This First Person column is the experience of Lili Lai, who lives in Toronto. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
One of my fondest childhood memories in Montreal in the early 2000s was evenings watching Chinese dramas with my papa. I didn’t understand everything that was going on with my limited Cantonese and I complained when my dad insisted the shows would help me improve my fluency. But I secretly enjoyed the period dramas, such as Beyond The Realm Of Conscience 宮心計, a show about the Tang dynasty that ruled China from the seventh to the 10th century that revolved around a mysterious golden phoenix hairpiece.
I fell in love with the traditional clothing and decorations worn on that show, especially the hairstyles and jewelry. My favourite character was the kind-hearted jewelry maker’s daughter who worked in the imperial palace. That is what got me curious about fashion from that era and it sparked my love for Chinese history. In an interview, one of the actresses on the show shared how the entire female cast had neck and shoulder pains from all the heavy hairpieces, wigs and ornaments. I thought the actresses’ elaborate hairstyles were made from their natural hair, so I was frustrated when I couldn’t recreate the styles.
I’m half-Chinese and half-Vietnamese. My parents weren’t big on showing off their heritage — not even during Tết, the Vietnamese Lunar New Year. Our celebrations were pretty laid-back, with a handful of decorations that disappeared as quickly as we put them up — almost like we were cleaning up after Halloween. I don’t blame my parents, especially my mom, who escaped war-torn Vietnam in 1980 when she was just eight. Like many immigrants chasing a fresh start in Canada, they put their culture on the back burner to fully embrace their new home, which meant I didn’t get much exposure to traditional customs.
Only in the last few years did my mom warm up to the idea of sharing her culture. In 2023, we finally made a family trip to Vietnam. It was her first time back in 40 years since moving to Canada and it was incredibly special to see the country through her eyes.
But it wasn’t my first time in Vietnam. I went by myself in 2016 as a gift to celebrate my CEGEP graduation and I loved that experience. On my final day of that trip, I tried on a hand-me-down áo dài, a traditional Vietnamese outfit, from a family friend and it felt so comfortable and beautiful. I didn’t want to ever take it off. Seeing how normal it was in Vietnam to wear an áo dài made me want to feel that same cultural pride vibe at home — in a way that I never felt growing up as an Asian kid in Montreal.
When I got back to Canada, I held back because I didn’t have the confidence to wear one as I started university. My parents also didn’t encourage it and said that I should wear the outfit only during cultural occasions such as Lunar New Year or the mid-autumn festival.
But the idea of incorporating Asian fashion into my outfit of the day stayed with me. I tried on more Asian-inspired hairstyles, such as wearing ribbons in my hair even though my mom made fun of me for doing my hair up “like a kid.”
Then in November, I picked up the courage to display my culture on my Instagram and TikTok accounts. I stumbled upon this simple diagram on Pinterest showcasing several Tang dynasty hairstyles from the exact era of the beloved Chinese drama show that stole my heart.
I was struck by how simple and doable they seemed. It took me around 15 to 40 minutes for each hairstyle and I could do it all with my natural hair. It was a game changer. I realized that with a little bit of creativity, I could challenge myself to recreate these styles that used to frustrate me and fascinate me as a kid. Even though these hairstyles might seem old-fashioned, embracing my heritage in this way makes me feel more grounded in my present.
WATCH | Lai recreates a hairstyle from the Tang dynasty:
The response on Instagram to my hairstyle video series was mind-blowing. I got encouragement from people to keep going and represent my culture. It made me feel like I found a whole other Asian community online.
Even my parents have come around. When we went to China last year, my dad pointed out various clothing stores selling traditional dresses like hanfus and my mum did a vintage shoot in Shanghai wearing a cheongsam. It’s been heartwarming to see my parents re-embrace their culture.
Over time, I’ve realized this journey of embracing my culture and diving into my family’s roots through traditional beauty methods is more than just a personal quest. I realized that I’m not alone on this path. With my video series, I’ve connected with so many like-minded people who share the same feelings and want to proudly display their culture, and that is so gratifying for the little girl who never felt fully at home in Canada.
Do you have a compelling personal story that can bring understanding or help others? We want to hear from you. Here’s more info on how to pitch to us.