Dream To Be Star

March 16, 2022

Young Hongkongers set their sights on becoming the city’s next idol.

Yika Ng

Elka Cheng Tsz-ki was a contestant of King Maker IV, a reality show hosted in November 2021 by a Hong Kong TV station ViuTV. She only made it to the top 60 in the contest, but that does not stop her from pursuing her dream to become a singer.

Cheng had to cover spending on costumes, transportation, booking venues for training with money she saved from her part time job.

“I only ate one meal a day to save money during those two months of shooting for the reality show. The recording of the show often took more than 24 hours. I barely had time to sleep,” the 19-year-old says.

“Despite all the hardship, I will not give up. After having the experience of performing onstage in the contest, I fell in love with performing. I want to be a singer in future,” Cheng says.

Elka Cheng Tsz-ki made it to the top 60 in King Maker IV. (Photo courtesy of Elka Cheng Tsz-ki)

Cheng is now working at a clothing shop as a part-timer and she is now a member of Lolly Talk, a YouTube channel which she co-hosted with a few of the contestants she met in the reality show. At the same time, she is also taking singing lessons and sometimes she does busking.

Apart from dealing with financial problems to chase her dream of stardom, Cheng also struggles with maintaining family relationships.

Growing up in a single parent family, Cheng lives with her father who does not support her dream.

“We used to have a lot of conflicts about my future plans as my father thinks the entertainment industry is dangerous and he scolds me for not having a job with stable income,” she says.

Cheng has tried to ease tension between her and her father by sharing her work and her whereabouts hoping that her father will not worry about her when she is out working.

“Our relationship is better now. My father now listens to me rather than asking me to shut up,” she says.

Cheng is not alone struggling to make her dream come true.

Like Cheng, Tania Chan Kei-ching, made it to the top 60 in the same talent contest in 2021. She also participated in Stage K, a K-pop Dance competition hosted by Korean Television JTBC in Seoul Korea in 2019.

“I did not win any award or sign any contract with agency after taking part in those two contests but it both broadened my horizons, and I met people who share my stardom dream,” the year one university student says.

Chan is now studying hotel and tourism management and runs a YouTube channel with her friends.

While participating in the talent contests, Chan struggled to strike a balance between her study and filming for the TV programme.

“I had to skip a lot of my lessons due to the filming schedule. I often feel frustrated. I had to practice singing and dancing from the afternoon till midnight then I still had to do schoolwork,” she recalls.

“I enjoy studying but at the same time I enjoy performing on stage. I will not give up my study while pursuing my dream to be a singer. Because I can get a job with stable income if I hold a university degree,” she says.

Chan is now practicing singing and dancing more, hoping that she can post more dancing and singing content on her Instagram and YouTube this year to continue to pursue her dream as a singer.

Tania Chan Kei-ching participated in the K-pop Dance competition hosted by Korean Television JTBC in 2019. (Photo courtesy of Tania Chan Kei-ching)

Tania Chan Kei-ching also made it to the top 60 in King Maker IV. (Photo courtesy of Tania Chan Kei-ching)

Youtuber and dance teacher Li Pui-pui also challenged herself by participating in the same talent contest.

Li says she wants to try different things in life, and she does not want herself to regret for not participating in the show.

“I used to be self-critical and had low self-esteem. Seeing how other participants who are already professionals in dancing and singing, I always view myself as a half-baked performer,” Li says.

“It took me a lot of courage to re-watch a performance video of myself and read comments about my performance by netizens,” she adds.

Li spent HKD $10000 in total for preparing filming of the talent contest.

“I was financially struggling but it felt like I didn’t gain much in terms of popularity after the hard work. But I have learnt more about myself. I have learnt that I’m not a great singer so I can try rapping. I also found out that I am more interested in acting,” she says.

“I have been through quite a lot but this is just a start, not the end,” she adds.

Youtuber and dance teacher Li Pui-pui who also joined King Maker IV. (Photo courtesy of Li Pui-pui)

Li Pui-pui’s youtube channel. (Photo courtesy of Li Pui-pui)

Future stardom in Hong Kong

Professor Kim Shindong at The Media School of Hallym University points out that the entertainment industry in Hong Kong lacks a training system for glooming new blood.

“Hong Kong is not providing enough training programmes to educate and train people in creative arts,” he says.

“If you have the talents, discovered in early ages, and are trained more intensively by professionals who are knowledgeable and skillful, then there is a higher chance of success,” he adds.

Sub-edited by Angel Woo

Tough Road To Stardom

March 16, 2022

Trainees from South Korean entertainment companies share stories of hardship.

Charlie Chun

Fighting for Fame

Kanokrak Ngamlikitlert was once an idol trainee under SM Entertainment, one of the leading entertainment groups in South Korea, when she was 13.

“Being an idol is my childhood dream. I like singing and dancing,” Ngamlikitlert, now an 18-year-old communication arts major student, says.

Only four including Ngamlikitlert were selected out of thousands to become trainees in a global audition in Bangkok, Thailand in 2017.

She travelled to South Korea for training and took singing, dancing and Korean classes during her three-month school break in summer, and she had to keep practising when she was in Thailand.

