The Freedom to Be Contradictory
If your Instagram is anything like mine, you will have seen pictures of Seoul by night and day—the neon signs, the convenience stores, the gacha stores, and not to forget all the pop-ups and skincare boutiques. Korea does capitalism on another level. The special editions, urging you to buy this unique style of item that will only be sold here, or this week, in a limited quantity. Convenience stores on every corner, open 24/7, shops that close at 10 p.m.—very much in contrast to what I'm used to in Europe.
While some designs and aesthetics follow very minimalist or traditional forms, others go all out on the kitsch of "cuteness" and personification in the form of little animals, mascots, or inanimate objects with eyes or limbs. While in Europe or the US some things are clearly categorized as "for kids", the line is fluid here. Military soldiers sporting their Pokémon keychain on their backpack, Labubus on Birkins—there are no rules here that only children get to do this. It also sells on all sorts of items. Olive Young, the big and famous beauty and lifestyle hub, comparable to dm in Germany or Boots in the UK (minus the pharmaceuticals), has a collab with Pokémon this year in honor of the franchise's 30th anniversary. Some items that are part of the collab come with cute Pokémon characters on the packaging or special branded giveaways. And this works. While I totally love this marketing strategy and am a fan, I'd claim that in Europe this would not necessarily be a sales pusher. People care more about the content and would probably categorize products decorated with Pokémon as "for kids".
Memorable was the "Ichiban, lipstick for men" incident I witnessed. This is a reference to the Friends episode (Season 10, Episode 6) in which Joey appears in a Japanese "lipstick for men" commercial.
A group of three soldiers in uniform were riding the subway when one pulled out his "lip balm". It was a silver lipstick case, with a mechanism I know from my own lipsticks. He pushed the lipstick, and with a pop-up mechanism, the stick emerged from the bottom. He applied it expertly and put it back in his bag. Nothing unusual, except for the fact that back home none of the guys I know would want to be caught dead using one. I'd almost bet they'd read this passage and not even understand the mechanism I just described. The packaging would be deemed "too female". In Korea, I felt that men and women were equally concerned about their looks when it came to vanity and skincare. It also wasn't uncommon to spot a man carrying a handbag—whereas in Europe or the US this would be less likely. (There's also a Friends episode called "The One with Joey's Bag" (Season 5, Episode 13), for those who care.) Though maybe I'm generalizing from Seoul to the countryside. I recount what I've observed—which comes with a bias—so correct me if I'm wrong.
I appreciate how, at least for these kinds of things, there seem to be "no rules". Korean language, society, food, and culture have plenty of rules, don't get me wrong. The different degrees of formal and informal expressions are astounding and complex for anyone attempting to learn the language. However, for the "inner child" and personal style, there seem to be fewer rules and fewer strict decisions to be made.
We tend to categorize the world we perceive. We put people, things, and situations into boxes and have trouble when something doesn't fit. Recently, I had lunch with a business acquaintance who also does CrossFit. We were discussing heavy lifts and dropping the barbell. Then we switched to Korea and food, and I mentioned how much I love Hello Kitty and the like. Five minutes later, he said aloud, "I can't wrap my head around someone liking Hello Kitty and lifting heavy." Not everything is linear, but to a middle-aged Swiss man, this may seem puzzling. Maybe that's what I enjoyed most about Korea: the feeling that those categories mattered a little less.
