An Insider’s Thoughts on
Seoul Fashion Week
Backstage interviews with Korea’s top fashion designers, running into Rosie Huntington-Whiteley with her bodyguards and partying with actor-model 배정남 (Bae Jung Nam)
Just a week’s worth of work.
I used to work at one of the top modeling and entertainment agencies in South Korea.
Every hopeful model in Korea lists it as one of their dream agencies, though few get accepted. Besides having gone through the audition process itself, I also ended up working at The Agency where I set up the auditions and prepped trainees on how to pass. I used to watch from the corner of the basement room where the auditions were held, and surreptitiously check the judges’ papers to see if they selected the trainees I had an eye on.
Over time, I became quite good at scouting model potential and still, for fun, I like to pick faces out of a crowd and ask if they’re models, just to see if I’m right.
At one point, I either personally knew or had attended events with some of the most influential players in Korea’s fashion industry, and still today, when I turn the pages of magazines, I smile now and then at the sight of a familiar face. It’s always interesting when I see the models gracing the covers of Vogue or Dazed Korea and remembering them from their pre-debut time; gangly, awkward girls who got re-shaped into poised mannequins by the countless hands that plucked and pressed them.
Photographers come out in hordes to snap photos of people at DDP during Seoul Fashion Week. If they’re lucky, they’ll have a chance to photograph somebody famous.
Sorry, boys. Just me this time.
Glamor and unattainable beauty at the cost of personal happiness.
There’s little, real glamor to the life of a model in Korea, but at the same time I admit that it’s incredibly alluring. I think Korea does a fantastic job of making the golden exteriors of idols and celebrities look extra shiny, and we all want to have a bit of sparkle for ourselves.
Though it is true everywhere in competitive industries, I think Korea is particularly sensitive to the power of good PR, an impeccable image and perfection. This is reflected in the society’s high beauty standards and social expectations. Multiply that with the innate competition of the fashion industry and you have a dystopian city filled with bright eyed, fragile, young men and women starving themselves for the chance to be dressed up in designer wear and admired by the masses.
though the heads of The Agency definitely tried to squash me into their preferred image. I was just not malleable enough.
“Becky has a strong personality,” they used to say, shaking their heads, as though it were a bad thing. I wasn’t sweet enough, androgynous enough or sexy enough to be packaged neatly. The CEO used to smile cat-like at me in the hallways when I passed, with her usual inquiry of, “have you lost weight?” and I’d nod vigorously in return, “yes, and I’ll lose more!” Though I never really did, despite a year of a sweet potato and coffee diet. But I did start to lose my hair.
When The Agency called to offer me a modeling contract and a job working in the management office, I couldn’t believe my luck. This was the dream I had moved to Seoul for. I used to lay awake at night in my dingy, 반지하 (half-basement) room, looking at photos of Soo Joo and Irene Kim, imagining myself walking the same runways.
I was never an especially good choice for a high-fashion model for Korea,
My first time watching Soo Joo and Irene on the runway at Seoul Fashion Week.
I worked at The Agency for a little over two years and had many experiences that made the ‘Devil Wears Prada’ seem quaint, but those are stories for another time.
Instead, we come to the event that truly opened my eyes to the underbelly of the fantastic world of beauty and glamor - Seoul Fashion Week! A week of glitz, celebrity-sightings and exclusive parties hosted around Cheongdam.
The Agency was trying its absolute most to break into the global scene. There were very few Korean models who had really achieved any success outside of Asia, but Seoul Fashion Week had started to gain a little more interest from Western media outlets, making it a rare chance for The Agency’s models, photographers, and designers to get noticed.
The months before fashion week started, we were hosting guests from Milan, New York, and Thailand, discussing possible collaborations with their models and influencers to make ours look more desirable. I was often invited into these meetings as an on-hand translator and example.
“This is one of our models,” my 이사님 (executive director) would say, gesturing at me, while the guests scanned me expertly from head to foot. “She’s half-Korean.”
The man from Thailand remarked, “she’d be big in our country. We love faces like hers.”
I smiled awkwardly while 이사님 laughed, “well, take her, then!”
Backstage with a model from Thailand. I was present in her meeting with The Agency when she signed, and helped her navigate Korean model agency life.
Though influencers and bloggers had already become a fixture in the high-fashion scene in the West, Korea was still behind on that form of marketing, which is funny to say now, seeing how Korea has so effectively weaponized social media. The Agency came up with the extremely last minute idea to fly in a few selected influencers and give them a V.I.P experience of Seoul Fashion Week - tickets to the most in-demand shows, photo-ops with models The Agency was hoping would get big overseas, and access to closets so that they could wear and give free exposure to new designers.
This grand plan fell upon me to execute because I could speak English and Korean. There wasn’t much other experience I had to show that I could pull this off.
“But how?” I said, feeling a bit of panic rise.
“Just contact people,” 이사님 said, looking at me with mild annoyance. “CEO has big plans for you. Don’t you want to prove yourself to her?”
That was her only advice. Which is how Korean companies often operate, even at the top level - work harder, not smarter.
어떻게든 되게 해. Whatever it takes, make it happen.