Weight Loss Challenges

Weighing 60kg with a height of 173cm when she first joined the Korean agency in 2017, she was told to reduce her weight to 48kg.

“I only had two or three apples a day and I reduced my weight to 48kg in six months, but the agency kept asking me to lose more weight. I did not have my period for a year due to weight loss, and I suffered from binge eating when I returned to Thailand ,” she recalls.

After three years of training, Ngamlikitlert was told to leave the company as she failed to lose more weight.

“I did lose weight to 48kg, but my weight later bounced back to 55kg, I was asked to leave the company in June 2019,” she says.

“Sometimes I think if I could endure a bit more, I might have become an idol. But I experienced both physical and mental pressure, and my health got worse,” she says.

Ngamlikitlert received a lot of offers from other training agencies in South Korea after leaving SM entertainment.

“I do not want to be a trainee anymore after the overwhelming experience. I will continue my study,” she says.

Kanokrak Ngamlikitlert filming a dance cover in Thailand.
(Photo courtesy of Kanokrak Ngamlikitlert)

Self-realisation

Like Ngamlikitlert ,Vorakarn Jungrungruengthaworn was another Thai student selected to be a SM Entertainment idol trainee in South Korea in 2017.

She aspired to join the entertainment industry after watching BTS’s performance when she was 13.

“I wanted to be like BTS. I was impressed by their performance. I practised singing for two hours and dancing for more than four hours for three months to get ready for an audition in 2017,” the 19-year-old student recalls.

She was recruited by SM entertainment at the age of 15, but was sent home because she gained 1kg after a month.

“I was depressed when I was told to leave. I thought I would be able to stay,” the communication arts major student says.

Unlike Ngamlikitlert however, she has not given up her dream. She still attends auditions held by other entertainment companies, and is seeking job opportunities from both dance and media industries.

“I will not give up, and at the same time, I will not limit my options to only dancing,” she says.

Vorakarn Jungrungruengthaworn preparing for dance practice in Thailand. (Photo courtesy of Vorakarn Jungrungruengthaworn)

Also sharing the same dream of stardom is Suyeon Kim from South Korea. Now a university graduate, she declined to reveal her identity due to contract issues.

Seeing South Korean girl group Girls Generation on TV at the age of 10, she was inspired to join the entertainment industry.

Kim’s dream almost came true when she was scouted by a casting manager in 2016 at the age of 16 when she was meeting a friend in Cheongdam, Seoul.

But being a trainee was not as easy as she thought that she quitted after six months.

“My health condition worsened because of unbalanced diets and extreme weight control. Trainees can only eat salad and chicken breasts,” Kim recalls.

“I was scolded by trainers because I failed to reduce my weight to meet the target set by the agency. It was traumatising. I was not able to practice and eat properly for days since I was too upset,” she recalls.

She decided to quit and continued her last year of study in high school after her first contract expired in 2016.

“My company offered to extend my contract under the condition that I had to quit school so that I could focus on training. But I do not think I like singing that much after knowing more about myself in the trainee experience,” she says.

Pathway to Success

Cases of trainees being exploited in South Korea have been widely reported by the media, such as slave contracts, extreme weight control and long training hours.

Professor Kim Shindong at The Media School of Hallym University, points out the situation has improved during the last decade after the government implemented laws to regulate the industry.

“The Korean government took actions to protect trainees, and slave contracts no longer exist,” Kim says.

Since 2009, the Korean Fair Trade Commission, South Korea’s regulatory authority for economic competition, states that a contract should not exceed seven years.

The South Korean government also introduced policies in 2014 to forbid underage singers and actors from taking part in overnight performances and productions, and from being coerced into sexualized portrayals.

Kim thinks the trainee system provides a pathway for young people who want to join the entertainment industry to chase their dreams.

“Being an idol trainee is somehow similar to getting a university degree. One has to study hard to survive harsh competition and get into top universities. You need to work hard to be successful. You can just drop out if you cannot stand it,” he says.

Sub-edited by Angel Woo

Shining For My Stars

March 16, 2022

Cup holders, photo cards and posters were placed in milk tea shops to celebrate Jeremy Lee Chun-kit’s birthday in a cafe in Yau Ma Tei in September 2021. (Photo courtesy of Ko Sin-lam)

Mirror fans design products to support their idols.

Esme Lam

Sheep Yeung, a fan of Mirror, started to make dolls modeling on Jer Lau Ying-ting, one of the singers in the 12-member boy band in January 2021.

“I posted an image of Lau edited by myself on my Instagram story and tagged him to share his song to others in August 2021. To my surprise, he saw my story. Although he did not reply to me, this made me feel so happy. So I tried to design some goods to promote Lau,” she says.

Each of her dolls nicknamed “Lau BB” comes with a set of clothes, a birth certificate and a linen bag. Each package costs HKD$250 (US $32.1) and over 300 fans of Lau have ordered it.

“I chose to design and produce dolls for Lau since there are fan-design dolls in each fandom and I wanted to own a doll modeling on Lau,” she says.

Sheep Yeung designed a doll modeling on Jer Lau Ying-ting and named it “Lau BB”. (Photo courtesy of Sheep Yeung)

Yeung spent three to four months and many efforts to revise her design and communicate with a factory for production.

