[The Editors' Verdict] The Fate of Hipjiro

The nights in Euljiro have become vibrant. It is no longer the back alley that office workers used to visit for after-work gatherings. Instead, it has transformed into "Hipjiro" (hipster + Euljiro), a hotspot for young people from both Korea and abroad. As soon as the sun sets, young crowds flock to Euljiro 3-ga Station in search of trendy eateries. Even without visible store signs, they find their way. Reservations are a must, and waiting in line is part of the routine.

It is a transformation unimaginable during the day. Mornings in Euljiro begin with three-wheeled motorcycles zipping around making deliveries. Riders, mostly middle-aged, weave through narrow alleys delivering printed materials, often finding it hard to understand the influx of young visitors to these old backstreets. Inside the print shops, the noisy clatter of various machines fills the air. Amid swirling dust, the scent of paper and sweat lingers heavily.

The boundary between night and day is gradually fading. Young people are arriving earlier than before. More and more are taking photos next to the bustling print shops. Their presence is turning the soon-to-be-demolished old downtown into a cultural district. From an economic perspective, the area is shifting from a center of production to a hub of services.

This change is not unique to Euljiro. Seongsu-dong, often called "the Brooklyn of Korea," is experiencing even more dramatic transformations. As it becomes a "mecca for pop-up stores" in fields like fashion, beauty, character goods, film, and automobiles, its face changes almost daily. A pop-up store refers to a shop that sells specific products for a limited time, similar to a curated exhibition. It has already been six years since Musinsa, the company that led Seongsu-dong's revival, took root there. Now, calling it a city of shoe factories and print shops sounds outdated.

Like a liquid that changes shape according to its container, the identity of these neighborhoods is evolving with the footsteps of young people. Sociologist Zygmunt Bauman described modern identity as "liquid modernity," emphasizing that it does not stay fixed but flows-and this seems to be a real-life example.

The main drivers of change are those in their 20s and 30s. They eat and drink in Hipjiro, shop for clothes in Seongsu-dong, and shape their identities in the process. They share their experiences on social networking services (SNS), drawing others to these neighborhoods. Bauman noted that these individuals constantly redefine themselves by seeking new items, experiences, and trends.

As young people reconstruct their identities, the city has gained new life. There have been no massive development projects or the construction of skyscrapers. Instead, with the arrival of those seeking the "newtro" (new + retro) vibe of "old but new," Euljiro has been reborn as Hipjiro. Perhaps this is where true urban regeneration begins. It is no longer an era where things must be demolished to build anew, or where new buildings automatically attract people. The abundance of newly built but empty commercial spaces in Seoul's Gangnam area may be the result of failing to read these changes properly.

The future of Hipjiro is not entirely bright. Building owners who found success in Seongsu-dong are now settling in. When people gather, capital follows. As rents rise, print shops are relocating to Paju, Gyeonggi Province. Concerns are growing in the alleys that Hipjiro's unique atmosphere may soon disappear. There is anxiety that it may follow the same path as Garosu-gil or Gyeongridan-gil.

There are many ways to support voluntary urban regeneration, such as setting rent caps. Grand development plans are not what is needed. Now is the time to look closely and pay attention.

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.