When mainstream America adopts Asian cultural artifacts as a fashion trend, many Asian Americans react with a visceral but ill-defined uneasiness. This is because we have learned that whites who study kung fu, practice tai chi, eat Szechuan cuisine, wear silk dresses, own oriental vases, or lust after geishas are no more likely than the general population to accept Asian Americans as equal social, economic and political participants in American society. As I recently told reporter Vanessa Hua, "Mainstream American culture appropriates whatever cultural artifacts it can digest, and racial justice is hard for most people to swallow."

A recent article by Dan Wu and Jean Chen in Stir Magazine describes the selective nature of this cultural appropriation:

Asian culture may be prevalent in our pop culture society but it is certainly nothing new. The Oriental mystique has always existed as the predominate fascination of the Western world. Americans look to Asian culture as a way to make themselves ethnic by appropriating symbols that represent a sense of exoticism and intrigue. Chinese tattoos, for example, often prompt onlookers to ask the tattoo wearer the significance of their meaning, giving the tattooed a chance to seem cultured and otherworldly. It is the best of both worlds: not having to truly educate oneself about another culture and being able to wear the pretense of mystique and wisdom on one's sleeve (or arm). It is the superficial possession of a cultural trinket without having an understanding, or even willingness to understand, its true significance.

The limits of this "willingness to understand" extend also to a willingness to share cultural power: whites are generally willing to engage in cultural and social transactions with Asian Americans only to the extent that white domination of American culture and society is not challenged. The eating of sushi and the wearing of Chinese-character tattoos as fashion trends do nothing to protect Asian Americans from continuing racial discrimination.

-- Andrew Chin

Year of the Dragon

We All Scream for Chinoiserie

Commodifying Buddhism

How to Cash In and Make a Fashion Statement at the Same Time!

By T. T. Nguyen
Hardboiled
December 1999

The first time I saw a non-Asian girl wearing a Chinese dress was at the junior prom. All around me, girls cooed over her exotic find from Hot Topic. Meanwhile, I resisted the urge to confront a girl who, at one time in her life, probably taunted the rare Asian girl in her Catholic elementary school for having “chinky” eyes . . . only to realize she was wearing chopsticks in her hair, dark liquid eyeliner, and bright red lipstick. Was this a prom or a costume party? Five years and countless Chinese character and dragon print T-shirts later, I’ve come to accept the incorporation of Asian designs into American fashion. Why shouldn’t non-Asians be able to enjoy the beautiful fabrics and the symbolic power of the dragon?

Furthermore, instead of the meaningless chicken scratches that used to pass for “Chinese”, progressive clothing companies now take that oh-so-hard extra step to translate an English word into an actual Chinese character. I was inclined to believe that American society had begun to embrace Asian culture as opposed to exoticizing it. That is, until I came across the most recent Asian-inspired fashion trend: Buddha prayer bead bracelets.

A fashion trend is a great thing. Today, I can wear my MAC lip gloss because I’m feeling “dewy.” And tomorrow, I can wear my leopard print shirt because I’m feeling “animal.” Fashion trends provide endless ways to express ourselves. And while some trends evolve into classics, others simply make people embarrassed of ever having jumped on that bandwagon. Still, every time you wore your pegged jeans (yeah, you) or left one strap hanging from your overalls, you didn’t offend anyone -- just their visual senses.

But now, I feel a line has been crossed with the ubiquitous “Buddha prayer bead bracelet”. These bracelets are made of many large circular beads and one larger bead strung on elastic. They come in different colors or painted with Chinese characters for luck. Lauded as the “hottest new fashion accessories worn by the rich and famous,” they can be seen on a third of Cal’s trend-conscious and practically everyone at UCLA and USC.