“I never thought so many fans would buy my dolls. It is a miracle. I am not studying design or anything about creativity. I am not even good at drawing. But still some people like my dolls and are willing to pay for them,” she says.

Although many fans have ordered her dolls, Yeung does not make any money from it.

“Being a creator and fan of Mirror, the starting point of designing and producing these dolls is to make my creations come true and share them with others. So it is never about making money,” she says, adding that she is only selling at a price which is slightly higher than the cost.

Sheep Yeung’s dolls come with a set of clothes designed according to Jer Lau Ying-ting’s previous image. (Photo courtesy of Sheep Yeung)

Cup holders holding fans together

Another Mirror fan, Ko Sin-lam designed cup holders featuring images of Jeremy Lee Chun-kit, another member of Mirror, for free distribution at three milk tea shops to celebrate his 26th birthday from September 4 to 9, 2021.

“I think it is a good opportunity to celebrate my idol’s birthday by distributing free cup holders as it is a good chance to promote Lee. Consumers who just want to have a drink may take a look at my cup holders and learn about Lee,” Ko says.

“Milk tea shops can also be a gathering place for fans to celebrate his birthday together by holding events,” she adds.

Ko and her partner started to design her cup holder in July 2021. They picked a photo of Jeremy from her concert photo collection and a background colour to match the picture.

“To match Lee’s image and the vibe of his performance, roses and butterflies were added to enrich the design of the cup holder,” Ko says.

“It is a very rewarding experience. I received lots of support and encouragement from many Mirror fans,” she adds.

She says she will continue to design cup holders for her idol this year.

Sharing the same passion for Mirror as Yeung and Ko, Maggie Leung started designing stickers featuring one of the 12-member boy band Edan Lui Cheuk-on in 2018.

She has so far designed over 140 stickers which are shared on instant messaging platforms including Telegram, WhatsApp and Signal.

Leung became a fan of Mirror after watching their debut press conference in 2018. The freelance illustrator then started to produce these stickers with her “Berdan”, a character designed by herself.

“Berdan” has the characteristics of both Lui and Bert, a character from a children television show Sesame Street.

“After watching the canvassing video of the final round of King Maker in 2018, I found Lui and Bert look quite alike. That was how I found inspiration for my stickers design,” Leung says.

“I started to draw stickers as I wanted to make something useful with low cost, and I thought it would be interesting to use them when I text my friend. So I do it for myself rather than for Mirror and their fans,” she says.

Leung says it takes about 30 minutes to draw a draft, outline a sticker and finally colour it.

She launched her first batch of her stickers on Telegram in November 2018. Lui’s fans love them and often use them.

“I am really surprised. I just make them for fun. I never thought my stickers would be used by others in their chats,” she says.

Leung says she will continue to expand her series of stickers.

“Berdan” stickers designed by Maggie Leung were shared on Telegram in November 2019.

Joy to Hong Kong

Chan Ka-ming, former lecturer in social science at the Hang Seng University of Hong Kong, thinks that the fan-design culture of Mirror is more overwhelming than the Korean version.

“Take advertising light boxes and billboards as examples, they are just little spots for fans to take pictures in Korea. But light boxes and billboards featuring Mirror are now city attractions in Hong Kong,” he says.

“To celebrate Keung To’s (a member of Mirror) birthday, fans placed many light boxes, billboards and even decorations on a tram in Causeway Bay, where Keung To lives. It became “Keung To Bay” during his birthday,” Chan adds.

Chan states that fans can make use of their talents and in return they have a sense of achievement when producing designed products.

“People are frustrated due to the political issues in recent years. As fans can achieve both joy and sense of achievement through supporting their idols, they are very involved in making these goods,” he says.

Chan thinks that making fan-design goods may also be seen as an act to vent their dissatisfaction to society.

“Mirror is a Hong Kong boy band, a product of ViuTV, which is a ‘weaker’ player in the television industry compared with TVB. Supporting Mirror therefore becomes a way for their fans to show their dissatisfaction to the great powers,” he adds.

Sub-edited by Angel Woo

Voice of Transgender Youth

March 16, 2022

A transgender young man founded an organization to raise the public awareness of transgender.

Christine Tang

Liam Mak Wai-hon, a 20-year-old associate degree student, faces more daily challenges than his peers, as he is going through gender affirming therapy.

Born as female, Mak has always wanted to live as a man and he turned into a transgender man four years ago.

“I told my mom I was a boy when I was three. My mom was not mad and thought I was just being childish,” Mak recalls.

Mak has been taking hormone pills bought from a pharmacy for his gender affirming therapy without medical advice since the summer of 2019.

Now he receives hormone injections every three weeks coupled with oral drugs and medical support to alter his body condition towards male.

“There is no end for hormone treatments, and I have to do it for the rest of my life,” Mak says. He is also considering going to Thailand for a top surgery to remove his breasts.

Liam Mak Wai-hon wants to be a boy since he was a child.
(Photo Courtesy of Liam Mak Wai-hon)

Along his transition journey, Mak has met other young transgender people, with whom he created a WhatsApp group of 10 members to share their experience in 2018.

