In the historical drama The Mo (家业), actress Yang Zi plays a character named Li Zhen (李祯). She wears several pairs of earrings that look strikingly simple yet elegant. Believe it or not, this style of earring was a massive trend six centuries ago. Some excavated artifacts show details so fine that even today’s jewelers struggle to match them. What made these tiny ornaments so irresistible to ancient women?
The answer lies in their shape: the gourd. During the Ming Dynasty, gourd-shaped earrings were not just pretty accessories. They were essential pieces of a woman’s formal headwear, worn during important ceremonies and celebrations. These earrings tell a story of craftsmanship, social status, and deep cultural hopes.
Twin Designs
Historical records and unearthed relics confirm two main styles of these gourd earrings. The first is the “large tower-shaped gourd ring.” It typically used four or five pearls strung together with gold wire. On top, artisans added a tiny spire or small floral leaves made of metal. The effect was like a miniature golden pagoda hanging from the ear. The second style was simpler: a “natural gourd” shape. It followed the actual curves of a gourd, with a round lower bulb and a smaller upper bulb, connected by a delicate waist. This version felt more organic and playful compared to the formal tower design.
For Li Zhen’s earrings in The Mo, she wears a piece that closely resembles many museum artifacts. The body is pure white, likely carved from pearl or jade. At the top, a tiny golden gourd leaf spreads out like a cap. Below it, two round beads dangle to form the gourd’s twin lobes. Where the two beads meet—the “waist” of the gourd—the craftsman added a thin ring made of minuscule gold beads. A small gold leaf supports the bottom. That tiny ring at the waist is the real marvel. You almost need a magnifying glass to see how each bead was placed individually.
Why did the Ming Dynasty favor these two distinct forms? One reason was versatility. The tower-shaped style suited formal court events where elaborate dress was expected. The natural gourd style worked for semi-formal gatherings and festive home celebrations. Both shapes, however, shared a common design language: they turned a simple fruit into a symbol of elegance.
Gold and Jade
The earrings worn by Li Zhen showcase a classic gold-inlaid jade technique. Hollow jade gourds framed in gold are common in Ming artifacts. Gold shines brilliantly, representing wealth and power. Jade feels cool and smooth to the touch, standing for moral purity and grace. When placed together, these two materials create a perfect visual balance. But the combination was more than just beautiful. Ancient people believed that wearing gold and jade together would attract both material fortune and spiritual clarity. It was a wearable prayer for a balanced life.
Beyond gold and jade, there was an even more complex method: filigree. This traditional Chinese goldsmith technique was among the most delicate in the world. The process began by pulling gold or silver into hair-thin wires. Then the wires were twisted into braided cords or woven into floral patterns. Finally, the intricate wire shapes were soldered onto the base of the earring. Each step required steady hands and years of training. A single mistake could melt the entire structure. The result, however, looked like frozen lace—light, airy, and impossibly detailed.
Materials varied widely depending on the wearer’s social rank. Wealthy noblewomen used pure gold with large pearls or rare colored jade. Upper-class merchants’ wives might choose silver-gilt with crystal or agate. Commoners, if they owned such earrings at all, often wore versions made of pewter or horn dyed to look like more expensive materials. But the gourd shape remained constant across all classes. This shared design connected women from different walks of life under a single cultural symbol.
Royal Dowry
The gourd earring was so popular that it even became part of imperial wedding rituals. According to the Collected Statutes of the Ming Dynasty (大明会典), when the emperor took a bride, her official dowry included specific earring models. Alongside “eight-pearl rings” and “row rings,” the list mentioned “four-pearl gourd rings.” That means these tiny ornaments had the official approval of the imperial court. They were not just fashion; they were a signal of dynastic legitimacy and continuity. A bride wearing gourd earrings on her wedding day was literally wearing a wish for many sons and a long royal line.
Why the gourd? The answer lies in ancient agricultural symbolism. A classic Chinese phrase says: “Melon vines stretch far and wide; within a tiny gourd lives boundless blessings.” (瓜瓞绵延，方寸玲珑). The gourd plant produces massive numbers of seeds and grows fast-spreading vines. To a farming society, this represented endless descendants and unbroken family lines. Ming designers extracted that meaning and transformed it into jewelry. They carved jade gourds, cast gold gourds, and wove filigree gourds. The poet Lu You (陆游) of the Song Dynasty once wrote: “Though the gourd is small, it hides the whole universe inside, accompanying me through ten thousand miles of clouds.” His words captured the spiritual depth of this humble fruit.
Today, thanks to dramas like The Mo, this 600-year-old earring style has found a new audience. Li Zhen’s on-screen accessories are not decorative props. They are windows into a world where a tiny piece of jewelry could hold an empire’s hopes for prosperity. The next time you see a gourd-shaped pendant or earring, remember: it is not just a shape. It is a whisper from Ming Dynasty women who believed that good fortune, like gourd vines, never stops growing.