Buddhists, however, wear these prayer beads, called Malas or Nenjus depending on the sect, not to compliment today’s outfit or to emulate Madonna, but to meditate and praise Buddha. To take these bracelets out of their religious context and mass produce them as something as empty and tacky as a fashion trend is to trivialize not only their inherent symbolism, but the Buddhist religion as well. So, if you’re sporting one of these bracelets around campus (and feeling unrightfully defensive), read on and learn a little about what it is exactly that you’re expressing.

Last fall, a white woman named Zoe Metro sparked the Buddha bead craze when she began marketing powerbeads under her own brand, Stella Pace (Italian for Star of Peace). A New York native who studied ancient Asian art at Princeton University, Metro got her “inspiration” (more like the entire design) for her powerbeads from the Buddhist prayer beads she saw on the Dalai Lama’s wrist. Although she began with wooden beads, Metro eventually put a New Age spin on the beads, using semi-precious stones believed to possess certain powers. For example, rose quartz to bring love, hematite for happiness, mother of pearl for money, black onyx for will-power, and carnelian for PMS relief. Very spiritual. Believing that she is encouraging spirituality as she is taking in $20 -$40 per bracelet packaged in a kitschy Chinese take-out container, Metro told Francine Parnes of The Associated Press (9/16/99): “Our bracelets . . . come with the four traditions of Chinese good luck: fortune, wealth, long life and happiness. When you put one on, you say the four traditions.” And then what? Now that I’ve filled my ‘spiritual quota’ for the day, do I simply wait for love, money, and cramp relief to fall from the sky? Right.

As in the way of fashion, once Metro’s powerbeads began appearing on celebrity wrists and in fashion magazines, cheaper versions of the bracelets started being cranked out by stores such as Express ($22), Urban Outfitters ($8), and Chinatown novelty shops ($0.67). Generally, these cheaper glass or plastic versions emphasize the luck they supposedly bring rather than the intended spiritual significance -- that is, if the stores bother attaching anything other than the price tag. So shoppers, enticed into the store by the dragon print shirt, leave with a Buddha bracelet to match, unaware that they are trivializing more than a symbol of religious identification, but a very personal, sacred aspect of religious prayer.

The Mala’s rich use of symbolism in almost every aspect of its construct is what provides deep, religious context for prayer, meditation, and mantra practice. The cycles within Buddhism are symbolized by the shape of the circular bead. 108 virtues and 108 defilements are represented by 108 beads. In the case of Jodo Shinshu (Japanese Buddhism), the beads represent all of Buddha’s followers, with the larger bead representing Buddha. Wrist Malas, portable versions of these beaded necklaces, contain 27 beads so that 108 is reached after four times around the bracelet during prayer. However, since trendy Buddha beads need to accommodate the size of most people’s wrists, only a meaningless number of 21 beads is used. Lastly, unlike powerbeads which concentrate on various semi-precious stones to bring the wearer luck, Malas can be made from bone, Lotus seeds, and sandalwood, depending on the specific practice to be performed. As for the plastic Buddha beads, Philip Barry of Shambhala Book Sellers considers the substitute acceptable as long as the wearer has the right intention.

Intention. That’s what makes the difference between a practicing Buddhist wearing prayer beads and a non-religious girl from USC with every conceivable color greedily covering her arm. The right intention is what makes it okay. Do you have the right intention? When people don these beads, I doubt they plan to use them for prayer. I doubt they recite the four traditions of Chinese good luck. And I doubt they understand the signifance and value imbedded within the beads. They think, “Hey, I’m into Eastern spirituality. It worked for all these celebrities. Maybe this will do something for me that other religions can’t.” Or, “I’m Asian, and this is Asian, and I’m going to sport it to show my Asian pride.” Or even, “Wow, I’m really hard up for cash. I’ll try anything.” But rarely do they think, “These are really cool. They must have some deeper religious meaning to them, and I’m going to learn how to use them correctly.”

Sevenju Pepper, a fourth year at Cal who comes from a Buddhist family, explained, “When people exoticize something, they don’t feel the need to learn more about it.” Or if they do look deeper, their romantic views cause them to selectively filter what they learn to maintain that exoticized image, so that, in the end, they don’t actually understand the true meaning.

