Bonjour, Shenzhen! A French Entrepreneur’s Success Story in China

The Greater Bay Area is arguably one of China’s top expat destinations these days, but in entrepreneur Laurent Le Pen’s case, it has become his permanent home of over 16 years. Today, the Frenchman runs Omate, a smart wearable company, and Oclean, a smart toothbrush brand.


Le Pen’s foray into the electronics industry began in France, where he designed mobile phones for a spin-off of Philips Mobile. Around two years into his job, the company offered Le Pen a life-changing opportunity to move to Shenzhen — right in the heart of the supply chain.


“I had to tell my, you know, friends and family [that] I was moving to a city near Hong Kong, because at that time, Shenzhen was not that popular, and not famous as it is today,” the exec said.


Laurent Le Pen in Shenzhen in December 2007

Image courtesy Laurent Le Pen.


Le Pen was only 25 years old when he relocated in late 2007. Initial cultural challenges aside, the timing couldn’t be better. It was the year of Apple’s very first iPhone, so Le Pen was able to observe the supply chain’s rapid pace of technological development.


Fast forward to 2012, Le Pen’s team at smartphone manufacturer, Umeox, had a eureka moment. By connecting the iPod nano’s square-shaped touchscreens to their smartphone circuit boards, the engineers realized that they had all the necessary ingredients to build an Android 3G smartwatch. This marked the beginning of the Omate brand. In the following year, Le Pen took to crowdfunding platform Kickstarter to launch the Omate TrueSmart, and the campaign successfully raised 1 million USD from around 4,400 backers.


Samsung’s first smartwatch didn’t launch until October 2013, and the first Apple Watch arrived much later — in April 2015. Since then, Omate has pivoted to more focused segments — smartwatches for kids, seniors, and lone workers. “That’s what we do today: we design wearables for people who need protection,” the exec added. His company also created a “wearable-as-a-service” business catered to insurance, telecare, and security companies, which in turn provide Omate wearables and related services to clients.


Omate smartwatches and smart rings


Not one to rest on his laurels, Le Pen saw another opportunity in the wearables market: smart rings. In late 2023, Omate teamed up with Belgian brand Ice-Watch to launch the Ice Ring. This tiny 199 EUR device is capable of tracking heart rate, blood oxygen level, various workouts, and sleep quality. For Le Pen, entering this brand new category is very much like his smartwatch journey all over again, but he believes the smart ring has its merits.


“Many people cannot sleep with their watch [on], many people also don’t want to sleep with their smartwatch [on],” Le Pen explained. “So it’s an amazing device for sleep monitoring and for all your health, you know, biometrics tracking.”


Best of all, the Ice Ring is 100 EUR cheaper than the main competition, the Oura Ring. Not to mention that no subscription is necessary.


More recently, at BEYOND Expo 2024, Le Pen unveiled the Omate Crystal, which is basically a transparent version of the Ice Ring. This is all thanks to the new scratch-resistant sapphire casing — an impressive feat given the production complexity. Meanwhile, Samsung’s Galaxy Ring is still stuck in limbo.


Oclean smart toothbrushes


In addition to Omate, Le Pen has also ventured into the oral care market by way of Oclean since late 2016. If you haven’t come across this smart toothbrush brand, there’s a small chance that you may have seen its sonic toothbrushes branded by Xiaomi. Regardless, the flagship models come with a small display to track your brushing progress — you can see which regions you may have missed. These toothbrushes also have a companion app for record keeping, tutorials, and personalization.


Le Pen owes his success to the nature of Shenzhen’s tech hub, where his suppliers are all no more than 100 km away. With a quick WeChat message, they can meet at his office within an hour to fix any production issue.


“The speed to design and speed to market, and from design to engineering, you can go much faster than anywhere else in the world,” Le Pen praised the city. “So for me, Shenzhen is really like the capital of the IoT [Internet of Things]. And, you know, in terms of design and engineering, it’s really the place to be.”


Laurent Le Pen

Image courtesy Laurent Le Pen.


