Postcard from Seoul
Martial law & shades of grey.
During my visit, martial law was declared by the President. People were so under shock that it felt the city was under anaesthesia. Friends I spoke with were shaken but also happy that it only lasted two hours, viewing it as a sign that democracy, however fragile, remains alive here. However, if I had not read the news, I would never have noticed that such a thing had happened. It is a good reminder that everything that is said in the media and the images they show are only a small portion of the reality.
The first thing I noticed on the subway into Seoul was how the sea seemed to stretch endlessly, blurring into the sky, both merging into a uniform gray. Snow had fallen quietly, settling on the hills and their scattered graveyards, draping them in a hushed elegance. It felt like the perfect entry into a city that thrives on subtlety and precision.
Seoul is a study in contrasts. It’s a city that speaks softly but with purpose. Everything here feels deliberate. The industrial design creates a clean, structured aesthetic. Even the people reflect this, dressed in neutral tones of black, beige, and brown, as if in harmony with the city’s architecture. At times, I wondered if I’d gone colorblind, the muted palette so pervasive that even the green pines on the streets felt like a revelation.
The architectural landscape is dominated by polished concrete, a legacy of architects like Kim Chung-up, who introduced this material in the 1960s. Structures such as the French Embassy and the RW Concrete Church exemplify this aesthetic, blending solidity with elegance.
Despite this visual minimalism, Seoul is vibrant in its rhythm. It hums with a quiet efficiency—the kind you only notice when you step out of its flow. Smoking areas are tucked away, electric cars glide noiselessly through the streets, and even the small trucks have sides that fold open with a practicality that feels quintessentially Korean. The transportation system, unsurprisingly, is flawless—a city designed to keep moving forward.
Yet Seoul defies easy categorization. In Gangnam, you feel the towering ambition of New York; the smaller streets of Myeongdong recall a European charm; and then, of course, there’s the undeniable essence of Asia—a culture steeped in history and tradition. But Seoul is perhaps the least stereotypically “Asian” city I’ve visited, with its understated elegance feeling closer to Tokyo than Beijing, yet uniquely its own.
What truly stands out is the people. They’re not just polite; they’re poised. There’s a warmth and sophistication to their interactions, shaped by a history of resilience and Confucian discipline. Korea’s story—marked by colonization, dictatorship, and rapid modernization—is etched into the way people move through the world: quietly ambitious, constantly evolving. While democracy here is still a work in progress, the city carries an energy of possibility that feels tangible.
Even in its inefficiencies, Seoul captivates. The stock market’s quirks, with shareholder rights far from Western standards, echo a society still finding balance between growth and equity. Yet, the city’s dynamism is undeniable. Talents here rivals the best globally, and the conversations I had with investors revealed an appetite for innovation that extends far beyond the country’s borders. One friend shared a story of cow tokenization—turning fine beef into blockchain assets. Somehow absurd, yet brilliant.
My curiosity led me to a beauty clinic, an industry where Korea reigns supreme. The experience was a lesson in efficiency: consultations upstairs, treatments downstairs, with staff rotating in military precision. They wield high-tech devices like artists with brushes, though I won’t lie—the pain was memorable. However, one detail remained in my mind: the one-time use needles additionally charged to the client. Great business model indeed and maybe worth investigating further.
I left two hours later, amused and awed by an ecosystem that has made beauty tourism a national treasure.
Seoul, for all its contrasts, left me inspired. It doesn’t shout its greatness but lets you uncover it slowly, in the quiet elegance of its streets, its people, and its pace. I’ll return someday to dig deeper into the layers I missed, but for now, I carry its muted beauty and thoughtful rhythm with me.
Yours faithfully,
Marie
