Inspired by the classic Tang jacket (唐装)—a traditional Chinese outer garment—Adidas reimagined historical fashion through the lens of modern streetwear. Pairing the signature Adidas three-stripe look and tracksuit silhouette with hallmark details of traditional Chinese tailoring, such as a stand-up Mandarin collar, vibrant colours, and Chinese knot buttons (盘扣) or decorative “frog” toggle closures.

Photo credits @Chinese Culture

If you grew up celebrating Chinese New Year, you’ll probably recognise these intricate loops from the qipao/cheongsam (長衫) or changpao (長袍) that your parents forced you to wear to the annual family reunion dinner (團圓飯) as a child. Woven into many traditional Chinese garments, these handcrafted knot patterns symbolise unity, harmony, and good fortune—manifesting happiness and prosperity for the year to come. 

The Adidas Tang jacket is not just a fashion statement—it’s a cultural statement

At the heart of this trending Tang jacket moment is the rise of Neo-Chinese fashion (新中式), which transforms clothing into a vessel for cultural heritage, memory and expression. Recent consumption trends such as the “national wave” (国潮) highlight how Chinese consumers have started to embrace and prioritise products that celebrate national identity, choosing to wear their culture rather than leaving it trapped behind museum glass.  

Photo credits @Jasmin Sin

The Tang dynasty (618-907 CE) is widely regarded as China’s golden age—a period where artistry, culture, and cosmopolitan society flourished under the economic prosperity of the Silk Road. By developing a contemporary style Tang jacket, Adidas embodies its newest brand motto—“global brand, local mindset”—and learns to speak the language of other cultures. 

Design choices like the knot pattern gesture towards an attention to detail that goes far beyond surface aesthetics, exhibiting how international players—like Adidas—have finally begun to slow down and take the time to understand cultural nuance as a part of the design process, as opposed to just a marketing afterthought. This shift away from the logic of a one-size-fits-all global drop reshapes how global name brands interact with local communities, blending lifestyle, fashion, and performance. 

We need to talk about Adidas at Shanghai Fashion Week

Photo credits @Vogue

In October 2025, Adidas closed Shanghai Fashion Week SS26 with its own standalone show titled ‘POWER OF THREE’—a spectacle that paid tribute to the brand’s iconic three-stripe DNA and offered an exclusive sneak peek into its upcoming campaigns. Their ready-to-wear collection and “see now, buy now” sales tactics transformed the runway into an elaborate storefront with exclusive pieces made available for purchase immediately after the show. 

Photo credits @hypebeast

Celebrating their 20th anniversary in China, Adidas’ high-profile Shanghai debut went beyond the usual collaborative capsules, fusing classical craftsmanship techniques with futuristic cut lines and contemporary performance materials. 

Silk, mesh, and a five-metre-long train—Adidas may not be a designer brand, but their Shanghai roll-out definitely delivered the same theatrical energy as a luxury designer showcase. With looks that staged the Lion dance all over the borders of athleisure and haute couture, ‘POWER OF THREE’ brought “East meets West” onto the centre stage in one of the best possible ways. Supermodels carried the traditional Chinese birdcages that you’d spot on Yuen Po Street as props, futuristic footwear looked like it came straight out of the new Tron: Ares (2025) movie, and the iconic Adidas tracksuit was made renewed with a cultural twist. 

Photo credits @Prophecy Brand

Photo credits @hypebeast

Adidas China: Local project, global impact 

Despite their hyperlocalised strategy, Adidas China’s latest campaigns have garnered global attention by successfully merging the brand’s international identity with local culture. Tourists and fashion enthusiasts alike flock to China for a chance to get their hands on the exclusive wardrobe. Online trends show all the hottest fashion influencers styling the Lunar New Year collection into their daily fit checks. 