Two years later, he formed Quarks – Hong Kong’s first trans youth organisation which now has over 2,300 followers on its official Instagram account and more than 100 members in the WhatsApp group.

Quarks has reached out to youngsters to promote peer support and arouse public awareness for transgender on social media since 2020.

According to the Food and Health Bureau, there were 495 patients diagnosed with gender identity disorder, and 40 persons have received partial or full sex reassignment surgery from 2010 to 2015.

Gender dysphoria, an unease caused by a mismatch between biological sex and gender identity, can lead to mental illness if such feelings grow intense.

“The state of life we (trans teens and trans adults) go through is different. Most organizations are for older transgender people aged over 30. We want to provide peer support for trans teenagers and young adults,” the founder of Quarks says.

“The state of life we (trans teens and trans adults) go through is different. Most organizations are for older transgender people aged over 30. We want to provide peer support for trans teenagers and young adults.”

Challenges in everyday life

Being trapped in a wrong body, Mak has always faced difficulties in his daily life.

Wearing female school uniform was one of the challenges during his school life.

It was not an easy battle since he studied in a Christian secondary school. His mother had to negotiate with his teachers and he needed to be assessed by a doctor.

Mak was finally able to dress in a male uniform when he was in Form Five, but he was not allowed to go to boys’ toilet even in his male uniform.

Dressing like a tomboy is not what Mak wants. “I want to be a man but not a tomboy. The latter is just a girl wearing male clothes,” he says.

“I want to be a man but not a tomboy. The latter is just a girl wearing male clothes.”

Apart from troubles encountered at school, he was also once offended at work.

He worked as a part-time bartender in January 2020. At first, everything went well. His co-workers addressed him as a man. But their attitude changed after the first week.

“My colleagues teased me by asking if I am a man or a woman. They thought I was a weirdo because I went to a male toilet,” Mak says.

He later found out his manager and co-workers gossiped about his gender. His employment application form which included his biological sex and other personal data, was shared among his colleagues without his consent.

“I think their behaviour is disrespectful, and it shows that the public lack understanding of transgender,” Mak says.

According to the Immigration Department, in order to change the gender entry on one’s identity card, one has to complete sex re-assignment surgery and only bottom surgeries would be counted.

But Mak does not find it necessary to undergo bottom surgeries at this moment.

Only 5.6 per cent of the transgender respondents had changed the sex entry on their identity cards, according to the largest transgender survey conducted by the Chinese University of Hong Kong and the Transgender Resource Center.

The future of Quarks

Looking ahead, Mak says he will register Quarks as a charity.

“I want to have long-term planning and ensure wider acceptance for our organization in the future,” he says.

Gathering of Quarks core members
(Photo Courtesy of Liam Mak Wai-hon)

For now, Quarks raises public awareness of transgender on social media and holds events for trans youth as a registered society under the Societies Ordinance.

“Our recent events include Diversity Hub, where three marginalised groups of people — transgender, ethnic minorities, and deaf people — come together for interactive workshops to embrace diversity and foster connection between communities,” Mak says.

“We plan to publish a book about experiences of being transgender and organise monthly reading club for them to share opinions,” he says.

“With Quarks and hormone medication, I am more relaxed and gain more confidence in myself. I care less about how others think of me and shift the focus back on myself now,” he adds.

Edited by Angel Woo
Sub-edited by Winkie Ng

Long for Reunion

March 16, 2022

Families separated by the pandemic hope for border reopening.

Cynthia Chan

Working in Xiamen, a city in Fujian province, Chen Yihua has not seen his family in Hong Kong for two years. Before the pandemic, he would return home every two week to see his wife and daughters, who are working and studying in Hong Kong.

“My elder daughter graduated from secondary school and entered university last year. My younger daughter grew from 155 cm to 160 cm tall. She is becoming a teenager. We are growing apart, yet I still cannot see them,” the 52-year-old father sighs.

Separated from his wife and daughters since early February 2020, Chen and his mother, who stays in the Mainland, miss their family in Hong Kong.

“My 87-year-old mother is in poor health. She always asks when my children will visit her,” the merchandiser says.

“She could not hold her tears when she saw her grandchildren in a video call this Chinese New Year. It does not feel like Chinese New Year without the whole family,” Chen adds.

Chen Yihua’s daughter in Hong Kong is having a video call with her father, who is now in mainland China.

While many countries are coexisting with COVID-19, China is one of the few countries adopting “Zero COVID” policy.

But Chen questions the logic of the policy. “China should take reference from Singapore’s border control policy. Achieving community immunity is the right way to combat the virus,” Chen says.

The Long Wait for Reunion

Chen’s family is not alone. Form three student Hannah Cheng Zihan has not seen her father for a year. The 14-year-old girl came to Hong Kong from Shenzhen with her mother in 2019 while her father stayed to work.

Before the pandemic, Cheng’s father travelled to Hong Kong every day. Now, they can only stay in touch by phone calls and text messages. Cheng misses the physical interaction with her family.

“I can only see my dad on screen, but I cannot touch him or hug him. I am worried we will become distant after being apart for so long,” she says.

“I can only see my dad on screen, but I cannot touch him or hug him. I am worried we will become distant after being apart for so long.”

This year’s Chinese New Year is Cheng’s first time spending the festival without her family.