Naturally, Le Pen had to adapt to the way of life in Shenzhen, but even in the early days, his focus on business helped him fit in well. In fact, the entrepreneur assured us that he’s been able to replicate more of the French lifestyle by basing himself in Zhuhai — a city not far from Macau, Hong Kong, and Shenzhen — with his wife and two kids. Considering that Le Pen finally received his foreign permanent resident ID card last year, we’ll take his word for it.


“15 years ago, it was more of a challenge,” Le Pen admitted. “Shenzhen was still, you know, lacking many things. But today, it’s a very international city, so I can even find some French restaurants. And it’s also so close to Hong Kong.”


Le Pen’s journey from France to China serves as an inspiring example of how adaptability and being open-minded can lead to innovative breakthroughs. By leveraging the technological prowess of Shenzhen and pivoting to the right niche when needed, this Frenchman will likely continue to surprise the big players with his creations.


All images by Richard Lai unless otherwise noted.

5 Insights into Asian and Pacific Islander Presence in Hollywood

Asian and Pacific Islander (API) presence is growing in Hollywood, both on the big screen and in TV series, and spanning various on- and off-screen roles. However, despite this growing visibility, there’s still untapped potential. According to new research conducted by McKinsey & Company in collaboration with Gold House, over two-thirds of API consumers in the United States express dissatisfaction with the portrayal and authenticity of their identities in media. This deficiency presents an opportunity not only for media makers to enhance their work, but also to reap greater financial rewards. Here are five key facts regarding the current state of API representation in Hollywood, as highlighted in McKinsey’s report:

1. Asian Americans earn more but consume less than other Americans

McKinsey Chart

Data from McKinsey’s 2024 report.


Based on the Consumer Expenditure Survey from US Bureau of Labour in 2022, Asian Americans earn approximately 30% more annually than their non-Asian counterparts, but spend only 70% of their income, compared to 78% and 81% for White and Black consumers, respectively. However, their expenditure on media content remains disproportionately low, accounting for only 0.4% of their income, compared to 0.9% for White and Black consumers.

2. The majority of APIs feel that their race and ethnicity is not authentically portrayed in US-produced film and TV

Every All At Once

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022). Image via A24.


In McKinsey’s survey of API entertainment leaders, over 70% of the respondents believed that their race and ethnicity is not authentically represented in American media. However, box office receipts indicate that there is an appetite for US-produced API content — US-produced films with API leads generated 7.8% of total box office in the U.S. between 2018 and 2022. With more authentic representation, these box office numbers could increase.

3. API content faces genre challenges

Beef

Beef (2023). Image via Netflix.


Although the number of films with API leads is growing, the proportion of films telling race-agnostic stories (films that do not have a storyline specific to the API experience, but with API actors in roles that can generally be played by anyone) always surpasses that of race-specific ones from 2018 to 2022. This pattern is not common in underrepresented racial groups, Films with Black leads were for instance twice as likely to be race-specific than race-agnostic. The relatively lower rate has provided fewer opportunities for API stories and experiences to be told. Furthermore, 47% of API films belong to the action and adventure genre, with only a few popular exceptions like Everything Everywhere All At Once and Past Lives. The homogenized nature of this genre further limits the diversity of API stories presented in the public.

4. Internal imbalance exists in API subgroups

Aquaman

Jason Momoa in Aquaman (2018). Image via Warner Bros.


One Pasifika (Pacific Islander) entertainment executive pointed out that PIs are often neglected when talking about API content. For example, between 2018 and 2022, East Asian actors dominated 50% of the leading roles, while Pasifika actors had minimal representation, and were often cast in stereotypical roles. Gender representation is also skewed in all API subgroups, with male actors dominating the scene.


Asian Women Behind the Scenes

API off-screen talent: left to right, Jenny Han, Chloé Zhao, and Sandra Oh. Image via Parade.

5. The support between off-screen talent and on-screen stars forms a mutually beneficial cycle

The presence of off-screen API talent, such as directors, writers, producers, and showrunners, correlates positively with higher on-screen API representation. The pattern is significant in US-produced films. Less than 6% of movies lacking API talent in significant off-screen positions featured an API lead. When an API professional holds an off-screen role, this figure rises to 37 percent.