The Adidas Tang jacket isn’t just a seasonal bestseller—it’s a piece that feels culturally familiar and carries the symbolic weight of living heritage. By bridging the past and present with traditional craftsmanship and dynastic aesthetics, the athleisure brand has curated an emotionally resonant, comfortable and wearable collection that embodies contemporary culture. 

With the 2025 Year of the Snake Adidas jacket collection almost always sold out in stores, the message is clear—brands that respect local traditions rather than borrowing them as a decorative gimmick will gain social capital that outlives any seasonal hype. Repeated sellouts have turned the Adidas Tang jacket into a quasi-cult collectable item, with fans and resellers fighting for the newest stock and colourways. 

Whether you see it as a cultural artefact or a consumer craze, the popularity of Adidas’ Tang jacket underscores a bigger truth—the consumers of today are no longer satisfied with products that simply look good, they want their stories braided into their apparel too.

What will you be wearing in 2026—the Lunar New Year of the Horse? 

The post THREE STRIPES, ONE TANG JACKET: THE RISE OF ADIDAS CHINA appeared first on T&C Magazine.

Ribbons, lace, and a whole lot of pink. What do all of these have in common? And, what in the world is Coquette Core?

If you’ve ever spotted a girl on the street dressed like a doll, with ribbons in her hair, a petticoat, and a parasol, you might think that you’ve accidentally stepped into a time machine—or a gaudy Back to the Future (1985) knock-off—that has magically whisked you back to the 18th-century, when wide panniers and tight bodices were the standard. But, unfortunately, that is (probably) not the case. You may have just had your first encounter with Lolita Core, a Japanese ultra-feminine fashion subculture inspired by the clothing of young women from the Victorian and Rococo eras. 

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed that hyperfemininity has cycled back into fashion on a carousel of viral microtrends. From idolising Barbie to glamorising Marie Antoinette, recent Gen Z women’s fashion trends have leaned into celebrating gender-normative designs that scream delicateness, daintiness, and soft-spoken expression as aesthetic staples and must-have accessories. I’ve always believed that trends are social, and fashion microtrends are no exception. It is never just about the clothes. Microtrends come and go, but the glossy fashion merry-go-round just keeps spinning, always ready to deliver another familiar yet slightly reimagined twist on ribbons, bows, and a particular shade of “pretty” pink. To me, the prevailing wave of hyperfeminine aesthetics is not just about the pastel palette or the blush tones—it reflects a broader sociocultural tug-of-war. Are women reclaiming pink as an expression of power, or are we simply dressing up the dusty uniforms of femininity in prettier packaging?

Perhaps no aesthetic embodies the sticky tension around hyperfeminity more vividly—or more ornate and polarising—than Lolita Core, the lead horse in the carousel of ribbons and bows. Lolita is a princess. She romanticises the past, dabbles in needlework, and daydreams about royalty while taking graceful, small sips of her Earl Grey tea. Frills, ruffles, and tulle are a must. Lolita Core is an alternative aesthetic that lets its members live out their most extravagant dress-up fantasies. Yet its warm embrace of the inner child is often overshadowed by the controversy surrounding its namesake: Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, a novel centred around a middle-aged man’s paedophilic obsession with a 12-year-old girl. 

Despite the line drawn between Nabokov’s Lolita and the Lolita Core aesthetic, the symbolic weight of the word creeps into the corner, like a sinister doll straight out of Annabelle (2014). A common critique is that Lolita Core, as a concept, however inadvertently, still plays into the voyeurism, fetishisation, and objectification of women; its aesthetic obsession with cuteness and childlike innocence reinforces age-old patterns of female self-infantilisation. The goal is to dress like a doll, but that, in itself, is arguably problematic as it feeds into the outdated script that women should be beautiful, submissive, and passive playthings for men. On this matter, New York University (NYU) scholar Teresa Bounker makes a sharp counterpoint: ‘The Lolitas of Lolita Fashion, unlike Nabokov’s Lolita, are actually a pedophile’s worst nightmare: they are not young, they are not sexualized, they are not easily exploitable, and they clearly have a lot of needs to be met.’ In other words, the fantasy being fulfilled here is not the male fantasy of female submission, but rather women reclaiming the hyperfemininity narrative on their own terms. 