“I feel lonely and I miss my family. We used to have dinner in Shenzhen to celebrate Chinese New Year. But we could not this year, as my school holiday is too short due to having quarantine,” Cheng says.

Hong Kong citizens travelling to the Mainland must undergo a 21-day quarantine, according to an announcement from Guangdong provincial government on December 31, 2021.

Strict quarantine requirement is imposed based on the China’s “Zero COVID” policy for visitors to enter the Mainland.

“My relatives in the Mainland always tell us they miss us and my grandparents at home long to see us. I feel sad that I cannot see them too,” she adds.

Cheng is also worried about getting along with them after the long separation. She hopes to return to the Mainland as soon as possible. “The travel restrictions are too strict. I hope the government can shorten the quarantine period,” she says.

The Pains and Cries Neglected

In view of the situation of cross-border families, the Society for Community Organisation (SoCO) has been helping more than 1,000 families since 2021 by negotiating with the government.

They held a press conference with grassroot families on December 12, 2021, urging the government to reserve quotas for reuniting families and people with special needs when borders reopen.

Sze Lai-shan, the deputy director of the organisation, says they are offering them financial and legal assistance.

“We are helping One-way Permit holders to extend their stay in Hong Kong,” she says.

One-way Permit is a document issued by the Chinese government, allowing residents of the Mainland to live in Hong Kong or Macau.

Sze says some have quitted their jobs in Hong Kong to reunite with their families in the Mainland, while some are suffering from financial plight, especially single-parent families.

According to a report about the impact of the pandemic to cross-border families conducted by SoCO in May 2021, over 80 per cent of respondents were extremely depressed due to reduced income and class suspension.

“The Hong Kong government said it was none of their business but rather that of the mainland government. The border control policy is too rigid without considering the cross-border families. The Hong Kong government should communicate better with the central government,” Sze says.

Edited by Winkie Ng
Sub-edited by Kajal Aidasani

Shopping Green

March 16, 2022

More consumers buy used clothes from second-hand shops.

Yap Ying-ye

Going one step further

High school student Chiara Jeong started running an online Instagram shop selling her second-hand clothes four years ago. Her account has about 2,500 followers.

“I started my shop because I had many clothes I had never worn and I wanted to make some money. After doing research about fast fashion, I find that waste problem in the fashion industry is serious. That is why I also use my online shop to promote sustainability.”, she says.

Jeong explains problems caused by fast fashion on Instagram to promote second-hand clothes and to raise public awareness about the importance of environmental protection.

Chiara Jeong uses her online shop to promote sustainability.
(Photo courtesy of Chiara Jeong)

Hong Kong generates an average of 392 tonnes of textile waste every day, about 50 per cent of which is estimated to be clothing, according to the Environmental Protection Department’s Statistics Units in 2020.

“Judging from my business, I think consumers are more eco-friendly when buying clothes. I have gained roughly 400 customers and have made around 900 sales over the past four years,” she says.

Going second-hand

Sharing the same view with Jeong, University student Kelly Wong started to buy second-hand two years ago because of sustainability and cheaper prices.

“I once found a high quality second-hand floral dress for just HKD $20 (USD $3). It looks just as good as new,” Wong says.

She thinks second-hand shopping is gaining popularity in Hong Kong.

“Some key opinion leaders in Hong Kong talk about cute clothes they have found at second-hand stores. My friends and I also like to go thrifting together,” Wong says.

Many Hong Kong YouTubers, such as Pomato with about 436,000 subscribers and Yaki Wong with about 236,000 subscribers, have made videos promoting second-hand clothing stores to their audience.

“I think this is good as it breaks down misconceptions about second-hand clothing. It is wrong to see second-hand clothing as dirty and clothes for the poor,” Wong says.

“I think this is good as it breaks down misconceptions about second-hand clothing. It is wrong to see second-hand clothing as dirty and clothes for the poor”

Changing attitudes, persisting problem

Tiffany Wong Nga-yung, who has operated an online and a physical second-hand clothing shop for two years also thinks buying second-hand clothes has become a trend.

“People are more eco-conscious nowadays, especially since being environmentally friendly has become something cool and trendy amongst younger people,” Wong says.

Ninety-five per cent of respondents aged under 35 purchased second-hand products, according to a purchasing habits study conducted by Carousell, an online platform for exchanging second-hand goods and The Interactive Advertising Bureau of Southeast Asia and India, a non-profit organization, in 2021.

The poll surveyed a total of 3,500 consumers in Singapore, Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia and Hong Kong.

The findings also show respondents aged under 35 cared more about environmental issues, such as sustainability and climate change when compared with those aged over 35.

But Wong says overconsumption remains a problem. Her shop had to stop collecting used clothes until December 2021, as the amount was too overwhelming.

“We offer a wardrobe clean-out service where we collect unwanted second-hand clothing from customers for reselling. But we had to stop the service because there were too many clothes to sort through,” Wong says.

“It takes time photographing and modeling the clothes collected, as well as waiting for customers to purchase,” she adds.

Tiffany Wong Nga-yung’s second hand store offers a wardrobe clean-out service for customers’ unwanted clothes.
(Photo courtesy of Tiffany Wong Nga-yung)

Wong advises consumers to think of new ways to style their clothes, instead of throwing them away.

