As a multiracial Asian American, I appear racially ambiguous. I lack many of the physical traits one associates with being Chinese, thus people hesitate to identify me as such, relegating themselves to nodding politely when I tell them, then responding with “that’s what I thought”. This ambiguity was unhelpful while I was in the process of trying to figure out who I was, and I found it difficult to identify myself as Asian.
However, that didn’t stop me from attempting to engage with my culture. When I was 14, my high school had a spirit week and one of the days was Formal Friday. I had some relatives who had been sending me cheongsam (a traditional Chinese dress, also called the qipao) since I was little, that had remained unworn, in my closet.
I didn’t wear the cheongsam for a variety of reasons, from the lack of occasion, to its difference from the comfortable clothes that were more my style, but the principal reason was because I felt like an imposter while wearing it. Despite my reservations, I wore it to school anyway, in public for the first time. It was winter, so I styled it with a warm cardigan and a nice pair of flats. However, despite all going well, I still remember feeling distinctly uncomfortable the whole day.
That day, the person who made it most difficult to wear the cheongsam was me. I wasn’t yet secure in my Chinese identity, so wearing traditional Chinese clothing made me feel like I wasn’t “Asian enough”. I had imposed a standard of “Asian-ness” upon myself, and because I couldn’t be outwardly identified as Asian at first glance, I didn’t make the cut of identifying myself as Asian. I couldn’t help but feel like other people would judge me for wearing a cheongsam and not being “Asian enough”. After this, I only wore the cheongsam in public for one other event, making it a grand total of two times that I’ve worn traditional clothing. I hope to get a new cheongsam one day, now that I feel comfortable claiming it as mine to wear.
Pictured above: the author on the day in question
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