In the ever-growing family tree of fashion microtrends, I like to think of Coquette and Blokette as the baby sister and brother of Lolita. Both repackage and deliver a sleeker, bite-sized Gen-Z-friendly branch of hyperfemininity tailored for the mainstream market. In 2024, Nylon reported that Pinterest searches for ‘dollette coquette outfits’ tripled in November 2021, before skyrocketing fivefold in December. Compared to Lolita, Coquette is treated more lightheartedly. She brings a picnic basket and gets lost in the exquisite ball gowns of Bridgerton. She is Lana Del Rey’s hit single “Chemtrails Over The Country Club” playing in the background while you and your friends get ready for a night out. 

Like Coquette, Blokette Core saw a huge boost in popularity around the 2022 World Cup. Part sports jersey, part ruffles, Blokette invites women to stake their claim in traditionally male-dominated spaces such as football stadiums and hockey rinks. Once cast as arch-nemeses, the so-called tomboys and girly girls now share the same wardrobe. Blokette is the elementary class reunion—the breakdown of the binary—where soft meets sporty and feminine meets edgy. As Alexi Alario, co-host of the Nymphet Alumni podcast and the person who coined ‘blokette’ told Coveteur, ‘Being a spunky tomboyish ‘soccer girl’ was such a defining trait in the early 2000s.’ It was even immortalised in iconic films like She’s The Man (2006). 

Alario says, ‘In combining stereotypically masculine and feminine elements, blokette also represents stylistic androgyny in a way that’s more playful and casual than the shapeless neutral sacks that are often marketed as “genderless fashion.”’ Blokette defies the traditional binary and conventional vision of gender. They mix basketball shorts with laced-up corset tops, tracksuits with mini-skirts, and puffy sleeves with joggers. It is about more than just team spirit. Beyond the metaphor and their status as permanent residents of Coreville, Blokette reconceptualises streetwear for men, women, and non-binary wearers alike, ushering in a gritty next-gen lens on androgyny—one that aligns more intimately with Gen Z’s fluid approach to gender. In true Donna Haraway fashion, Blokette realises the dreams of A Cyborg Manifesto (1985), blurring the boundaries of gender, style, and fashion—refusing the binary in favour of something far more hybrid and chimeric. 

Yet, the thought still lingers… Are these hyperfeminine aesthetics really for the girls, or does the male gaze manage to glare through a conveniently placed crack in the wall? After all, in French, ‘coquette’ literally means a woman who flirts, reimagining the archetype of the seductress—complete with bows, soft silhouettes, and embroidered flourishes—whilst still walking hand-in-hand with Lolita, the 2010s Tumblr ‘nymphet’ persona, and the uncomfortable trope of young, wide-eyed girls being cast as temptresses for men at least twice their age. However, while Lolita was teased by the shadows of controversy, Coquette somehow skipped onto the carousel with a light pirouette—perhaps because she offers a more palatable version of Lolita that aligns neatly with Western tastes and Eurocentric beauty standards. 

Beneath Blokette’s quirky pairing of sneakers and tulle skirts lies the same muted undertone of erasure and cultural appropriation, where fashion styles rooted in marginalised communities are sanitised for mass consumption. Black and Latina women have styled sports jerseys with flair and finesse for years, but the look was only deemed fashionable once White influencers decided to join the ride, too. Blokette Core arguably commercialises the aesthetic of working-class sports culture, stripping away grassroots expressions of identity and reducing them to superficial fashion statements. As brands chase the hype and race to capitalise on trends, sportswear labels metamorphose into textbook hyperfeminine wardrobes, full of lace and frills.