“If you only have one picture in your mind, you might not be able to find what you want from second-hand shops. Sometimes, second-hand items will surprise you.” Wong says.

Looking Ahead

Ki Chung-wha, assistant professor from the Institute of Textiles and Clothing of the Hong Kong Polytechnic University, says the shift in attitude towards second-hand shopping is because of easier access to second-hand clothing.

“Thanks to technological developments, many online platforms such as Facebook marketplaces have been set up for second-hand trading,” Ki says.

“People used to have misconceptions about second-hand shopping, which is seen to be related to people with low economic status. Online platforms allow people to feel more comfortable trading second-hand goods,” she adds.

Ki thinks consumers should buy less and support the second-hand market and circular fashion, which means having sustainable production to reduce waste.

“We cannot control consumer’s purchasing habits, so we need more education and campaigns to raise awareness amongst consumers,” she adds.

Edited by Winkie Ng
Sub-edited by Leung Pak-hei

Modern slavery in China: Overwork Culture

March 15, 2022

IT talents lament their life of toil.

Kossy Chen

Working 12 hours a day without overtime payment for six years, Elva Lei, a 38-year-old IT manager, has to attend online meetings even after 11 p.m. when she is home.

“I feel exhausted. I find it very difficult to balance work and family. I have more work after my promotion six years ago,” the mother of a two-year-old daughter says.

“When I have late-night meetings at home, my child wakes up when she hears me talking. My husband then fights with me,” she sighs.

Working until 2 a.m. with less than six hours of sleep is her routine.

Lei suffered from insomnia two years ago when she was pregnant, often thinking about work affairs after midnight.

She also suffered from postpartum depression after giving birth. “I often forgot what I wanted to say and cried secretly in the office because of work stress,” she recalls.

She wants to find another job. “But I am almost 40, It is difficult for me to find a better job that suits me,” she says.

Elva Lei has late-night meetings and work at home.
(Photo courtesy of Elva Lei)

A New Mode of Labour Time Control

The International Labour Organization set out the principle of the 40-hour workweek, with a maximum of eight hours per day as an international norm in 1919.

This rule also came into effect in the Labour Law of the People’s Republic of China on May 1, 1995.

But the guideline on working hours has been gradually replaced by the “996” working hour system, which is practiced by many Chinese internet and technology companies, meaning employees work from 9 am to 9 pm, six days a week.

On April 11, 2019, the former executive chairman of Alibaba Group, Jack Ma, gave a speech about the system to his employees in a meeting.

“Today China’s BAT (Baidu, Alibaba, Tencent) adopt” 996” . I think it is a blessing on us. If you do not put in more efforts and time than others, how can you achieve success?” he says.

Critics like Jenny Wang points out that the 996 working hour system is a violation of Chinese labour law and calls it “modern slavery.”

According to a report released in January 2021 by 36kr, a China-based publishing and data company, only 10 per cent out of over 4,000 young people surveyed said they never work overtime and did not respond to work messages after office hours.

Fake Experience of Freedom

Some companies take the initiative to reduce work hours. Giant tech company ByteDance abandoned its “big and small week” work arrangement from August 1, 2021.

Employees used to work six days a week ,two times a month. Now they all have Saturdays off. Many other internet companies have followed suit.

Despite the policy change, Sophia Zhang, 25, still thinks it is a losing battle for workers to fight against long working hours.

“I still go to work on Saturdays voluntarily because overtime payment is quite high and I want to make more money. Also, I want to get promotions,” Zhang, who has been working at ByteDance for two years, says.

“I often go home after 10 p.m. I can claim taxi fees from the company when I leave the office after 10 p.m., and sometimes I work at home until 2 to 3 a.m.,” she says.

Sophia Zhang eats a quick lunch before busy work in the afternoon.
（Photo courtesy of Sophia Zhang）

Zhang suffers from endocrine disorder because of long working hours. “I only get my period once every two or three months. I want to go out on weekends, but I don’t know where to go. It seems I have lost my passion for life,” she adds.

“I only get my period once every two or three months. I want to go out on weekends, but I don’t know where to go. It seems I have lost my passion for life.”

Rebuilding Self-worth

Former Bytedance employee Leon Zhang, who was also overworked, resigned from the giant tech company in 2020 to start a new life.

The 26-year-old IT talent joined a small company working on knowledge-sharing platforms instead.

“If overwork is inevitable, I will only work for a company in which I can explore my full potential. I felt depressed and mentally tortured when working aimlessly every day in my previous post,” he says.

“If overwork is inevitable, I will only work for a company in which I can explore my full potential. I felt depressed and mentally tortured when working aimlessly every day in my previous post.”

He worked more than 12 hours each day at Bytedance and had no time for dating and rest.

“We had to respond to messages from our supervisors even when we were home. There was no difference between staying at home or being in the office, “he adds.

Zhang acknowledges that his former employer tries to cultivate their can-do attitudes by challenging their limits. But he did not feel a sense of achievement when he worked there.

“My current job is to pass on knowledge and values to the public, which is meaningful and gives me a sense of self-value,” he says.

