Although air conditioners across China are humming to life as the summer heat begins to climb, the folding fan that was once pushed to the margins of daily life is reappearing in subway cars, museum shops and tourist streets.
Once associated mainly with traditional aesthetics or seasonal nostalgia, the bamboo-and-silk folding fan is again being picked up by younger consumers as a functional accessory and a form of cultural expression.
At the 22nd China (Shenzhen)International Cultural Industries Fair in Guangdong province in May, bamboo folding fans made by Mingde — a traditional brand that is based in Guangde, Anhui province, and has a production process that requires dozens of steps per fan — drew large crowds.
Meanwhile, in Yiwu, Zhejiang province, officially licensed Portuguese national soccer team folding fans are currently rolling off production lines, bound for global markets as the 2026 FIFA World Cup prepares to kick off.
A traditional Chinese folding fan consists of two sections: the ribs, typically carved from bamboo, and the fan surface, often made of silk or mulberry bark paper.
Unlike mass-produced plastic fans, each piece is hand-assembled, with the ribs radiating from a single rivet — allowing the fan to fold flat into a sleeve or snap open with a single flick of the wrist. The surface is often painted with landscapes, calligraphy or birds and flowers, turning a functional object into a portable work of art.
"It is a small, mobile art gallery," Zheng Zhigang, an art critic with a doctorate in history (archaeology) from Nanjing University, said about the charm of the traditional Chinese folding fans.
"It contains paintings, calligraphy, poetry and seals, all within a frame of a few inches. Yet you can hold it, touch it, open it and close it, share it with a friend. That intimacy is something no other art form offers," he said.
Sun Yaqing, chairwoman of Hangzhou's 151-year-old fan producer Wangxingji, sees the same cultural depth in the fans' physical construction. "The ribs are made of bamboo. In Chinese culture, bamboo represents humility, integrity and resilience," Sun said. "When a scholar held a fan, he was reminding himself of those virtues."
And then there is the fan's signature gesture — opening and closing.
"There is life wisdom in that. Knowing when to expand, when to withdraw. The fan brings you not just a natural breeze, but a spiritual comfort," she added.
Sun attributes the rekindled interest in traditional folding fans to changing consumer values, the rise of guochao (a youth-driven wave of pride in traditional Chinese aesthetics), and a growing global appetite for objects with rich backstories.
"People used to buy fans to cool down. Now they buy them because they look good, because they carry culture, because they want something to share," she noted, adding that the fan has become a product of culture, emotion and social connection.
As summer heats up, Sun has been busier than ever. Her fans have been selected as the official souvenirs for various major events, and international guests can't seem to get enough of them.
"They pause to admire the smooth bamboo ribs, the hand-painted landscapes, the faint tea aroma from our 'tea-scented fans', and want to know the stories behind each piece," she said.
Wangxingji now exports to more than 40 countries and regions, and Sun has noticed clear patterns. Japanese buyers prefer plain bamboo fans for tea ceremonies. European customers seek silk fans as wall art or fashion accessories. Middle Eastern collectors favor heavy, ornate fans with gold foil.
Sun believes the folding fan is no longer just a seasonal tool. "It is a message — folded, carved, painted and ready to be opened," she said.
