“I would tell myself, ‘I shouldn’t go home’.”

Eunhye Chae seemed to have it all. As an assistant director in Seoul’s advertising industry, she helped create campaigns featuring celebrities, with her work appearing on billboards across South Korea.

What seemed like a dream job became her prison.

From behind the scenes in Seoul to a new life in Perth. Photos: Supplied (left). Photo: Imogen Bell (right).

Behind the Korean dream

Behind the glamour was a grueling work culture that eventually drove her to leave.

“Even though I was an assistant, I managed everything,” she says.

“I would commute to work on Monday at 11am. From that time, I would work at a computer for five days. I slept in the company bathroom, and would wake up after three hours to sit at my desk and work again.”

Eunhye’s experience offers a glimpse into the pressures of South Korea’s working culture.

The rise of the Korean Wave

The global popularity of Korean entertainment, beauty and fashion has helped create an idealised image of the country, one that doesn’t always reflect the experiences of those living there. For a country that continues to face demographic, economic and political challenges, the Korean government knows that placing a “K” in front of anything can give it instant appeal and marketability.

But the Korean Wave, known as Hallyu, hasn’t spread evenly around the world.

“Hallyu as a term means Korean wave. On its own it doesn’t mean much, because when you hear Korean wave, you get this idea that it’s stable, homogeneous and experienced the same everywhere. When in reality, in some countries it’s a tsunami and in some it’s a little puddle,” says Korean studies lecturer, Eldin Milak.

The major political liberalisation of South Korea took place in 1987. This helped pave the way for a flourishing cultural industry. During the 1990s, the government increasingly recognised the economic potential of Korean entertainment, investing in film, television and music.

The first Korean Wave emerged in the late 1990s as Korean dramas and films gained popularity across Asia. With government support and the rise of digital platforms, Hallyu eventually became a global phenomenon.

In 2025 alone, Hallyu-related exports reached approximately US$19 billion (A$27 billion), according to a report by the Korean Foundation for International Cultural Exchange and South Korea’s Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism.

Milak studied for his PhD at Sungkyunkwan University in South Korea, where he saw behind the curtain of Hallyu while working with K-pop companies. “I got to familiarise myself with an education system that is one of the most competitive in the world, so going anywhere else after that feels quite easy,” he says.

“It was interesting to me how Korea was shifting all over the place, especially here in Perth. There is this element of “global Koreanness” which is where people seem to understand that Korea is popular, so they randomly put a Korean word or idol on a t-shirt. There are also more authentic services with Korean speakers targeted at locals.” he says.

The “Korea Fantasy” describes the growing interest in moving to South Korea to experience the lifestyle portrayed on a glass screen. Milak nods in recognition when the term is mentioned.

“The underlying process that concerns me with the “Korea Fantasy” is when you commodify something, you make it simple. It can lose its cultural value. It’s difficult to sell someone a certain rich cultural product, traditional Korean music will never have as many global listeners as it isn’t as palatable as K-pop,” he says.

“The problem is if people look at Hallyu and say oh, this is what Korea is. It certainly is not the whole picture.”

Bringing Korea to Perth

For Lara Park, who grew up in South Korea, the contrast between the country’s global image and everyday life is familiar

“We have to behave based on how other people think we should behave, versus how we want to behave. There is no time to rest, our work ethic is something we learn from our parents and seniors,” she says, shrugging with a wide smile.

The yellow walls of the Ganada store shopfront contrast with the gravity of the owner’s words. Her infectious positivity makes being overworked sound like a simple inconvenience.

For Lara Park, Ganada Store is about more than K-pop. Photos: Imogen Bell.

After moving to Australia in 2009, Lara knew she wanted to share the culture of her upbringing with others.

“This store, I opened it because of the space. I wanted a big space for the people. I wanted them to be able to come, study the Korean language and speak about K-Pop if they wanted to. They can buy their albums and open them on the spot, because there isn’t really a place to do that. I want people to visit and come to ask about Korea,” says Lara.

“Before opening the store, I didn’t know that K-Pop was this popular. After opening, I was surprised that the demographic of fans was this varied. From teenagers, to people in their 60s and 70s.”

Lara says Australians knew far less about South Korea when she arrived 17 years ago. She was drawn to the freedoms Australia offered.

“People used to ask if I was from Japan or China. Then when I said I was from Korea they would say North or South. They didn’t even know Samsung or Hyundai were Korean brands. Now, I feel like people can even recognise that I’m Korean from the way I speak English,” she says.