Some people, like the salesguy from American Eagle, argue that since the trendy beads are not actual Buddhist prayer beads, wearing them for fashion is acceptable. But would wearing a rosary “inspired” necklace be acceptable to most Americans? I don’t think so. Furthermore, not even all Buddhists wear prayer beads because only the truly devoted meditate and pray on a regular basis. So why would you? And why would Christians wear Buddha prayer beads? The same people who, seeing my bright, green jade Buddha around my neck, still give me lollipops on campus in hopes of converting me or invite me to fun retreats, only to slip in the Christian part five minutes later. Christians obviously don’t practice Buddhism or hold New Age beliefs, so why hope to gain love and money from bracelets when the teachings of their God should suffice? Aren’t they inaccurately proclaiming their religious beliefs? Perhaps not. Perhaps because they don’t view these bracelets as part of a serious religion, but as just another Chinese dress.

It’s infuriating how people can reject or ridicule other’s religious or cultural practices only to turn around and take what they want from them to start a fashion trend. For example, the explosion of Indian culture’s bindis onto the fashion scene. It’s just as galling to discover that Zoe Metro has the nerve (although she does have the legal right) to copyright her Stella Pace beads and is currently “in hot pursuit of those that are illegally selling look-alike items.” Because she came up with the designs all on her own? This is the same woman who insists that she’s spreading spirituality through the marketing of her pretty accessories. Or is it that she’s merely capitalizing on the wave of trendy Americans exploring Buddhism and Eastern spirituality? Is this what you want to be a part of? I suggest that the next time you buy something “ethnically-inspired,” you think twice about what it is you’re trying to say about yourself. Because what you’re saying right now, isn’t worth hearing.

By Vanessa Hua
San Francisco Examiner
February 6, 2000

A no. 5 chow mein, jasmine tea, and a side order of culture — to go, please.

These days, Chinese culture is the hottest take-out dish around the country, with ancient tradition served up for creative and spiritual inspiration.

New York Knicks player Marcus Camby and Sporty Spice Melanie Chisholm are among the jet set sporting Chinese calligraphy tattoos. Power, Zen, and Buddha beads — bracelets inspired by humble Buddhist wrist malas — are trendinista must-haves. And mass market clothiers such as Aeropostale as well as hip San Francisco boutiques carry assorted chinoiserie fashions and home decorations.

Many Chinese Americans take the mark of mainstream cool as a compliment, and are even amused at the sudden interest in what they consider to be at-home, everyday aspects of their lives. But critics say such trends co-opt fluff without making social progress and callously disregard the cultural significance of symbols.

The growth of Chinese-influenced styles in the United States has its roots in the search for spirituality, the burgeoning interest in global cultures, and the desire for the different and exotic, trend-watchers said. It's the latest development in America's sometimes hot-cold relationship with the Far East — and in particular, China — that swings between "yellow fever" and "yellow peril."

The popularity of chinoiserie springs in part from the culture's longevity. "Knowing that people have done this for thousands of years gives more credibility," said Barbara Coulon, director of trends at market forecaster Youth Intelligence in New York.

Cashing in

Canny retailers and designers have cashed in, tweaking cultural motifs to suit U.S. tastes.

"It's about taking elements of other cultures and making them more usable," said Pat Belardi, senior vice president of merchandising for Discovery Channel Stores, whose 128 outlets feature dragon-patterned lamps, candles and books to celebrate Asian Lunar New Year.

"In a way, it's flattery," said Karen Lee, 24, of Belmont, who costumes Asian American theater productions. "When you're a designer, you have to look to other things for inspiration."

Some Chinese American leaders view the culture's increased exposure in fashion, movies and feng shui home design as a way to promote greater understanding between people.

"We're establishing an inner fusion of cultures, within and among different communities," said Jeff Yang, publisher of A. Magazine in New York.