To sum up, increased API representation in US media has the potential to foster diversity, as well as lead to substantial financial gain — if API consumers spent as much of their income on film and television as their White counterparts, they would be spending an estimated $4 billion dollars. Potential ideas that could help the industry move in this direction include providing financial support for both on and off-screen talent, and adopting expanded criteria for project evaluation. Investing in US API content creation could form a positive feedback cycle, in which successful API entertainment professionals could attract investors to future API projects.


Banner image by Haedi Yue.






Makers of Popular Short Video Drama Face Backlash for Overworking Staff

Huangyewenhua (荒野文化), the Wuhan-based company behind the trending short video series Reincarnated as a Maid of a Rich CEO (重生之我在霸总短剧里当保姆, Chóngshēng zhī wǒ zài bàzǒng duǎnjù lǐ dāng bǎomǔ), has recently received a tremendous backlash from viewers after being accused of underpaying and overworking its employees, including extras and interns on its production and social media teams. The series was released earlier this year in March, and it quickly rose to popularity, garnering tens of millions of views on Bilibili, Douyin, and other streaming platforms.


The story follows the life of “Maid Wang” (王妈, Wang Ma) who works for a young, wealthy CEO. With low pay and too many chores, “Maid Wang” complains about her working conditions in an oftentimes comedic manner. The show has resonated with young audiences, partly because of its farce-like plot, and partly because viewers identify with “Maid Wang,” seeing themselves as similarly exploited by large corporations, personified by the CEO.


Reborn Maid CEO

Image via The Paper.


So it is darkly ironic that the makers of the series have themselves engaged in the same practices they criticize on screen. The dismay of the show’s former fans was only heightened when it was revealed that the influencer who plays “Maid Wang,” Wang Zhixing, is actually a millionaire in real life.


The case of Huangyewenhua raises deeper questions about unfair workplace treatment, and how related issues may be presented in the media in a manner that leads to positive change. Reincarnated as a Maid of a Rich CEO” stings in particular because it milks public sympathy for exploited workers to garner views, all while engaging in the same labor practices.


Banner image via QikeXingxing.

From Sweden to China: How Nothing’s Carl Pei Entered the Tech Industry

In the ever-evolving smartphone market, few names have been as disruptive as OnePlus and Nothing. Central to the narrative of both these brands is Carl Pei, a Swedish-Chinese college dropout who somehow found his way into the tech industry.

Pei was born in Beijing in September 1989. At the age of four, he moved to the US and then Sweden, but over time, he became increasingly fascinated by the rapid developments occurring back in China.

“After high school, to my parents’ dismay, I went for a year to China just to see what was going on,” the rebellious Pei said. “I was exporting stuff from China back then, and my parents called me to go back to Sweden for uni, so I went reluctantly.”

Still, Pei kept tabs on the Chinese market. He soon spotted a then-popular Chinese mobile brand called Meizu and became a fan — so much so that he ran an online forum to cater to its international fanbase. Meizu eventually recruited him to help out with its international rollout in 2011, and he would also drop out of the Stockholm School of Economics that same year.

OnePlus 5 launch event in New York
Image via OnePlus.

In 2012, Pei jumped ship to another Chinese mobile brand, OPPO, which would eventually lead to the formation of a sister brand, OnePlus. During this stint, Pei became the international face of OnePlus, and his role was instrumental in building the brand’s loyal community and reputation for innovation. But over time, Pei reached the ceiling and was ready to try something new.

“This was back in 2020 and I had been doing OnePlus for about seven years, and I felt it was going well and I was learning a lot,” Pei recalled. “But somehow, we were just integrating technology, you know, taking mature technology from suppliers and packaging it into something consumers like. So I was thinking, ‘Is this the only thing that I’m going to do in my entire life?’”

Pei left OnePlus in October 2020. Three months later, he unveiled Nothing Technology, a startup with a mission “to remove barriers between people and technology.” Nothing operates out of London for the creative talent, as well as Shenzhen for the hardware talent, and Taipei for the software talent.

 

Nothing Ear (2024) on top of a Nothing Phone (2).
Image via Nothing.

