Heeding the boyfriend’s father’s advice (he’s Korean and has lived here, so he should know what he‘s talking about) to dress expensive when living in Seoul, I decided I would try to blend in with the fashionistas here.    Blending into Korea as a woman is definitely a challenge when you are tall, blonde and have white skin and light eyes.  

Still, I brought with me plenty of the mandatory girl colors in Seoul - black, gray and white- and of course the high heels to finish my look.   The Korean women that I see about Seoul during the work day are usually dressed business casual, in trendy skirts, blouses, or tight-fitteding pants, with the mandatory accessories of  Louis Vuitton bag and Chanel earrings.  And the ubiquitous, dreaded high heels.   But when in Seoul, you do as the Seoulites do.  I pulled out the shoes that I have learned to hate.

My first day of attempting this look was out to dinner with the boyfriend’s family. I put on my cute skirt, made sure my top covered the "girls" adequately and slipped on my favorite pair of heels. I felt like as if I was playing the native part to a tee.  Moreover, its not like I never wore 3 inch heels in the States.  After the first 15 minutes of walking, yes I forgot that in Seoul walking is the main source of transportation, my feet started to ache a bit, but I knew my goal was in sight, only 5 minutes to get to the restaurant. The restaurant we ate at that evening was traditional, so I walked in and had to lose the shoes at the doorway, since no self-respecting Korean floor would be happy with my heels leaving 3 inch deep perforations all over it. My feet thanked me, but my heart was sad: why did I torture my feet to only have to take off what I thought was the best part of the outfit?  What's the point of wearing those babies if no one is going to see them on my feet?  After dinner I put the shoes back on and hobbled home.



Photo:  Wearing those high, high heels...love the leopard print 2nd from the left!

The second attempt, and I say "attempt" because after the first night of my heels there were noticeable blisters on the back of my ankles, was the stupidest mistake of my time here in Seoul.  Thinking that I would impress the Korean Immigration officers, I donned a beautiful pair of black platform strappy sandals.  I walked the obligatory 10 minutes to the subway with no issue, but then looked at the steps at the entrance and gasped. Walking in heels is one thing, but going down steps is ridiculously hard.  The heels are made so that your body wants to fall forward, then you force yourself to go down steps, this was sheer madness.  As I took my first cautious step down, a Korean woman in higher heels than mine glided past me and fluttered down these same steps in the Seoul rush. 

I followed her and much less gracefully finally made it to the subway platform, wondering the entire time how does she do it? Since this was my first visit to the immigration office, I of course spent 25 minutes wandering around Mok-dong in my fabulous high heels. By the time that I made it to the office, where there is no reason to blend in since everyone there is a foreigner, and back to the subway, those subway steps looked downright evil.  The skin that was supposed to protect me from the straps had long vanished.  I held onto the rail and tried not to fall, inching my way down backwards, like a mountain climber.  The good news was that at the bottom of those steps was a lovely mart which supplied band aids, the bad news was that it was only noon and I still had a long day of walking ahead of me. Since that day, I shudder every time that I see those once beloved shoes. That particular pair has stayed in the shoe closet ever since.


 
Photo:  My preferred "out on the town" shoe in Seoul!


Two-three more attempts were made for me to blend in before I gave up. The shoes now only come out when I know that a taxi or many bottles of soju are involved. For my day to day walking, an investment in flats has worked out to my benefit. And what did I get for all of my suffering to fit in? Nothing.  A blonde-haired, green-eyed white girl will never blend in Seoul. She will, however, get away with flip-flops and tank-tops in the summer, and comfort will overrule fitting in any day.


About me:  How did a mid-West gal end up in Korea?   A tale of revenge, pure and simple.   Last year, my Korean-American (gyopo) boyfriend asked me to move with him to Seoul for the sole purpose of proving what its like to live "different" in modern society.    Sure, I laughed when he used to count the number of Asians he sees while visiting my family in Ohio (nine, on our last visit, all together going into a baseball game).  And I chuckled and shook my head when he threatened to show me first-hand what it might feel like to be in his shoes, sitting as the only white girl at his Korean-family gatherings.  


I scoffed back then--but now I know.  The past 8 months living in Seoul have been a roller coaster of emotions, embarrassments and learning experiences.   In my blogs, I hope to share what I, a homegrown Ohio native, by way of Seattle, 28 year-old (30!! Korean age) woman, has learned in this great and giant city of Seoul!

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