MANILA, Philippines - Amid the colorful K-Pop fashions and eerily similar couples attired in matching ensembles, a certain brand of style emerged from the noisy shops in Seoul’s Myeongdong district, home to an eclectic mix of shops that sell everything from Navajo-patterned tights to dollar-priced Chanel knockoff earrings.
A few stores, hawking what consumers with a passing acquaintance with midwestern garments might call prairie, quietly stand out next to bargain bins overflowing with animal prints and polka dots. Here, white in all its iterations — ivory, cream, beige and its similarly-hued siblings on the pale edge of the color wheel — reigns supreme.
Instead, the focus is on texture. Silk gazar blouses with cotton popcorn-embellished hems hang cheerfully next to more rustic pieces. The range is far-reaching. From garments more appropriate to an old-fashioned rodeo to secretary style garments that hark to the ’80s.
Tie-front tops, pleated calf-length skirts, floaty tunics, linen coats fill the racks.
There are also accent pieces in denim and chambray — and the occasional floral scarf or print.
The shoppers, curiously, are a melange of skinny chicks with messy topknots outfitted in something akin to an off-duty ballerina and Pepto-Bismol-hued K-Pop kids looking for something new to wear.
In one particular store, embroidered leather boots line the front entrance next to a white picket fence and some Astro Turf. Mannequins wrapped in burlap stand guard. Walking in is a strange, almost discombobulating experience. Like finding yourself in this tiny, well-packaged universe filled with all things Americana in the middle of Seoul’s shopping hub. Next to exotically-garbed Koreans in their neon-colored finery, nothing is more exotic than this land of prairie-styled clothing.