Backstage with a model friend who had not yet launched into his SNL and entertainment career.
Korea’s work culture demands loyalty that is excessive and often toxic. The Agency used to say we were a family - 가족처럼 지내자! - while conveniently forgetting that a healthy family dynamic should not be exploitative or exhausting.
The 50 hour work week ruling hadn’t passed yet and I often worked on weekends and late into the night without any additional compensation, as per an implicit Korean office culture expectation that makes it awkward to leave before your boss does. I don’t think it’s coincidence that most of the heads at The Agency were unhappily single into their mid 30s and 40s. The CEO was their family now.
During Seoul Fashion Week, the pressure was heightened, both as an employee of The Agency and as a model. I was expected to dress stylishly and get photographed, work shifts at the trade show, mingle with important people at parties, keep our guests happy, post non-stop on social media, deliver the next day’s outfit directly to the homes of top models and keep a smile on my face the whole time.
“Our CEO is watching you,” 이사님 reminded me at every turn. “If you do well, she wants you to be our representative in Paris and London fashion weeks.”
I was called endlessly on my work cellphone by my seniors who made demands all day long.
“Where are you? Get the tickets.” “Why didn’t you pick up Haena’s clothes? She needs them now!” “Take that photo down from your instagram. He’s a model from [competitor agency].”
Getting spotted at a fashion show. It says “I was watching her live broadcast two minutes ago.”
I vividly recall the moment I was going home at 3 a.m. after a party, dragging heavy bags full of clothes and finally losing my head in the middle of the street. If anyone had looked out their window at that moment, they would have seen a tall girl with dark circles and smudged makeup, bawling all the way home like a child.
By 6 a.m. I was on the subway again, newly dressed, newly made up and jotting down my report for my boss.
“You look tired,” 이사님 said, scrutinizing my skin. “Don’t you know how important this job is for you?”
It was probably true. The Agency’s CEO played a significant role in developing the modern fashion and modeling industry in Korea that the world sees today. If she chose to, she could have changed my path very easily.
I remember watching an interview with one of Korea’s supermodels. She was talking with a panel on a variety T.V. show. One of the panelists was a boss at The Agency. As they talked about model life in Korea, the model started to tear up.
“I went through so much to get to where I am today,” she said, looking ridiculously pretty even as she dabbed her red eyes, “It was really, really hard.”
The Agency person nodded. “You suffered a lot,” she said, her face pulled into a look of sympathy. I felt a small prick of anger. In Korea, sometimes it feels like the people on top will do everything to crush you, but turn around and celebrate once you’ve become a Somebody, as though they weren’t the ones who made you suffer in the first place.
Models are especially vulnerable to the whiplash. Our looks and weight openly insulted today, then praised the next morning if we made a splash in the Seoul Fashion Week bulletin that was passed around each day.
I feel almost embarrassed writing this, but I used to carry a lot of anxiety and anger towards The Agency. For a long time, my heart would start pounding uncontrollably whenever I encountered somebody from it, and I’d feel as though I was being watched. Truth to be told, I probably still am. The CEO keeps tabs on everybody. I wonder how she thinks about me now.
Part of those feelings came from experiencing the intense nature of the Korean modeling industry. Part of it was being worn down by the controlling and hierarchical nature of The Agency’s office life. Another part of it was the discrimination I experienced from certain people in The Agency for being mixed Korean. All things I absorbed and believed could be fixed if I only was skinnier, worked harder, behaved more ‘Korean-like.’
But some things just can’t be changed by one person alone, no matter how well-meaning you are.
Gifts from a seventeen year old Korean-Uzbek model trainee who dreamt of making it in Korea.
Korea has so much creativity and innovation to offer when it comes to fashion.
There’s no lack of interesting ideas, beautiful faces or will-power. It’s astounding to see how much attention Korea now gets from the Western world, and a huge part of that is because of the brazen, gorgeous and unique style Korea has developed over the years.
I love Korean fashion, and I had an up-close and personal look inside the industry, both as a model and as one of the thousands of worker ants who make it run. It was a rare experience I can’t forget.
Should you go enjoy Seoul Fashion Week? Absolutely!
It’s a special event that celebrates Korean fashion and is worth the spotlight. I hope it continues to get more attention in the future.
When I finally quit The Agency, my boss threw one last attempt to make me stay. “The CEO really likes you. I promise you’ll get a better opportunity.” It was extremely gratifying when I heard that The Agency went through many attempts to replace me but all quit after just weeks. Maybe I hadn't been their best office worker, but I had shown perseverance.
The day I left, I walked nonchalantly down the hallway and coolly said goodbye to everyone I passed. I imagined I saw a little envy in their eyes.
I kept my composure until I was out the door and around the corner. Then I literally pumped my fists in the air and jumped for joy. Thus, alone but feeling on top of the world, I ended a significant chapter in my life.
I certainly don’t resent the people who sacrificed their time, happiness or personal relationships for the sake of growing the Korean fashion industry, especially if that was their dream. It’s just not mine anymore.
Dress up, grab a friend and stop by DDP this Seoul Fashion Week and make some memories. Tag me on instagram @thehalfieproject if you do! I’d love to see your style.