Lineage woven in threads

More than 58 years ago, 16-year-old "educated youth" Deng Qiyao, born in Kunming, Southwest China's Yunnan province, was sent to the China-Myanmar border, a region home to many ethnic groups. It was during the "cultural revolution" (1966-76), when many people in Chinese cities dressed almost identically (mainly gray-blue, black, or army blue), in simple, military-uniform styles, with few accessories.

In Yunnan, however, Deng encountered a completely different world. Women of the Dai, Jingpo, Achang, and Derung ethnic groups wore short tops and long skirts, each with distinct styles, materials, patterns, and colors. Their garments were often close-fitting, accentuating their feminine silhouettes.

Even more surprising were the outfits worn by young women of the Hani ethnic group. They dressed in midriff-baring tops and thigh-length skirts, adorned with a dazzling variety of ornaments. Feathers, bone pins, fresh flowers and even insects could become decorations.

"They showed me that the world is not just one color, and it's simply human nature to want to make oneself look beautiful," Deng, 74-year-old anthropologist, writes in the preface of China Adorned, a book about ethnic accessories in China recently published by Yilin Press.

The decade he spent living among the many ethnic communities of Yunnan provided Deng with what he calls a folk education in anthropology — one for which he remains deeply grateful.

"The common people reminded us of basic common truths. It's simple: when you're hungry, eat; shouting slogans doesn't help. If you miss home, go to your mother. This straightforward way of living, seen in the honest lives of border communities like the Dai people, challenges the rigid and formulaic education we were used to, and brings us back to a more genuine way of life," he says.

After the "cultural revolution", Deng went to university. As one of the first university graduates after the resumption of the gaokao, or National College Entrance Examination, in 1977, Deng, a curious ruminator, chose to work at the China Academy of Social Sciences and do research on ethnic groups in Yunnan.

During a field investigation in a Miao village in central Yunnan, he once again encountered the powerful cultural significance embedded in ethnic clothing. This time, however, what struck him most was not just the visual beauty of the garments, but the profound history they carried.

He interviewed an elderly villager about the legends of the Miao ethnic group. The man pointed to a young woman's dress, saying it recorded all the deeds of their ancestors. Yet, there were no written words. Instead, the garment was covered in intricate batik and cross-stitch patterns, which Deng couldn't decipher.

The elderly man patiently explained the designs.

Some represented myths of creation that told of the origins of humans and nature. Others recounted the long migration of their ancestors from the Yellow River basin. Some depicted the origins of particular embroidery techniques. He also pointed out patterns and color combinations tied to beliefs, destiny and spiritual symbolism.

These visual narratives, combined with myths, epic songs and folklore, often corroborated each other — something Deng repeatedly observed during his fieldwork.

"Almost every ethnic group has an 'esoteric book', just as a Jingpo proverb says: 'The skirt is woven with the affairs of the world; those are the words left by the ancestors'," Deng writes in the preface.