What lives on as the population dwindles
women on strike, tousled Miu Miu hair, the new silver generation, K-pop in crisis
Rejoicing in womanhood and celebrating achievements by women should have been the mood for Seoulites yesterday. For those still breathing air from the eighth of March—happy international women’s day! Miuccia Prada, who showed her FW23 collection for Miu Miu just two days prior, certainly channeled a bit of pre-women’s day energy into her looks; models hinted at an early morning fervor through tousled hair (Prada espouses such a morning btw: read her backstage interview with Suzy Menkes), as they glided down an austere, metallic runway prepared by animatronic manipulator-artist Geumhyung Jeong (정금형).
The show echoed Prada’s belief that “sex is one of the biggest passions—food and sex & desire”. To embrace our passions is what makes us women, men, human. It’s what keeps us from being too serious. This universality is stitched into Miu Miu’s gender fluid designs for fall. Prada’s candor, underpinned by a sensual humility, epitomizes what it means to be a self-confident woman.
Let’s leave Paris and return to Seoul.
In the wake of international women’s day, it’s worth examining just how “happy” women are in South Korea. Scanning a few headlines is all it takes. Korean women are currently the focus of quite a few international media outlets. A highly incensed guest essay featured in the New York Times reports women are on “strike against being ‘baby-making machines’” while a CNN article dryly remarks how South Korea has managed to beat its record low fertility rate, which fell from 0.81 in 2021 to 0.78 in 2022.
Perhaps the equation “no baby = happiness” works for some women. However, the equation’s validity as a 21st century life hack shouldn’t be accepted at face value without properly evaluating the sociocultural context it arose from. If women are subscribing to the aforementioned (highly simplified) equation out of necessity rather than choice, then this is symptomatic of a larger social problem. I’m not going to dive into too much detail here, as there are a plethora of articles analyzing this very issue, but I will say this: a society that runs on a binary system of career vs. family is predicated on the notion that sacrifice is inevitable. Eventually it all boils down to the question of: what will you let go? (the Prada within us: not sex!)
a society that runs on a binary system of career vs. family is predicated on the notion that sacrifice is inevitable
The new silver generation
I got a taste of what the future will look like if such binarism isn’t rectified last weekend.
The vision manifested at a recital by baritone Yoo Sung Kong (유승공), who performed around twelve songs for an audience that he coins “the new silver generation”. Nearly everyone around me was in their fifties or sixties (or even older). I was, without an ounce of exaggeration, the youngest person in attendance. And before you ask me what I was doing in a sea of elderly people, let me enlighten you: I was escorting my mom, who vehemently denied that she should be grouped in with the other new silvers.
The term “new silver” struck me as funny once I learned what it meant.
Apparently, the new silver generation is different from their OG predecessors in that they are “bold” in their pursuit of new challenges; “eager” in their willingness to invest in their health and beauty; “passionate” about indulging in a range of hobbies that include but are not limited to golf. Challenge me if you want (the comments section is open), but this description sounds a lot like an introductory snippet from a guide to GenZ. Just swap the labels, slap on a few decades on everyone’s faces, and there you go—new silver! No wonder my mom found the categorization disagreeable.
Perhaps there is meaning in the observation that GenZ and new silver are essentially the same.
Perhaps there is meaning in the observation that GenZ and new silver are essentially the same. It certainly does resonate with the adage “still young at heart”, which largely explains why many of the listeners had a nostalgic look in their eyes when the melody to Lee Moon Sae’s “An Old Love” (1991) rang throughout the room; the song most likely recalled moments from their youth, a period in life that resurfaced from behind a haze of memories upon hearing the time-honed lyrics.
Such a response is natural and transhistorical. I’m not going to pretend that I’m above sentimental feelings. I can’t. If someone plays me NewJean’s “Ditto” when I’m in my sixties, I’ll most likely become swathed in nostalgia and teleport myself to the long nights spent on Kosi Coso during my twenties.
K-pop in crisis
Speaking of NewJeans, the K-pop industry is also struggling to adapt to the country’s low fertility rates. Asides from facing hardship in scouting out talent from an increasingly shrinking pool of idol trainees, the industry is finding that its target audience is growing older.
Back in the early 2000s and 2010s, idols such as SNSD, Super Junior, Big Bang, etc. produced music designed to sate the aural palate of tweens and teens. This isn’t so much the case anymore. With schools seeing a 50% or more decrease in student enrollment rates, many have no choice but to shut down. Children are literally disappearing. South Korea is a dream come true for Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’s baroness.
What a decline in children portends for the K-pop industry is an upwards shift in target segmentation.
What a decline in children portends for the K-pop industry is an upwards shift in target segmentation. While many people—including myself—have been enraptured by NewJean’s 90s retro vibe, a part of me can’t help but wonder if Min Hee Jin strategically positioned the girls to target an already mature audience with a strong nostalgia for the said time period. Albeit, Min Hee Jin does imply in multiple interviews that NewJean's’ aesthetic was largely influenced by her desire to recreate the 90s in a modern design language.
Nonetheless, from a strategic standpoint, tapping into an already existing pool of listeners as opposed to erecting a new one from a less dynamic selection of people is the safer course of action for brands looking to secure a steady revenue stream. NewJean’s succeeds in doing precisely this by capitalizing on the nostalgia evoked by their retro-bunny concept.
Nostalgia reigns
If there’s one truth that you should take away from today’s post, it’s this: people age but do not age.
Maybe the binary social system eventually gets to us. But at some point in our lives, our hearts divorce our bodies to form a dichotomy that becomes a marker of time. Wrinkles form, hair thins, joints ache, vision dulls. Yet, at heart, we still feel, want, and desire to live like as if we are in our twenties. This is a confession that I’ve been able to glean from multiple sunbaes (seniors) around me. Assuming that this is true and that South Korea’s population growth rate is expected to be continuously dismal, it is sensible to posit that nostalgia will appeal even more strongly to the sensibilities of an ever mature audience. As such, brands seeking to adapt to an aging society should devise ways of establishing rapport with potential customers through the mode of memory.
Even as I write, I am fully aware that my thoughts are but conjectures at this point in time. I sincerely hope that such a future in which an aging, childless society is the norm does not become an irreversible reality; for as much as much as I appreciate the wistfulness conjured by nostalgia, a world saturated in reflective yearning intimates a future that is slowly receding into the past.
I would love to get a to a point where people aren't so concerned about whether people pro-create or not. It's such a personal thing. We don't know people's circumstances or personal wishes. I wish I could say I am surprised though that it's still happening in 2023. Great post as always!