Nothing’s first product was the Ear (1) wireless earbuds, which caught the market by surprise with its unique transparent design and competitive price. In the following year, the company launched its first smartphone, the Nothing Phone (1), with a similar design language complemented by customizable LED light patterns on the back.

Nothing has since released two more smartphones and a few more wireless earbuds, with the entire product line having received updates to integrate ChatGPT for conversational AI.

“I use it for brainstorming; I ask it questions and then I will go back and forth until I have some clarity on the issue,” Pei said about ChatGPT. “It’s more like a thinking partner. But I think, you know, there’s also other generative AI services that really help us be more creative as well. Like there’s now music generation, image generation, and I’m sure there’s more to come.”

Nothing Technology at BEYOND Expo 2024.

Not only does Pei believe that AI is going to change the world in unimaginable ways, but he also sees it as an opportunity to catch up with or even overtake the big brands.

“When we were younger, you know, Nokia and BlackBerry were huge companies that were untouchable, but then the mobile internet age came and they kind of shuffled away,” Pei said. “So now you have companies like Apple and Samsung who look huge and untouchable. But my belief is that in the next wave that’s coming, they might also be shuffled away.

“So for us, it’s a huge opportunity to leverage the changes in technology to really come out ahead. That’s what I’m thinking about every day.”

Carl Pei’s journey from Meizu to OnePlus and now Nothing highlights his role as a pioneering force in the tech industry. Even though it’s still early days for Nothing, there’s no doubt that Pei’s perseverance inspires a new generation of entrepreneurs and tech enthusiasts.

All images by Richard Lai unless otherwise noted.

Chinese Skate Culture, Music, Streetwear, and More Through the Lens of Jeff Yiu

If you’ve been to an experimental music gig, DJ night, gallery opening, or skate spot in Beijing over the past decade, you may well have bumped into Jeff Yiu. And even if you’ve just been following subcultural goings-on in China’s capital remotely, there’s a good chance you’ve seen his photography, which documents everything from noise performances to collections from emerging fashion designers. In both his personal work and commissions for brands including Adidas Originals, FFIXXED STUDIOS, Guerrilla Group, Lane Crawford, and more, the Hong Kong-born, Sydney-raised, Beijing-based photographer captures scenes and communities around China on camera.


Since the pandemic, Yiu has rediscovered skateboarding, a passion from his childhood, connecting him with the crews steadily building skate and streetwear culture in China. RADII recently caught up with Yiu to chat about his creative journey, the interplay between fashion and subcultures, and designers to keep an eye out for. We’re also proud to share a selection of his work.


Jeff Yiu Portrait

Portrait of Jeff Yiu by Nico deRogue.


Simon Frank: Despite knowing you for a while, I realized I’m not clear on your “Beijing timeline” — when did you move to Beijing? What brought you there?


Jeff Yiu: I moved to Beijing at late 2012, I had just finished my two year work visa stint in London as a photographer’s assistant, my grandpa was having some health issues during that time and it prompted me to want to be closer to my grandma in Hong Kong, so moving to China was my way of doing that.


I had never thought of living in China before but it felt like a new adventure and it would be a completely different direction for me, not knowing anything or speak Mandarin at all. It was literally a brand new path forward. I was probably too naive at the time but I am glad I made the leap and got myself over to enjoy the friendships and experiences I have lived over the years.


Jeff Yiu Bicycle


Simon: You’ve mentioned skate culture impacted you a lot growing up in Sydney — how did it influence you creatively or otherwise?


Jeff: Actually I played soccer when I was really little in HK and when I moved to Sydney during primary school, that was how I made friends with the kids in my new school through playing and I joined a weekend club as well, so I was really into it. It was around 7th grade that I stumbled across a toy board from Target and found some kids in my neighbourhood who also were skateboarding, which made me want to try and get a more serious board as well. Then throughout high school I always had friends who skated and played music so it always brought me a lot of new cultural capital to dabble with, especially music from videos we were watching and the clothes that were popular at the time, etc.


It still gives me the same kind of feeling now, the sense of familiarity, watching skate videos, seeing what music choices certain filmmakers and skaters like to use and what kind of visual language they are playing with. On a physical level, for me, just the act of pushing around through streets and seeing what the landscape looks like that could be skate-able is always a fun exercise, especially when visiting a new country or a city that I have never visited before. I always notice the sound of wheels and slapping sounds from boards hitting the pavement, it is like an urban siren call of sorts.


