormous pressure placed on front line baristas. It remains to be seen what Manner may to do to return to its original philosophy, “Make Coffee Part of Your Life.”


Banner image via Manner Coffee , showing the company’s first café, opened in 2015 on Nanyang Road, Shanghai.