But not everyone sees fashion as a reflection of society. For some, microtrends are less about social consciousness and more the product of commercial taskforces—designer-led collections, strategic marketing, and celebrity endorsements that subtly dictate what is ‘in’. Others argue that style is thoughtless and entirely up to the individual—you should wear whatever feels good, looks good, and gives you a little dopamine rush. Coreville then becomes a playground for fun and experimentation, a space for self-expression free from wider social and cultural meaning. 

There’s nothing wrong with embracing hyperfeminine aesthetics. Still, I think that the international Gen Z community should remain mindful of the loose threads and hidden strings woven into the clothes that they choose to wear—especially given how these styles can quietly reinforce gender norms and influence wider social discourse. Fashion can signal far more than just a passing style choice. Though, personally, I think Vogue says it best: ‘Seeing the world through powder-pink tinted glasses might be a raunchy recipe for male gaze disaster, but only if we want it to be.’ 

At the end of the day, women do not dress for men, and infusing our lives with a touch of whimsical hyperfemininity is just part of the fun. 

The post All Tied Up in Ribbons and Bows: The Revival of Hyperfeminine Style appeared first on T&C Magazine.

Congratulations on your exhibition and The Stallery’s 10th anniversary, CHANG! Could you please tell us about yourself and how your artistic journey began? 

Thank you! It’s surreal to be celebrating The Stallery’s 10th anniversary. It isn’t easy, but I’m proud to say that we’re still going strong. 

I started in photography and graphic design, but it wasn’t until I began experimenting with silkscreen, sculpture, and painting that I really developed my own visual language. 

My red-green colour blindness completely altered my visual world and pushed me to experience colour differently. Art became a way for me to understand the world—and for the world to understand me. It gave me structure and purpose during the dark times when I struggled with addiction. 

My bi-cultural, multilingual upbringing taught me to navigate between different worlds—East and West; English and Chinese; tradition and modernity—this duality flows through everything that I create. 

Can you describe your creative process?

For me, blending the traditional with the contemporary isn’t just a technique, it’s a reflection of how I exist in the world. I’ve always lived between cultures—East and West—and that tension naturally finds its way into my work. 

My process usually begins with a concept or contradiction—something existential and uncomfortable. Artifice started with Chinese scholar’s rocks. I reinterpreted classical Chinese elements, like scholar’s rocks and traditional embroidery, using modern materials. 

I pulled pop culture visuals that shaped my upbringing into conversation with tactile, time-honoured techniques like silkscreen, hand-stitching or bronze. I casted bronze sculptures of the bitcoin icon and used embroidery to mimic halftone screen prints. These combinations created a visual language of contrasts—ancient and contemporary, handmade and mechanical.

It’s like a translation. Each medium or symbol carries its own weight, and I like to experiment by combining these visual vocabularies—layering, distorting, and reworking them until they feel like they belong in the same universe. The goal isn’t to resolve the contrast, but to let the friction speak. 

What message do you want the Hong Kong audience to take away from Artifice? What does duality mean to you? 

Artifice is about the dualities that shape how we live today—authenticity and artificiality. These dichotomies are everywhere, especially in Hong Kong, where tradition and modernity constantly overlap. However, rather than trying to resolve these contradictions, this exhibition leans into them to facilitate the most honest reflections. 

I hope my audience finds the space in my work to reflect quietly. We’re surrounded by haste, pressure, and simulation. But, Artifice offers us a moment to pause. How much of our lives are shaped by forces both man-made and deeply human? These pieces are meant to unsettle and invite introspection. 

What motivated you to pursue your journey as a self-taught artist? What is the most important lesson that you have learned from your experiences? 

My mother was one of my biggest inspirations, she was an artist herself. But, my journey as a self-taught artist wasn’t exactly by design—it was more out of necessity. 

I studied art formally, but I dropped out twice. At the time, I struggled with addiction, and I also felt that the academic system just didn’t align with my mind. It felt rigid, quantitative, more about ticking boxes than exploring meanings. I left because I needed to find a path where I could learn on my own terms. 