Jeff Yiu Shanghai skateboard


Simon: Maybe related to the previous question, how did you pick up a camera?


Jeff: I took a six month break after my university graduation, I had saved up some money doing an internship for a tech software company in their marketing department and I wanted to travel around Western Europe on my own. My mom had lent me her Canon IXUS at the time to take some photos from my travels.


I had met a photographer while I was in a Berlin hostel. We just chatted about our travel routes and I showed him some of my photos from my travels. He encouraged me to learn more about making photos and he taught me some basic manual controls on his Hasselblad 503. He had a Polaroid back, so he could show me how those manual controls can change the image with lighting and he told me I could do that on the IXUS too. So that’s how I was introduced to photography beyond the point and shoot ability. I got back to Sydney shortly after and bought myself a Canon 400D and just started to shoot my friends who were playing in bands and that was how I started to figure out what appealed to me visually. Initially I just wanted to document the atmosphere of their shows, which led me to many different experiences down the road.


Jeff Yiu Fruitygroup


Simon: You mentioned to me that in Beijing you first connected more with music and art rather than the skate scene. What drew you to start going to places like XP and documenting the scene?


Jeff: Like I said, I had no idea what was actually happening in Beijing before I arrived. I just realized that with a language barrier and the scale of the city being so vast, I really couldn’t say how I would connect with anyone or anything that I might be interested in before I got there physically. I tried to find some information on Google about what kind of bands were in Beijing, I think I came across something about D22 but then realized that it was already closed when I arrived, then somehow stumbled across XP and I just decided to go and see what that was.


I still remember first going there, not knowing anyone, I met Michael Cupoli (who was playing in Cloud Choir), Brad Seippel (artistically known as thruoutin), Michelle Proskell (Muted Rainbow) and Dee who now runs his own music bar venue in Wanning, Hainan. They were all doing an improvised set and it was so fun. That’s what drew me back to XP, because every time I would see some other random act and get to know some other bands. That’s how I slowly got into the indie experimental scene in Beijing, also thanks to Josh Feola [Editor’s note: former RADII Culture Editor!] who was doing the bookings at XP at the time…


It wasn’t that I didn’t want to skate at the time, I felt like it was just not on my mind for quite some time, so music and art just felt more familiar to me when I first got into Beijing. I only got back into skateboarding during the pandemic time, where I felt like it would be fun to skate again and that’s how I got to meet some of the skate community around different parts of China. Some of them have become some of my closest friends and collaborators, which I am deeply grateful [for].


Jeff Yiu Skate Crew Converse


Simon: In skating and streetwear culture it seems like “the crew” is really important, as a group of friends that explores things together and builds an identity. Are there any crews you really admire in China these days? Would you say you’re part of a crew?


Jeff: I think being in a group environment is just really conducive to being more productive in a creative sense, like sharing a studio with someone you like or at least having a desk space so you can always touch base and see what each person is doing. I have met quite a few different crews that are all doing great things. I really like Lovespot in Beijing, they are always doing something fun. Also the Interesting crew out in West Beijing is making some really nice ideas together.


In Chengdu, I love the guys over at Greenergy, they are just full of vitality and rawness with what they do, having a fun time always skating and filming.


Shanghai, I really like the Land Project by Nanking Joe and also the guys over at Avenue and Son, been pushing the limits of their product range as well as event production, which is always inspiring to see them reaching a bigger audience with their ideas.


I am not really part of a crew but I am always open to people that have a good energy and a fun outlook on what they are doing. So if we get along and can just chill, then creative collaborations can always work out in due time.


Jeff Yiu Skate Crew


Simon: The 1980s murals on Line 2 of the Beijing Subway are a special part of the city, the skateboards you made with Lovespot using those graphics look really cool. What was it like working on that project?


