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For Fiona, Xiamen is now home. She and Chan own a 90-year-old house on Gulangyu, an island near the city that was once the playground of the Cibanis' 19th century antecedents: Western merchants and diplomats who came in an earlier wave of globalization. The house, abandoned to an encroaching jungle in the 1950s, is an imposing Beaux Arts château with an elaborately terraced garden. Like the Cibanis, it's out of place in China and yet somehow perfectly at home. Fiona has spent four years restoring it to its former glory, importing Italian marble for the floors and commissioning Chinese ironwork.
Tia, for her part, is more focused on setting up a life for herself in New York City. She has a new showroom overlooking the Hudson River; the same logic that drew her to China—that living among your customers is key—means she'll be spending more time there. But walking through the twilight among Gulangyu's decayed mansions, where East and West blend with grace, she looks a bit wistful.
"I've never themed one of my collections on Xiamen's past. Our Chinese customers didn't like things that looked obviously Chinese," she says. "Now I really get to express myself. So Xiamen could become my inspiration."