Seoul
The center of the work. Jongno for the ateliers, Dongdaemun for the fabric, Insadong for the calligraphy and ceramics, Bukchon Hanok Village for what the old neighborhoods looked like before the city grew tall.
We go to Korea twice a year. The fabric markets, the atelier visits, the kitchens of relatives we only see on these trips. Notes from the road, posted as we make them.
The morning begins at Dongdaemun, the fabric market that runs from dawn through dinner. Silk by the bolt. Cotton by the meter. Hand-embroidered panels arranged on the floor, lit by the overhead fluorescents, sold by women who have been there forty years.
The afternoon is atelier visits. Small workshops in Jongno and Insadong where most of our pieces are cut and sewn. Fittings with the tailor who taught Mrs. Lee how to read a goreum. Conversations about what the next quarter should look like.
The evening is family. Eric’s aunt cooks doenjang jjigae in the kitchen she has cooked in for forty years. The cousins drop by. The table runs long. The work and the family blur in a way they only do on these trips.
The center of the work. Jongno for the ateliers, Dongdaemun for the fabric, Insadong for the calligraphy and ceramics, Bukchon Hanok Village for what the old neighborhoods looked like before the city grew tall.
The volcanic island south of the mainland. Stone walls along the fields, haenyeo divers in the harbors, citrus orchards in spring. A short flight from Seoul that feels like a different country.
The southern port city. Jagalchi seafood market at sunrise, Gamcheon village on the hillside, the long beaches of Haeundae. Where Mrs. Lee’s family had a summer house when she was a child.
Spring (April to early June) is cherry blossom and the moment before the heat. Autumn (mid-September to early November) is the gold of the gingko trees, the harvest light, the easiest weather. Avoid the heart of summer (late July, August) unless you love humidity. Avoid the deep winter (January) unless you love cold and quiet.
For hanbok specifically, autumn is the camera season. The light is long and gold, the temperatures hold, the trees behind you in the photograph carry their own color.
The work and the family blur in a way they only do on these trips.
The garment we travel for, and the culture that wears it.
Sourcing trip reports, neighborhood walks, the small encounters that make Korea legible. Posted to the journal after each trip.