Spring’s in Bloom—Here’s How Ancient Chinese Folks Enjoyed Flowers
Spring awakens with vibrant blooms, and in ancient China, hanfu flower culture transformed flower appreciation into an art form. Dressed in elegant hanfu, people followed the Flower Calendar to admire peonies, orchids, and more, celebrating colors, scents, shapes, vibes, and perfect timing. Let’s explore five timeless ways ancient Chinese folks enjoyed flowers, inspiring your hanfu journey today.
1. Admiring Vivid Colors in Hanfu Flower Culture
There’s this poet, Liu Yuxi, who said, “Only the peony’s the real deal, stealing the show when it blooms in the capital.”
Ancient folks started with a flower’s color. Red roses, yellow chrysanthemums, white magnolias—they all looked amazing, like a treat for your eyes.
They called the best colors “gorgeous,” meaning super bright and vivid. In spring, red was the star—think “a million shades of red and purple make spring pop.” By fall, yellow took over, like “chrysanthemums and crabs make autumn awesome.”
The poet Bai Juyi went wild for red flowers in Recalling Jiangnan, saying, “When the sun rises, river flowers glow redder than fire,” which made him miss Jiangnan big time.
The ultimate color was called “national beauty,” and Liu Yuxi gave that title to the peony’s red. Back in the Sui dynasty, Emperor Yang Guang built a huge garden and collected flowers from all over. According to Haishan Ji, they got tons of red peonies, like “dark red,” “light red,” or “flying red.” But the ancients didn’t love just any red—they were into soft, pinkish reds, especially “peach pink,” which women totally adored.
Peach pink and willow green were spring’s dream team. People loved peach pink way back in the Book of Songs, where Peach Blossom goes, “Peach trees in bloom, their flowers so bright.” Why the obsession? A guy named Li Yu in the Qing dynasty said peach flowers looked like a beautiful woman’s face—think “peach cheeks” or “peach dimples.” Besides peaches, they also loved pinkish “apricot red” and “plum red.” A Song dynasty poet, Lin Bu, wrote about apricot flowers: “Buds dry with blood-red specks, pink cheeks glowing in spring’s chill.”
2.Sniffing Flower Scents: Flowers Had a “Rank”
Another poet, Li Zhengfeng, said, “Heavenly scent soaks your clothes at night, national beauty gets you tipsy by morning.”
Flowers weren’t just pretty—they had to smell good too. “National beauty, heavenly scent” was the full package.
Ancient folks thought scents could “nurture your soul,” so they took smells seriously. They split scents into categories like “for your mouth” (food), “for your eyes” (views), and “for your nose” (flowers). Xunzi said stuff like, “Spices and orchids are for your nose.”
Spring had plum scents, summer had lotus, fall had osmanthus, and winter had winter daphne. The best smells were called “heavenly scents,” totally natural and mind-blowing. Peonies, plums, and osmanthus all got that label. Li Zhengfeng’s line was about peony scent, and Song Zhiwen wrote, “Osmanthus falls from the moon, its heavenly scent drifts beyond the clouds.”
Winter daphne was another fave—it was so fragrant, one plant could fill a room. They called its scent “sleep scent” because, according to Qingyi Lu, a monk napped on a rock, dreamed of an amazing smell, and found the flower. People thought it was a lucky flower, so they renamed it “auspicious daphne.”
But the real MVP was the orchid. In the Song dynasty, they called its scent “ancestor of fragrances” because one flower could make a room smell amazing for weeks. A Ming dynasty guy, Zhang Qiande, ranked flowers in Pinghua Pu, putting orchids at the top of nine ranks, followed by peonies, plums, and others. Confucius even said orchids had a “kingly scent,” and ancient texts like Zuo Zhuan called them the “national fragrance.” Why? Orchid scent was subtle, not in-your-face, so they called it “mysterious fragrance.”
3.Admiring Flower Shapes: “It’s All About the Pose”
Lin Bu also wrote, “Sparse shadows slant over clear shallow water, faint scent drifts under a dusky moon.”
It wasn’t enough to look at colors and smell scents—you had to check out a flower’s shape too. A Qing dynasty painter, Song Nian, said, “Flowers are all about their form first.”
A flower’s pose was as eye-catching as its color. People loved how flowers stood or leaned, making up for late blooms. A Ming poet, Chen Daofu, wrote about autumn begonias: “Green leaves spread wide, flowers pack the branches, swaying gently in the breeze. Yesterday, tons bloomed by the wall—who says autumn’s got no stunning poses?”
Flower poses came in all kinds: horizontal (chill), slanted (bold), curved (graceful), straight (serious), drooping (soft), or hanging (floaty). Each had its own charm, like a young woman’s vibe. In spring, flowers showed off their poses, as Xu Xuan from the Five Dynasties said, “New spring flowers and willows compete in beauty.” He was a fan of drooping willow branches.
