Bananas in pyjamas
OPEN a fashion magazine. Prowl Parisian catwalks. Go shopping in London. Then try to tell me Hong Kong style in all its retro kung-fu kicking, Shanghai-NRG, Tang-tastical flannels of fury is not, like, 'in', baby; not, like, totally Chow Yun 'Phat'.
Open this month's copy of The Face magazine and you'll see PLA soldiers, Henan sailors and Beijing rockers united in the colours of Benetton. You will see karate-chopping models, Jackie Chan 'Made in Hong Kong' T-shirts ($350 from Bond) and satin dragon tops ($700 from Hysterical Glamour). You will also see reviews of Hong Kong movies and read hipster du jour, Quentin Tarantino, saying things like: 'If I could click my fingers and become Chinese, I would.' Dance floors in style capitals across the planet are filled with gyrating trigger-girl dresses emblazoned with slogans like 'You number one big boy' and 'Hey, GI Joe, I love you long time'.
Blimey! Where will it all end? How much of this chop-suey fad can greedy fashion gobble up? Designers might be skimming the obvious images from Hong Kong's trash pile today but what happens tomorrow? Maybe now they have developed an interest in Chinese culture, designers might start digging a little deeper. They might actually turn up at Kai Tak and discover real Hong Kong culture and all the truly weird stuff people here wear every day, without attracting comment. Authentic, hard-core Chinoiserie makes Bruce Lee's trousers, Jackie Chan's haircut and David Tang's collection of floor-length dresses for businessmen seem absolutely normal.
I was following this train of thought when fashion's next big thing hit me like a thunk on the head from a Shaolin monk. Pyjamas! Of course! The trademark suit of a generation. The outfit preferred by eight out of 10 Hong Kong octogenarians. Whether you are walking your bird in the park, popping out for a new inhaler or simply standing outside your apartment looking lost and blocking the pavement, pyjamas are perfect: practical, smart, minimalist.
They are pure '90s. They are a fashion event waiting to happen. I felt like Joyce Ma experiencing Bodhivista.
Marketing would be no problem. Since almost everyone has a pair, celebrity endorsements would be easy to find: JFK wore PJs, Arnie's got jarmies, even Spielberg dreams in jimjams. The ads would make Chino's current campaign pale. Even if someone pointed out the awkward fact that none of these celebrities wear their pyjamas in the daytime, there are plenty of others that do. Deng Xiaoping, for example, has made them his signature look for the last half decade. If Mao can button up the world's most populous country in his own fog-hued two-piece, surely Deng can help shift a couple of million stripies? You have to agree that as visions of tomorrow's fashions go, this one has a terrifying inner logic. It has to happen. But is the world ready now? And if not now, when? There was only one way to find out. I took the escalator to the third floor of the Chinese Emporium, handed over $175 for a medium-sized pair of Forres Winter Pyjamas For Men and a pair of maroon leatherette flip-flops, went into the changing room, loosened the drawstring and stepped into the future. And what a smart, yet comfy future it is.