“I feel lucky that I live in Australia in this generation, I’m proud as a Korean. Here, I think it’s more relaxing, I feel like people can enjoy life more. I like this freedom in Australia. People express themselves a lot more, I hope my kids grow up like that.”

The Korea fantasy

As Korean culture becomes more familiar internationally, it also allows people to imagine their own version of the country. Director of the Korean Research and Engagement Centre, Joanna Elfving-Hwang, says she doesn’t think building cultural capabilities around a trend is a good initiative.

“The Korean tourism organisation ran a marketing campaign that said “Imagine your Korea”. You come to Korea and you go to the palace and walk around in a Hanbok, which isn’t even the real version. It’s like a weird glittery hybrid version of something that Koreans wouldn’t be seen dead in,” she says.

“The issue is that people don’t go beyond that. They experience this sort of imaginary Korea. When you live in Korea for an extended period that’s when it all falls away and you see the country for all of its problems and issues, and there are many.”

Her eyeline shifts to me as she says “Korea becomes this kind of fantasy. By producers it has been very intentionally made into that fantasy. K-beauty for example, it’s intentionally created as a fantasy of holistic looking after yourself and clear skin.”

South Korea’s societal pressures are something I experienced myself while living there. Looking beautiful is a standard to uphold, and work is your world.

A taste of Korea in Perth

Sodam cafe’s ambiance embraces me as I walk through the door. Owner Nayoon Won wants the small space to reflect the Korean word’s meaning “little pretty things.” She glances at the notes she’s prepared on her phone but doesn’t end up needing them as I begin asking my questions.

Nayoon Won shares a taste of Korea with Perth. Photos: Imogen Bell.

“People have a fantasy with Hallyu. They think I want to try Korean food, Korean food must be good, Korean cosmetics must be good. They have this image, so it’s easy to advertise to western customers,” Nayoon says.

The cafe owner says South Korea’s demanding work culture is one of the country’s biggest issues.

“In Korea, even when you’re sick you can’t say I’m sick and not go to work. You have to go to work even when you are sick, it’s a bit of a tough life in Korea,” she says.

“Our life is very close to work. After work, you go out with colleagues and have drinks or dinner. You keep working even when it’s not working hours. In Australia, it’s separated. My work and my privacy are separate.”

Nayoon says her favourite part about opening a Korean cafe in Perth has been the open-minded customers.

Beyond the Korean dream

“Running a Korean café is exciting. I can introduce Korean desserts, and people are happy to try them. Food is always close to our life, and when people watch K-Pop and K-Dramas they want to eat what they eat. I guess Hallyu makes people more open-minded in that way; it makes people want to try more things,” she says.

The statement about sickness hits close to home, my mind replaying memories. On a very cold day in November 2025, I woke up in a haze. My head spun as I stumbled to the campus clinic, mumbling my symptoms with Korean phrases my textbook had taught me. My fluency wasn’t strong enough to understand the nurse’s diagnosis. A pile of pills was dumped in my hand, which I swallowed in the bathroom before classes. With a mask on my face and my eyes half-closed, my teacher scolded me for not paying attention.

Eunhye giggles at my account, my experience seemingly minor compared with those of a Korean expat.

“That’s why I decided to come to a western area. I loved my job, but if I kept living like that, life wouldn’t be possible. I want to have a family one day and get married, if I kept that life up, I wouldn’t be able to care for anything.”

She makes a sound as she sucks air through her teeth, gazing thoughtfully at the Perth CBD around us. She takes long pauses as she speaks, thinking about her words carefully.

“I think this is why a lot of foreigners want to move there. I guess they think Korea’s image is very trendy and luxurious and relate it to everything “K”. When I was in Korea, I was frustrated. Why is everyone so conservative? Nobody has an open mind. In Australia, it was honestly even a shock to me when I went to the beach and people were wearing a bikini,” she says.

“In Korea, a lot of people focus on their appearance. If they meet someone who’s not stylish, they will quickly judge them. To me, those ideals weren’t good.

“I spent so much money in Korea on my clothing and makeup, but in Australia I only have ten clothing items and it makes me feel free.”

There’s honesty in her tone as she opens up. She tells me that, in Australia, everyone looks free.

“That’s why Korea is famous for appearance-based things, because everyone cares so much,” she chuckles.

“Korea is very trendy and that’s the idea they want to sell, Hallyu will only continue to get more popular.

“I hope people know it’s not real life.”