Intro:
In a small village north of Hanoi, pigments made from seashells, ash, and indigo were once pressed onto wooden blocks, printing stories onto rice paper. Among these tales, one painting stood apart: Đám Cưới Chuột — The Rat’s Wedding. A parade of rats approaches a regal cat, offering gifts of fish and songbirds. It is both a bribe and a blessing, a satire and a love letter to the rhythm of Vietnamese life.

A Fable in Fur and Whiskers
In The Rat’s Wedding, the cat reigns silently at the top of the frame — full-bodied, expressionless, all-knowing. The rats below perform their nervous ceremony, carrying gifts to appease power. For generations, this Đông Hồ woodblock print was more than decoration: it was commentary. The cat symbolized both authority and grace; a creature feared, respected, and, curiously, adored.

Unlike Western depictions of cats as aloof or mystical, Vietnamese art often rendered them as creatures of balance — mediators between worlds. Their presence in folk paintings mirrored the social hierarchies of village life: the powerful and the humble coexisting, each needing the other to survive. The cat, sleek and poised, becomes an emblem of discernment, a quiet observer of the human condition.

Between Fear and Reverence
For centuries, cats were integral to agrarian homes — guarding grain from pests, curling under ancestral altars. They lived alongside dogs not as rivals, but as complements: one guarding the exterior, the other protecting what lay within. In temples and homes alike, their duality — gentle yet sharp, solitary yet affectionate — became metaphors for wisdom and restraint.

Even in the Vietnamese zodiac, the cat replaces the Chinese rabbit — an adaptation that speaks volumes. Linguistically, Mão (rabbit in Chinese) sounds like mẹo (cat in Vietnamese), and so, by chance or fate, the cat was woven into the national cosmology. The Year of the Cat thus celebrates adaptability, intuition, and grace — all qualities we still admire in our companions today.

Art as Reflection, Art as Offering
Folk artists from Đông Hồ and Hàng Trống captured everyday beauty in small gestures: a cat’s arched back, a butterfly fluttering above it, a bowl offered beneath a shrine. These images weren’t merely decorative — they were prayers for harmony, longevity, and abundance. To hang a cat painting was to invite prosperity, serenity, and familial joy into the home.

The pigments themselves — ochres, river muds, crushed seashells — were as honest as the farmers and craftspeople who made them. Each print bore fingerprints of the maker, a meditation on patience and rhythm. In that slow, intentional process, care became visible — much like the rituals of feeding, grooming, and loving our pets today.

XENXEN’s Perspective — From Folklore to Form
At XENXEN, we see these traditions not as relics but as living inspiration. Our work honors the cat’s dual spirit: refined yet playful, ancient yet ever-new. Just as artisans once layered color upon woodblock, we layer silk, metal, and stone to craft objects of affection — collars, charms, and bowls that hold both beauty and meaning.

In the delicate curve of a pendant or the hand-stitched seam of a silk collar, the cat’s legacy reappears — quiet elegance balanced with subtle rebellion. Our creations whisper the same truth the old painters knew: love, when made by hand, endures beyond time.

Closing Line:
From the ink of folk tales to the gleam of modern craft, the cat remains what it has always been — not merely a companion, but a mirror of devotion, grace, and mystery.