That's not to say that shoppers always know the meaning and origin of cultural curios.

Natoosha Fooman, a tawny-haired Sacramento lobbyist, wears her power beads every day despite the strange looks the bracelets draw from others in the halls of government.

"I'm a true believer. I feel different when I wear them," said Fooman, 34, who wears her black onyx beads when she needs a confidence boost.

In some Buddhist sects, such beads are a reminder of humanity's imperfections and help practitioners keep track while reciting short prayers 108 times.

Last year, designer Zoe Metro paired the beads with New Age crystal therapy to sell more than 500,000 of the $25 to $50 bracelets in upscale stores. Her design spawned thousands of copycats sold in mall kiosks, sidewalk stalls, and other retailers. Metro's top seller, mother-of-pearl, offers financial success — a seeming contradiction of Buddhism's ascetic ideals. Others represent love, balance, even relief from premenstrual syndrome.

"No one has time to say the mantra anymore every day," said Metro, 30, a Princeton University art history graduate. "I'm reinterpreting Buddhism as my own, so more people can understand it. That's a positive influence."

Some Buddhists disagree with Metro's opinions.

Simple superstition

"This is just superstition. Business people are capitalizing on unrefined spiritual needs," said LaVerne Sasaki, minister of the Buddhist Church of San Francisco.

Indeed, the controversy surrounding these modern-day malas underscores the tensions that often come when one culture appropriates pieces of another.

Just as members of the Asian Indian Hindu community became incensed after singers Madonna and Gwen Stefani wore religious bindis and henna designs, so too do some Chinese Americans now question the current enchantment as insensitive and offensive.

Dan Wu, 25, of Potrero Hill, considers calligraphy tattoos a cheap shot at being cool that winds up marginalizing Chinese culture.

"It's just exotic to them, but the Chinese language means something to me," said Wu, who edits a 1,500-circulation magazine called Orientalwhatever. "They're taking it totally out of context. They'd think it was cheesy or tacky if the tattoo was in English."

Spice Girl Chisholm's tattoos read "girl power," the music group's tongue-in-cheek credo. Basket ball player Camby has two characters on his arm. The top one translates as "I strive to be the best," while the other, which he interprets as "I love my family," actually means "race, clan."

Wu said he respects those making a genuine effort to learn more about Chinese culture, and mentioned a Caucasian friend who is learning to read and speak Mandarin, and is studying acupuncture and martial arts.

"He's more Chinese than I am," Wu said.

Others expressed concern that the trend is a form of tokenism that extracts camp, kitschy value and casts aside reality.

"All these superficial characteristics of Chinese culture are being glamorized, but real life flesh-and-blood Chinese people are often ridiculed and are hardly considered fashionable," said Mike Lai, 25, a 1996 UC-Berkeley graduate and Cupertino native.

Though Hong Kong action star Jackie Chan is a hit with audiences, more often Chinese characters provide minor comic relief with their bad accents and weird behavior, Lai said.

This too will pass

In time, style mongers will move onto the next craze du jour.

"It's kind of difficult to find out what the next culture of exploitation will be," said Wayne Whelan, with a trace of irony.

Whelan, co-owner with Jing Chen of the Mission District's Therapy furniture and gift store, sniffed out the East Asian trend about two years ago and has kept the store stocked with dragon-printed flip-flops, Chinese dolls and other clothing since then.

"Let's face it, we can only have so many dragons. Let's bring on the elephants," said Whelan, referring to a common subject in Asian Indian art. Ganesha, the elephant-headed god of knowledge, plays an important role in Hindu mythology and culture.

What remains — after the commercial fascination ends — is the task of working toward true acceptance, activists said.

"Mainstream American culture appropriates whatever artifacts it can digest," said Andrew Chin, 33, co-founder of ModelMinority.Com, a Web clearinghouse of Asian American resources. "And racial justice is hard to swallow."