Combatting Overwork

Ma Liang, a professor from the Public Administration Faculty at the Renmin University of China, believes overwork is a systematic problem in China.

He points out overwork is a reflection of “involution” (內卷), which is a buzzword broadly used to describe meaningless competitions in China.

“I don’t think individual employees can resist this ongoing trend, as giant companies have strong bargaining power and the government does not want to affect economic growth by strictly enforcing labour protection laws,” Ma says.

“Some individuals even enjoy overwork because they want financial independence and early retirement is popular among entrepreneurs,” he continues.

“However, given the increasing salience of maternity policy in the upcoming years, governments may urge companies to implement more employee-friendly measures, and overwork might be addressed to some extent,” he adds.

Sub-edited by Kajal Aidasani

Scent of Darkness

March 15, 2022

A blind man gets his life back with a fragrance company.

Phoebe Chu

Holding his guide dog, Wan Tsz-Yin sets off to his fragrance company. From Tuen Mun to Prince Edward, his flurry companion Remy accompanies him, so that he can walk faster to catch a bus without hitting obstacles along the way.

“Remy now stays home during the pandemic to avoid infection. So sometimes I have to go to work alone,” say Wan, whose left eye has blurred vision and his right eye is completely blind.

At 10:00 am, the 32-year-old fragrance company founder starts doing measurements and mixing essential oils of different flavors together with cream to create products with different functions.

“I can easily tell the smell of lavender and orange, but I always mix up pine and cedar. It takes time to remember all the scents I work with,” he says.

Wan’s company has six products including aroma oil, lipsticks, hand cream and mask diffusers. Anti-allergy hand cream is the best seller.

Accurate measurement is the key to making aroma oil. But it is a difficult task for Wan and his colleagues.

As the concentration of essential oils varies in different products, the speed of adding them has to be adjusted. Wan says his team has spent a lot of time looking for the best apparatus for accurate measurement.

“Most of my colleagues are only left with around 10% of their eyesight. We use small droppers to have better control of the amount of essential oil added. Colleagues who have better vision do measurement while others pack products,” Wan says.

“We also have to hire someone from an accountant firm to handle paperwork for our company registration, as all of us cannot read due to eyesight problems,” Wan says.

Stalls set up by Wan and his team at a secondary school to sell and promote their products
(Photo Courtesy of Wan Tsz-Yin)

A Sudden Heavy Blow

Wan was not born blind. In 2008, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor that pinched his nerve, causing his blindness. He was 19.

“I was admitted to a hospital for a few months. I did not expect that I would be blind at that time,” he says.

Wan recalled his whole world turned “black in color” when he stepped out of the hospital.

“I felt like I was a burden to my family. I stayed home most of the time for the first six months after being discharged. I felt worthless as I could not take care of myself. I could not even eat on my own. I cried every day,” he says.

His family sought help from some non-governmental organizations (NGOs) which offers help to people with eyesight problems.

“People there (NGOs) taught me some basic life skills such as taking showers and dining. I started learning how to take care of myself,” Wan recalls.

Wan says it took him three to four years to accept the fact that he is blind and move on.

He started joining different rehabilitation courses in the same year, such as learning how to be a visually impaired massage therapist.

“But I still did not know what I could do in the future at that time. I wondered if massage therapist was the only thing I could do,” Wan says.

Data from Census and Statistics Department of Hong Kong Government shows that the unemployment rate among people with eyesight difficulty in 2021 was 88.8 per cent.

There were about 47,600 people in Hong Kong who had eyesight difficulty, accounting for 0.6 per cent of the Hong Kong population in 2021.

A New Career Path

Wan eventually did not work as a massage therapist and founded his fragrance company in 2021.

“My friend asked me to use lavender aroma oil to put myself into a good sleep when I came across some family problems back in 2016,” Wan says.

After using fragrance products for six years, he joined a fragrance making course and a teacher there joined her students to set up their fragrance company.

“I think it might be a new career path for the visually impaired, so I want to give it a try and see if it works out for me. That is how I started my company,” he says.

Wan is also thinking about starting his own social enterprise, offering more job opportunities to people with eyesight problems to work together.

“I hope it can provide a working environment for people with visual difficulty where they do not have to worry about making mistakes and being discriminated. A workplace that will help them thrive,” Wan says.

Sub-edited by Leung Pak-hei

You May Say I’m A Dreamer – Editor’s Note

March 15, 2022

A career in the entertainment industry has always fascinated many people. Many of them decided to put in determined efforts to pursue their dreams of being on stage.

Our Periscope section follows the stories of passionate youngsters as they aspire to become singers. Hong Kong’s popular reality show King Maker has inspired many Hongkongers to strive to become the city’s next popular idol, while many others have attended training by South Korean entertainment groups as they fight for fame.

This issue of Varsity also explores many other interesting issues and phenomena, from the rise of takeaway food in Hong Kong amid the Covid-19 pandemic and social media detox, to the Chinese government’s anti-scam app and its crackdown on erotic novels.

Have an enjoyable read!

Leung Pak-hei

Chief Editor

Stop Working Hard, ‘Lie Flat’

March 15, 2022

Young people “lie flat” to fight against rat race.