Jeff: That was a really fun project, it really started off as a random discussion about tile patterns and Li Lun who runs Lovespot and I were just randomly throwing ideas together. I liked some of his graphic designs that he had used for his tea stall which had a tiling pattern and I told him I remember seeing some nice tiles in some Beijing subway stations and I took some photos and that’s how those boards were put together.


After getting the sample boards made, he had the opportunity to make an exhibition with Parkview Green and that’s how the Loop Line idea happened. It was all pretty unexpected, but we all learnt a lot from making that pop-up exhibition happen.


Loop Line Skateboards

Lovespot’s Beijing Loop decks next to their inspiration.


Simon: For you, what role does fashion play in subcultures like skateboarding, underground music, etc.?


Jeff: I have always enjoyed fashion, more specifically from a subcultural value point of view, like why certain groups dress in a certain way and how designers work with those little details to create a new context with their own worldview. I guess skating and music subculture in general is just a melting pot of different ideas from many different time periods. So I feel fashion is perhaps more a reflection of the zeitgeist and it feeds into other subcultures that can eventually create their own rules and values.


I didn’t really understand these subtleties when I was younger, but I did know what looked good to me at the time, so it was all very intuitive.


Jeff Yiu fashion portrait


Simon: What separates your photography for commissions and your personal photography? Does the line get blurred?


Jeff: I feel like I am always trying to photograph what I naturally understand with my own work, a lot of it comes down to my observation with things around me. My commercial work is just an extension of that practice but with the intent of serving the client’s needs, perhaps with a sense of story or a character they are trying to create with my own sensibilities.


Jeff Yiu Anar Aranya


Simon: What’s your favorite clothing brand or designer? Or, what’s a brand that you think is doing really good work in Greater China these days?


Jeff: My favourite designer is Janine Grosche, I have been a big fan of her sensibilities and over time seeing it evolve has been super exciting.


There are so many brands that are doing something unique, for me I really like Victoria and Yat Pit, they have collaborated with each other and the energy of their ideas always feels genuine and fun. I think their sensibility is also globally appealing, not just stemming from their Asian roots. I am always a big fan of ideas that are more open to new audiences and creating a melting pot of possibilities to enable people of different backgrounds to create new ideas together.


Janine Grosche

Janine Grosche in the studio.


All images by Jeff Yiu unless otherwise noted.

Green Bananas Become An Anti-Anxiety Symbol for Young Chinese Office Workers

The connection between green bananas and anxiety might seem far-fetched, but recently the unripe fruit has become a symbol of anti-burnout sentiment among young office workers in China. In Chinese, “anxiety” (焦虑, jiāolǜ) is pronounced similarly to “green banana” (绿蕉, lǜjiāo), just with the order of tones reversed. Many have thus put baskets of green bananas on their office desks with the label “Don’t Worry” (禁止焦虑, jìnzhǐ jiāolǜ) attached as a reminder to avoid excessive anxiety. The process of seeing raw bananas turning ripe has been described by some as “healing and heartwarming.” Memes such as “eating your anxiety away” have also become popular among netizens.


The phenomenon was started by Lin Wenhai, a former office worker in a large tech company. After quitting his job, he returned to his hometown of Zhangzhou, Fujian province, to start his own business selling fruit. Branding green bananas as an emotionally-healing and anxiety-dispelling fruit, his company Pinpinxian (品品鲜) is making 2 million RMB per month, and he claims to have “healed” more than 3 million office workers. However, the impact of the trend stretches beyond Lin’s company to much smaller fruit shops, whose sales have been significantly boosted. Chen Yuanzhen, the owner of a banana store in Hangzhou, was glad but perplexed to find a sudden influx of interest in raw bananas among young people. “I can’t make sense of it. I just sell bananas.”


Green banana

Image via The Paper.


This trend comes as the latest response to the intense work culture that is prevalent in China and other Asian societies. The green banana craze illustrates how younger generations of Chinese workers are increasingly looking for emotional support in the workplace. For corporations, it raises key questions on how to create a more welcoming and comfortable work environment. Beyond the implications for the future of office work, the phenomenon of the green bananas speaks to the emergence of a trend-based economy in China, where social media chatter around a specific commodity (or tourist destination) can rapidly, and often temporarily, increase its economic value.


Banner image via Jingji Guancha.