Slanted and curved poses were super popular, especially with plum blossoms. Lin Bu, the “plum wife, crane son” poet, nailed it in Mountain Garden Small Plum: “Sparse shadows slant over clear shallow water, faint scent drifts under a dusky moon.” That slanted, dreamy vibe was intoxicating.
By the Ming and Qing dynasties, people were obsessed with twisty, slanted plum trees—so much that it got weird. In Bing Mei Guan Ji, Gong Zizhen said folks in Jiangsu and Zhejiang thought straight plums were boring, so they’d chop them up, trim branches, and force them to grow all crooked. Gong called it “sick plums,” but it shows how serious they were about flower poses.
4.Feeling Flower Vibes: It’s About Their Spirit
Ancient folks said: “Plums have a pure backbone, orchids are quietly fragrant, peaches blush shyly, plums wear bold makeup, apricots shine in light rain, chrysanthemums stand tall in frost.”
They also believed you couldn’t be classy without getting a flower’s “vibe.” This vibe, or “charm,” was like a flower’s personality—it could calm your heart and lift your spirit. You couldn’t see or touch it, but you felt it. It was all about what the flower symbolized.
They had sayings for each flower’s vibe: plums were pure, peaches were shy, plums rocked bold looks, apricots were delicate in rain, chrysanthemums defied frost, orchids were quietly elegant, narcissus had icy beauty, peonies were “national beauty, heavenly scent,” osmanthus floated like moon perfume, lilies meant good luck.
Peonies were a big deal since the Southern and Northern Dynasties, and by the Sui and Tang, they were the “flower king.” Their “national beauty, heavenly scent” nickname started in the Tang, and because they looked so fancy, people called them the “flower of wealth.” Zhou Dunyi in the Song dynasty said, “Peonies are the flower of riches.”
But the real star was the orchid’s vibe. Its pure, classy charm made Confucius call it a “gentleman.” Later, people grouped orchids with plums, bamboo, and chrysanthemums as the “four gentlemen” because they all stood strong against tough times. Orchids were especially linked to women’s grace, like a “beauty” or “elegant lady.” Su Dongpo in the Song dynasty wrote, “Spring orchids are like a beauty, blooming shyly without being picked.”
5.Following the Flower Calendar: Different Flowers for Different Months
The Ming dynasty’s Flower Calendar said: “Spring’s for plums and crabapples; summer’s for peonies and paeonias; fall’s for osmanthus, lotuses, and chrysanthemums; winter’s for winter plums.”
Ancient folks timed their flower-viewing with the seasons—what blooms when? A Ming writer, Yuan Hongdao, said in Ping Shi, “You gotta see flowers at the right place and time.” They had a Flower Calendar (like a flower schedule) to follow. The Ming version said: “Spring’s for plums and crabapples; summer’s for peonies, paeonias, and pomegranates; fall’s for osmanthus, lotuses, and chrysanthemums; winter’s for winter plums.”
A Qing guy, Tu Benjun, made a super detailed Ping Shi Monthly Chart. For example, in the third lunar month (around now), the top flowers were peonies, camellias, orchids, and peach blossoms, with “guest flowers” like azaleas, pear blossoms, and purple wisteria, and “messenger flowers” like viburnum, roses, and lilacs.
Timing wasn’t just about months—you needed the perfect moment for the “wow” effect. Snowy plum blossoms looked extra pretty, like “snow makes flowers pop.” Rainy pear blossoms had a vibe, like “pear flowers in the rain.” Yuan Hongdao suggested: “Winter flowers look best in early snow or under a new moon; warm flowers shine on sunny days or in fancy halls; summer flowers are great after rain or in a cool breeze; cool flowers pop at dusk or on mossy paths.”
Poets like Tang Bohu, a Ming dynasty playboy, loved checking out flowers at night. In Flower and Moon Songs, he wrote, “Peeking at the moon through flowers, flowers look extra special under moonlight. So many folks get tipsy under flowers and the moon every year.”
Location mattered too—not every famous spot was the best. For peach blossoms, Qing writer Li Yu said skip the fancy gardens: “Villages and hedges where shepherds and woodcutters live—that’s where peach blossoms shine.” He’d say, “Wanna see peach blossoms? Grab a donkey and wander the countryside.”
Oh, and one more thing—your mood had to be right. If you weren’t feeling it, even the prettiest flowers wouldn’t hit the same.
Learn more about seasonal blooms at China’s Flower Calendar Guide.
Why Hanfu Enhances Flower Appreciation
Wearing hanfu elevates flower-viewing into a cultural ritual. The flowing sleeves and delicate fabrics mirror the grace of plum blossoms or the boldness of peonies. Hanfu flower culture encourages mindfulness, blending fashion with nature’s beauty. Next time you visit a garden, don a hanfu inspired by orchid elegance or peony vibrance to honor this ancient tradition. Hanfu’s designs in the Tang and Song dynasties added splendor to flower culture
Wearing Hanfu during flower appreciation events requires understanding its cultural context.
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