A Font Born from Misunderstanding

The origins of the stereotypical “Chinese-looking” font go back to the early 20th century, when Western printers began designing typefaces that would “look Oriental” to Western audiences.

They used brushstroke-like strokes, squared-off serifs, and sharp corners meant to mimic Chinese calligraphy — but only visually, not linguistically. These fonts had nothing to do with real Chinese type design or traditional writing systems.

Fonts like “Wonton,” “Chop Suey,” and “Chinese Takeaway” (yes, those are real names) were created in the United States, designed by white typographers who wanted to evoke “exoticism” and “mystery.”

It wasn’t about communication — it was about aesthetic stereotype.

Typography as Costume

In Hollywood’s Golden Age, these fonts became shorthand for anything vaguely “Asian.”
Movie posters, restaurant signs, and even TV shows used them as visual cues: the letters themselves were a costume — a quick way to say “this is Chinese” without needing to understand the culture.

You didn’t need to read Chinese to “get it.” The font did the talking.

But here’s the problem: it wasn’t speaking Chinese — it was speaking American fantasy.

Designing Identity from the Outside In

Just like the so-called “African” fonts designed in the West, these “Chop Suey” typefaces compress an entire civilisation into a single visual trope.

They take the complex beauty of Chinese calligraphy — one of the world’s oldest and most revered art forms — and flatten it into a gimmick: angular, symmetrical, and conveniently “foreign.”

It’s the visual equivalent of using a gong sound in a movie whenever a Chinese character appears.
Instant recognition, zero understanding.

How It Persists Today

You might think we’ve outgrown this — but take a walk through any Western city’s “Chinatown,” or glance at the branding of an “Asian-fusion” restaurant, and you’ll still see it: that same stereotypical typeface, often paired with red and gold colouring.

It’s not always malicious, but it is lazy.
Designers reach for these fonts because they’ve been coded into visual culture for decades. They signal “Chinese” to Western audiences, even if they’re historically and culturally inaccurate.

Meanwhile, real Chinese typography has evolved with incredible sophistication — from elegant Songti typefaces to experimental Simplified Chinese Sans-serifs used in tech and fashion. Yet these authentic designs rarely make it into Western branding.

The Bigger Issue: Who Designs for Whom

This isn’t just about one typeface — it’s about power and perspective in design.
For centuries, Western media has been in the habit of defining other cultures visually — reducing entire identities into symbols that feel familiar to them.

When design is created about a culture rather than from within it, it tends to tell one story: the outsider’s.

And when those same visual clichés are used over and over, they stop being “design language” and start being stereotype.

Reclaiming Authentic Typography

Thankfully, there’s a growing movement of Chinese and East Asian designers pushing back.
Independent studios in Beijing, Shanghai, Taipei and Hong Kong are creating new typefaces that blend modern design with traditional calligraphy — fonts that reflect real cultural aesthetics, not caricatures of them.

Projects like Pangram Pangram’s collaborations with Chinese typographers and TypeLand China’s work on contemporary Chinese scripts are proving that global design doesn’t need to rely on outdated tropes to feel recognisable.

The future of typography is inclusive — and that means letting cultures design themselves.

Design Is Language — So Let’s Use It Responsibly

Fonts are more than decoration; they’re communication.
When a font pretends to represent an entire culture but is rooted in stereotype, it doesn’t just misinform — it diminishes.

It’s time designers ask tougher questions:
Who made this? Who is it for? And what story does it tell?

Because if the “Chinese” font was born in America, maybe it’s time we stop calling it Chinese — and start calling it what it really is: a Western fantasy of the East.

Typography tells stories. Let’s make sure they’re the right ones.