by Caroline Kieu Linh Valverde
photos courtesy of Le Phuong Thao, Le Si Hoang,
Dang Thi Minh Hanh, Le Minh Khoa and Trinh Bach

Like many other Vietnamese, my family took very little with us when we left Sai Gon in 1975. We had, mostly, memories of things or pictures and fragments of memories. One of these fragments carried my earliest recollection of an ao dai, the traditional Vietnamese "long dress." The picture shows me as a confident three-year-old strolling through the city park in my pink silk ao dai.

Many years later, I returned to Viet Nam after college to study the language and culture. As part of my attempt to immerse myself in all things Vietnamese I decided to have an ao dai made. I asked my aunt in Sai Gon to help me find a good tailor. With some deep purple, raw silk fabric from Thailand in hand, my aunt brought me to a shop that my Ba Noi had patronized for decades. The shop's claims to fame included outfitting Air Viet Nam stewardesses and the reigning beauty pageant winner.

My giddy enthusiasm was quickly squelched by the owner's disapproval of my taste. My chosen fabric was too stiff they said. They frowned upon my desire to exclude waistline-hugging seams known as darts. The biggest offense of all was my insistence on not using a heavily padded bra. They were disgusted with my flawed Western sensibilities and largely ignored my custom requests while designing my ao dai. It became clear to me that this traditional Vietnamese dress was mired in an antiquated design with very little modern aesthetics.

Then on a following trip in 1999, just when I thought the ao dai lacked contemporary appeal, I saw something quite startling. I noticed boutiques opening up throughout Sai Gon featuring atypical ao dais in their window displays. Designers were taking a stab at recreating the ao dai. Mannequins showed off exciting new cuts and varied fabrics. I was enthralled by the modern variations on such a traditional form. This marked the beginning of my fascination with the ao dai -a simple iconic dress with a rich history.

History of the Ao Dai
As ao dai designer, scholar, and artist Le Si Hoang once said, "Vietnamese culture borrows from other [cultures] to make our own." The ao dai, like so much of Viet Nam, is a fusion of cultures, integrating Chinese, French, and American influences. Yet despite this mergence, the aùo daøi retains its uniquely Vietnamese heritage. Earlier forms of the ao dai appeared centuries ago, but the modern ao dai as we know it today has a relatively short history.

The early semblances of the ao dai began with two-panel robes as seen during the days of Hai Ba Trung, Viet Nam's famed sisters who defeated the Chinese in 39AD. Out of respect for the Trung sisters, women began wearing the new four-panel tunic or ao tu than. This was widely used in what is now northern Viet Nam. Trinh Bach, a noted ao dai restorer, believes early forms of the ao dai can be traced back to 1301 when King Tran Anh Tong banned large-sleeved dresses resembling the Chinese robe, and again in 1374 when King Tran Due Tong prohibited Chinese-styled clothing in Viet Nam.

Another theory of origin claims that a decree handed down in 1744 during the Nguyen Dynasty led to the creation of the ao dai. Confucianist Lord Vuõ Vöông wanted to break down the rigid and classist dress code of the time. The solution was to simplify and standardize women's clothes. A Chinese-style high-buttoned coat and plain trousers replaced the traditional split-sided jacket and long skirt. During the reign of Gia Long (1802-1819), the ao tu than was transformed into the ao ngu than, five panels (similar to ao tu than with the addition of buttons). It was worn with a non quai thao or a hat with a tasseled strap. Emperor Minh Mang banned the vay, or skirt. Pants were introduced to the ruling elites while the common people continued to wear the skirt under their ao tu than.

Also at this time, women donned Manchu-inspired outfits that included high collars with closures that ran from the neck to armpit and down along the ribcage. Though one can trace early Chinese influences in the ao dai, Trinh Bach believes that the Chinese version of the ao dai, or pibao, first appeared in China in the form of the cheong sam in the 1930s, decades after Viet Nam's ao dai.