The People’s Republic of Desire

36 The Gold Diggers

Haidian District is Beijing 's college district. In Haidian, there is a popular belief that there are no beautiful female students at Tsinghua University, China 's answer to MIT. In order to break this stereotype of Tsinghua girls, the student association has organized a xuanmei, a beauty pageant. Many girls on campus want badly to prove they are beautiful as well as intelligent.

I travel to Tsinghua to report on the beauty contest. Immediately after I enter the gates of the university, two girls who have set up an outdoor stand to sell cosmetics catch my attention. Their stand has attracted many female students. One of the sales girls is dressed in black, with heavy black eyeliner and a thick forest of hair. She gives off the scent of perfume from head to toe. She looks far more fashionable than most of the candidates who are buying her stuff. Her name is Ah-Fei.

When Ah-Fei is being interviewed, she states right away that she and her friend are not students. They are here to make money off the Tsinghua girls. Ah-Fei is a bit shy, and most of the time her friend Ding Dong answers for her.

According to Ding Dong, because of the nature of their work, Ah-Fei and Ding Dong have an opportunity to meet many foreign and rich friends. They often receive gifts, and they have more makeup and perfume than they can use, so they have decided to sell their wares to college kids who are obsessed with beauty and famous brands but who can't afford to buy Chanel or Estée Lauder in China 's department stores.

I find my favorite Lancôme cosmetics in their collection. Whenever I walked into Macy's department store in the States, the first thing I would see was the Lancôme counter and the mysterious face of Juliette Binoche. Lancôme was expensive; nevertheless it was my choice. I liked Juliette Binoche's movies, Damage, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and The English Patient.

Uma Thurman, from the movies Henry and June and Pulp Fiction, was later the face of Lancôme. She is also one of my idols. Uma is a tall blonde who combines Marilyn Monroe's sexiness, Audrey Hepburn's elegance, and Meryl Streep's intelligence. Uma's eyes are as mysterious as Tibet.

Through Henry and Junes director, Philip Kaufman, a good friend of my mother's, I got an autograph from this blond beauty when I was studying in the United States.

At that time, my American classmates all liked Julia Roberts and Mariah Carey. There weren't many people who appreciated Uma. I am not a fan of Julia Roberts, who I think is an open book. I prefer the mysterious European type. I haven't had a chance to e-mail Philip Kaufman. I'd love to tell him that reading Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin is a new fashion among young Chinese female intellectuals, and his movies Henry and June and Quill were voted among the top ten must-see erotic movies by Chinese cybermovie fans.

"I love Lancôme!" I say.

Ah-Fei shrugs. "I don't like Lancôme."

"Why?" I am curious.

"I'm not interested in anything that's imported into China and available at Chinese stores," replies Ah-Fei snobbishly.

"Oh, I see." I nod.

"If we want something, we have our friends buy it for us from New York or Paris," she adds with an upturned nose.

"I see." I take a lipstick that Ah-Fei is selling, and look at it. There is a small sticker on the lid of the lipstick that reads "Nude No. 5," and then after that quite clearly are the words "Not for Individual Sale." This is a free giveaway from Lancôme!

I also notice that there are two bottles of Christian Dior Poison perfume, one classic Poison, the other Tendre Poison.

"Are they your extras, or you don't like Christian Dior either?" I ask.

Ding Dong answers for Ah-Fei. "All Chinese women are using Poison now. Sometimes on the bus there are several women wearing it. The good brands are coming down in price! No one with any class is using Poison anymore!"

"Does Ah-Fei wear perfume herself?"

"What girl doesn't wear perfume? Coco Chanel in the 1920s said a woman who doesn't wear perfume has no future. Of course, our Ah-Fei has the brands she likes. But the perfume she wears is certainly not for women who go to work by bus. Oh, yeah," Ding Dong turns to Ah-Fei. "What's the name of that brand of perfume you like?"

"Miyake."

"Issey Miyake? The Japanese designer's perfume?" I ask.

"Yes. The masses don't know Issey Miyake. It's too new for them."

I notice that one of the bottles of perfume Ah-Fei is selling is only half-full, and has obviously been used. But a girl buys it nevertheless. It is only ten yuan.

I ask Ding Dong, "What jobs do the two of you have that allow you to acquire such a nice collection of expensive cosmetics?"

"We're antique appraisers," she says proudly.

"Fashionable young women like you, why are you antique appraisers?" I humor them.

"In our business, we have a high-class clientele, either foreign, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong businessmen," Ding Dong smugly replies. "They're good candidates for spouses."

"So they give you these gifts for free?"

"Yes. If they want our honest comments on the antiques they have."

"Do you like the job?"

"It's a good way to meet men of quality." Ding Dong smiles.

"Are you guys bang dakuan, gold diggers?" I ask bluntly, waiting for their reaction.

"What's wrong with being a gold digger? All we want is a good husband." Ding Dong doesn't mind being called bang dakuan.

"What is considered a good husband?" I am curious what their definition is.

"A good husband should be tall and wealthy. He should come from overseas," Ah-Fei cuts in.

"What do you mean by wealthy?" My fieldwork continues.

"If you talk about possessions, they have to have the three C's: condo, car, and credit card," says Ding Dong.

"Four C's are even better!" Ah-Fei cuts in again.

"What is the fourth C?"

"CEO! Do you understand what it means? A new word in China!"

"Yes, I guess so."

"If we talk about annual income: six digits in U.S. dollars; over one million in renminbi; and over ten million Japanese yen," Ding Dong continues, explaining their interpretation of being wealthy.

Her answer reminds me of the popular new rhyme: "First-class girls marry the Americans; second-class girls marry the Japanese; third-class girls marry the Taiwanese or Hong Kongers; fourth-class girls marry the mainlanders.

"How can you attract such wealthy men?" I ask.

"First, we study foreign languages. We are multilingual: we can speak English, German, Japanese, and some Cantonese."

"Why not French? French is the language of romance!"

"French people are generally poor by our standards!"

"But Christian Dior, L'Oreal, Lancôme, and LV are all expensive French brands. I guess some Frenchman must have money," I say.

"Yes, but there is an opportunity cost. We'd rather spend more time brushing up on our Japanese. The chances of meeting a well-to-do Japanese man are higher," Ding Dong says.

"Okay, then what else?"

Ding Dong continues. "We learn to cook Chinese food and some other Chinese tricks like playing the Chinese flute or doing calligraphy. Men, Chinese or foreign, like women who can be both domestic and cultural."

"What about college education?"

"No. We don't have any college education." Ding Dong shakes her head.

"Do you admire the girls in Tsinghua then?"

"No way! We don't want to become nerds with Coke-bottle glasses. Instead of studying calculus, our textbook is How to Snare a Millionaire!" Ding Dong says.

On the way home, I think to myself, what if I start a company, buy the copyrights of how-to-marry-rich books from the West, and sell them in China. It would be good business.

BANG DAKUAN: Being gold diggers – one of the downsides of the success of the new market economy.

XUANMEI: Beauty pageant. Such practices are becoming increasingly popular in the new image-conscious China.

HAIDIAN DISTRICT: Beijing 's college district. Major colleges like Beijing University, People's University, and Tsinghua University are all located in this district.