Iris Jiang

Lisa Yiu*, a year two student studying childhood education at the Education University of Hong Kong, has decided to “lie flat” due to exhaustion from hard work and competition with classmates.

“My grades worsened no matter how hard I tried, so I decided to adopt a ‘lying flat’ lifestyle,” the higher diploma student says, adding that she finds the grading system not transparent and it is not worth the effort to get better grades.

“Lying flat” is a lifestyle which promotes doing the minimum for a living. Yiu takes it as a fightback against society’s pressure to perform well. She is content with her current situation and refuses to overwork.

“I still want to learn. But I will not burn the midnight oil for schoolwork anymore,” the student says.

“The government just does not understand us. There is no use in condemning us or telling us not to ‘lie flat’ unless they actually do something to make us feel hopeful,” she adds.

Hong Kong Government’s Response

The Education Bureau released an article on its official website on November 28, 2021 stating the recent emergence of “lying flatism” is worrying. It also stated that this kind of negative mentality could easily make people decadent and would hinder the progress of society in the long run.

In a written reply to Varsity, a bureau spokesperson says: “One of the major emphases in the curriculum framework is adding “diligence” to the existing list of values and attitudes.” These values also include perseverance, national identity and law-abidingness.

“Diligence does not mean overworking, but a time-honoured positive value which can motivate students to work hard since childhood,” the reply states.

Hong Kong’s Education Bureau added “diligence” into values education in November 2021.

From Appearing to Disappearing

The buzzword “lying flat” sprang up when a 31-year-old jobless man Luo Huazhong released his article “‘Lying Flat’ is Justice” on Baidu Tieba, an online platform that gathers people with common interests by searching keywords, in April 2021.

Luo shared how he lived in his comfort zone while being unemployed for two years. “It doesn’t feel wrong…’Lying flat’ is my wiseman philosophy,” he wrote in the article.

The idea of “lying flat” promotes: “Don’t buy property and a car. Don’t get married. Don’t have children. Don’t consume.”

In response to the “lying flat” lifestyle, Nanfang Daily, a Chinese state media, published an article entitled “Lying Flat is Shameful, There is Nothing to Feel Righteous About” on May 20, 2021. The article accused negative emotions spread by “lying flat” practitioners while encouraging the public to be confident about their future.

“It is necessary to prevent the stagnation of social classes…and form an environment for improvement in which everyone participates, avoiding involution and ‘lying flat’,” wrote the Chinese President Xi Jinping on October 15, 2021 in Qiushi, the leading official journal on political theory of the Chinese Communist Party.

As the state media has made their position clear, Luo’s article was removed by censors, “lying flat” discussion groups in Chinese social media were shut down and the search function for the term has been disabled.

Finding Comfort Zone

Though the Chinese government tried to suppress discussions, Taiwanese businessman Mark Zheng* set up a Facebook group entitled “Lying Flatism” on June 20, 2021. The group promotes “lying flat” lifestyles with over 100 members, mainly from Taiwan.

Cover of Mark Zheng’s Facebook group “Lying Flatism”.
(Photo courtesy of Mark Zheng)

“I want to provide a safe and comfortable platform for people to express their opinion,” Zheng says. He has observed that many have been complaining about pressure from work. He thinks that “lying flat” is a kind of spiritual resistance to rat races and the exploitation from employers.

Zheng only works one hour a day on average in an international trade company, with a monthly salary around 40,000 Taiwan dollars (US$1410). He brands himself as a “‘lying flat’ practitioner”.

“I am content with my life and I do not think that I need to work harder,” the 36-year-old businessman says, adding that everyone can choose whatever lifestyle he or she wants.

Making it Discussible

To show support for the “‘lying flat’ lifestyle”, Zhang Jiumin*, a Chinese independent songwriter, released a song “Lying Flat Is Kingly Way” on Weibo and YouTube. The song lists some benefits of “lying flat” such as preventing burning out and maintaining people’s physical and mental health.

Video cover of Zhang Jiumin’s song “Lying Flat Is Kingly Way”.
(Photo courtesy of Zhang Jiu-min)

Despite being removed from Weibo, a popular social media platform in China, he keeps posting the song by not using sensitive words such as “lying flat” in his description to avoid censorship.

“I just want more people to listen to my song. It is written from the bottom of my heart. Although ‘lying flat’ is not a mainstream value, it should still be discussed,” Zhang says.

Lau Siu-lun, a lecturer of Sociology in the Chinese University of Hong Kong, points out that “lying flatism” is not a new idea, citing the “Beat Generation” from the United States in the 1950s and the “Low-Desire Society” concept from Japan in the 1990s as examples.

“Living costs increase with economic development, while pay rise fails to catch up. The Chinese working class in first-tier cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou and Shengzhen find it less rewarding to live and work in these competitive places,” he explains.

Lau points out that people feel stressed when they work for long hours but still cannot afford housing property, while the price of daily commodities keeps rising.

“I think some of them will just give up their regular jobs in first-tier cities and return to their hometown or other second or third-tier cities to enjoy a more relaxing lifestyle,” Lau says.

*Names changed at interviewees’ request.

Edited by Leung Pak-hei
Sub-edited by Kajal Aidasani