My grandma’s cheongsam was pulled out of a wooden chest and given to me to try on. I thought I would suffocate when I put it on, as it closed in on me with each button I clasped along its winding path. It led me to the mandarin collar, kept stiff with a piece of card that I thought would suffocate me. “She must have a thinner neck than me,” I joked. I could feel her body in this dress, wrapped under the same seams and curves and swathed in the same gorgeous blue and green fabric. It fit me so well it was gifted to me, and somehow I got used to the tight neck and bound shoulders. I wore it for my matriculation photos (about a year and a term after actually matriculating), feeling both my family’s pride and my full In the Mood for Love fantasy.
Originally published online in “An ode to sentimentality” in Varsity Publications on June 8, 2022.