But alas, as a fashion follower visiting a relatively style-forward country for the first time, I ate my words. My first exposure to the extensive Seoul shopping experience came as I got off the bus at Itaewon, my homebase in Seoul. Known as South Korea’s Western district, being the site of one of two US military bases in the country, the district is touted as the foreign visitor’s shopping haven. Most of the high-quality leather-eel skin inclusive – that brochures and Korean shopping veterans rave about – can be found at Itaewon. By the time I had finished walking down the entire Itaewon shopping strip, I was trying to figure out how to ask my parents to wire me more cash, how I could survive on a sunflower seed diet just to be able to have enough money to shop, how I could justify the multi-colored lightweight leather jacket I spotted in one of the boutiques as a wardrobe necessity (price tag: $80, relatively cheap compared to Italian-made cowhide). More a bane to my budget than a boon, Itaewon shopkeepers can speak more than passable English, making it easier to bargain. Some shops also accept dollars and yen, although a few minutes’ walk would most likely lead you to one of the many money exchange shops in the district.
Part of the allure offered by the Korean shopping scene comes from the country’s obsession with a myriad of vivid colors put together in the smallest square area possible. Koreans see style – or everything for that matter – in rainbow colors, as expressed in their national costume, the traditional hanbok. If the Japs are the purveyors of anime, Koreans are the prime movers behind the art of kitsch. A lot of their goods look like products of an acid trip gone overboard. Cute is an aesthetic in the Korean fashion scene. Smiling faces, cartoony characters, hearts, flowers, and pastel-colored palettes are on everything, from shoes to bags to clothing and even billboards advertising the Korean tourist trade. Some merchandise are too kitschy that wearing them can actually be considered style statements.
The soul and spirit of this kitsch revolution – and basically the entire Korea shopping experience – can be found in their bargain districts. The Tongdaemun and Nandaemun markets are the city’s biggest bargain centers – Seoul’s version of Greenhills on a grander scale. Multi-level malls present an intimidating view of how extensive shopping in Seoul can actually be. Stalls hawk just about everything, from fashionable clothing (a lot of these are Fifties-inspired) like designer brand knock-offs to accessories, hats, wigs, pastel-colored makeup, skincare products (a big industry in Korea), imported goods, and traditional Korean products such as jade figurines and wooden masks.
Compensating for their poor English, Korean salespeople have developed that characteristic eagerness that is almost frightening. This seller’s "itch" has the seemingly meekest of stall minders plying buyers with almost everything the store offers, even merchandise the kitsch-loving Koreans wouldn’t necessarily purchase. Most shopkeepers are amenable to bargaining – some of them, used to the tourists’ haggling ritual, even anticipate it. Expect to have calculators flung at your face, with the "last price" punched in even before you start to haggle.
Probably in deference to the famed Beverly Hills shopping site, Seoul has two designer-dotted fashion areas called Rodeo Street-two. One is located at Apkujong-dong, one of the city’s more upscale areas, and has been designated the moniker, "Fashion St.". International heavyweights such as Giorgio Armani, Gianni Versace, Escada, Prada, and Givenchy provide the retail haven’s predominantly twentysomething clientele with high-end choices. The other Beverly Hills-inspired shopping locale is located at Munjong-dong. Rodeo St. in this area is a favorite haunt of foreign shoppers, particularly the Japanese and other visitors from East Asia. Merchandise from DKNY, Versace, Boss, and sports brands Nike, Adidas, and Fila are available at highly-discounted prices (read: up to 80 percent off) all-year round. Contrary to the politics concerning discounted goods, the goods sold at Munjong-dong Rodeo St. are neither flawed nor you-can’t-tell-the-difference imitations. A lot of the boutiques are either managed by manufacturers or are commissioned by them to sell clearance goods.
For a taste of fresh local talent, the Hong Dae area boasts boutiques that sell fashion-forward pieces by Seoul’s design upstarts. Hong Dae is one area reserved for the young or the youthwannabe. Apart from the trend troves, the area culls some of the city’s premier universities and a rambunctious night scene enjoyed by both tourists and locals.
With two days to go into my trip, I was a hundred US dollars past my intended budget and had already exhausted my kamsa hamnidas ("thank you" in Korean). My friend and I were getting lost on the subway, and taking our lunch close to sundown all because we were trying to make the most of our shopping days. And though she was already limping by the time I declared that I had completed my buying spree, she neither complained nor made good her homicidal threats for dragging her to every single bargain center I would spot on those complimentary shopping guides. She understood the call of Korean kitsch as well as I did.