That decision forced me to confront my own limitations and motivations. Art became a tool for survival and healing, for making sense of a world that often felt too overwhelming. Over time, I built The Stallery—not just as a space to create, but as a space to connect, experiment, and grow with others. 

The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that there’s no single path to becoming an artist. What matters most is honesty—in your process, message, and relationship with the work. It takes time and consistency to make that balance sustainable. 

You need to practice patience and maintain a healthy state of mind. Otherwise, being an artist is impossible.

What are you most proud of and how long did Artifice take to create from brainstorming to execution? 

Artifice has been a deeply personal and gratifying experience. The conversations it’s sparked about duality, authenticity, and identity have made me feel heard. 

This project took a couple years to come together, from its earliest conceptual sketches to the final installation. But, the themes of Artifice—the tensions between worlds—are what I’ve wrestled with all my life. It’s baked into how I see the world and how I work across mediums. 

I’m most proud of how this exhibition challenged me to evolve. For the first time, I scaled up embroidery as a central medium, bringing a different rhythm to my work. Slow, tactile, and deeply intimate, like a Buddhist meditation. Where silkscreen condenses months of labour in one moment, embroidery stretches time, emphasising patience. 

It also re-centres the usually slow and time-consuming ancient Chinese art forms into a modern China which is speeding towards digital immediacy. The tensions between depth and surface—ephemerality and permanence—are central to Artifice. They mirror our own experiences in an increasingly digitised world, reminding us that the human hand is the origin of all creativity. 

Photo Credits: Courtesy of The Stallery

The post ARTIFICE: INSIDE CHANG’S VISUAL WORLD OF THE IN-BETWEEN appeared first on T&C Magazine.

On November 17th, our team was honoured to attend the Via Ciauri X CELLina Thanksgiving event. This meaningful night was the perfect end to a long week as the fall evening was filled with pumpkin pie, heart-warming personal stories, and insightful conversations with one of the world’s top cancer researchers. Via Ciauri is a London-based luxury Sicilian heritage brand that celebrates the handmade artisanal craft traditions of Sicily, Italy. Our team had the delightful experience of meeting the founders of Via Ciauri, Sabrina Ciauri and Mia Ciauri, sisters who share a love and talent for research, fashion and tradition. On this night, guests had the opportunity to admire Via Ciauri’s product line from the Carrara AW 23 collection which consisted of black and white corset tops with handstitched Italian sequin tulle – an elegant and glamorous addition to anyone’s capsule wardrobe. 

Alongside Stacey Ciauri, an Emmy award winning TV news presenter working to boost non profit outreach, and global leader in philanthropy and social impact, Regina Miller, the Ciauri sister duo also founded CELLina, an innovative luxury jewellery brand dedicated to supporting and funding cancer research through non-profit organisations, in particular the Cris Cancer Foundation. Intertwining art and science, guests were invited to browse CELLina’s first immune cell collection of necklaces, bag charms and newest holiday ornaments which could be custom engraved on-site. Throughout the night, the CELLina team diligently and passionately shared the inspiration for their collection’s iconic design, explaining that the pendant represented the natural killer immune cells used to detect and destroy aberrant cancer cells whilst the ‘V’ on the necklace chain signified victory over cancer with the hopes of honouring and empowering cancer survivors and patients for their strength and vitality. The CELLina team also invited one of the world’s leading cancer researchers, Florencia Secchiari, for a panel discussion where they shared more details about their immunotherapy research and answered any burning questions about their work and area of study.

VIA Ciauri [ Instagram @viaciauri | Website: www.viaciauri.com | TikTok @viaciauri|

CELLina [ Instagram@cellina.official | Website: www.celinna.co.uk]

The post VIA CIAURI X CELLINA THANKSGIVING EVENT appeared first on T&C Magazine.