Edited by: Rishika Agarwal
K-pop, so formulaic, so parasocial, so manufactured– trust me, I know. And I still fall for it. It’s keeping this in mind that I want to ramble, and perhaps add something to the conversation- around Le Sserafim and their manufactured authenticity.
Debuted in 2022, the five (formerly six) member girl group has been massively successful. They’ve sold millions of albums. Even within K-pop, their case is interesting- as each of the members has a defined, fleshed-out backstory. Their company, Source Music, which is under megacorp HYBE that originated from BTS- clearly recruited members with a particular goal in mind.
Two of them are ex-members of Iz*one, an incredibly popular girl group which was made out of a survival show. Kim Chaewon, who’s Korean, was one of Iz*one’s most talented singers and dancers. Sakura Miyawaki, on the other hand, who’s Japanese, has been an idol since 2012, and her charisma comes from her persistent hard-work rather than pure talent.
The third member, Korean-American idol Huh Yunjin, also took part in the survival show that eventually made Iz*one- but did not make it to the group. After her debut was delayed for years on end, she gave up and returned to the USA. She’d just paid her fees for business school- when she got a call from HYBE offering her a spot.
Kazuha Nakamura, the fourth member, has one of the most intriguing backgrounds in K-pop. She was a professional ballerina, studying in one of the most prestigious ballet schools in the world, when she applied to HYBE to be an idol. The remaining member, Eunchae, the maknae (youngest) is an outlier. Her case is more typical of a trainee- a dance prodigy who was hand picked out of various trainees and didn’t have prior experience like the others. However, as she’s a part of the group, their marketing impacts her too.
In terms of pure singing prowess, Le Sserafim members are nothing special. They have good voices, but their main selling point is their charisma. The entire concept behind Le Sserafim is their confidence and authenticity, and they’re marketed as “being different from other idols.” In her introduction video, Huh Yunjin even stated she wants to change the idol industry—and with an impressive songwriting record for a female rookie and after showing open support for the LGBTQ+ community—she’s doing that on one level. And it’s true that each of the members’ backgrounds is real—they are actually different anomalies in K-pop. While most trainees are shrouded in anonymity or just known as trainees before they debut, the four girls of this group were popular, even experienced, in various areas of entertainment. This is why their stage presence is so great—why they’ve never ‘felt’ like a rookie group. Source Music and HYBE have been strategic in leveraging these individual narratives to create a sense of authenticity and relatability for fans.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room—the sixth member, Kim Garam, who was kicked out due to a bullying scandal after barely being in the group for twenty days. Le Sserafim’s next EP, Antifragile, seems to reference this scandal—as if the group has risen out of the ashes, emerging anew, the five surviving members successfully navigating her loss and the impact that had on the group. While Garam’s presence has been erased from their pre-debut documentary, ‘The World is an Oyster’- her not being present anymore is treated as a subtle motivator in the group’s marketing, just another pesky obstacle they’ve been able to overcome.
Don’t get me wrong. I love these girls. I have pictures of their faces up on my wall in my dorm. All their songs are bops- they have an amazing discography. However, their marketing and the concept they portray- is a startling reminder of entertainment under capitalism. The creative struggle itself is re-appropriated as a theme. The diverse backgrounds they hail from are simply reduced to something else that makes them rare and interesting. And that’s what is truly mystifying- their authenticity, while not innately manufactured, is altered to an extent. Instead of crafting a narrative or lying, HYBE simply found people who perfectly suited their concept. And while one part of me finds that disturbing, I’m also equally captivated by it.
I don’t doubt them or what they say. When Le Sserafim talks about their struggles and motivations, I do believe them. What’s ingenious- and perhaps insidious is- the company knows this and markets them as fearless baddies who are winning despite that struggle. This is ironic, as well as fascinating, because they would have been successful anyway. In fact, they’ve never really struggled, at least commercially. As the first girl group to debut under BTS’ parent company, these girls had unprecedented privilege. Their debut EP, Fearless, while being amazing in quality,was a guaranteed success anyway. This is why their marketing is so intriguing and reveals so much about the industry they’re from.
While it’s clear that Le Sserafim’s members have genuine talent and drive, the way their stories and struggles are packaged and presented to fans raises questions about the line between authenticity and marketing in K-pop. It seems that in order to succeed in this industry, idols and their companies must strike a delicate balance between relatability and aspiration, between showcasing their humanity and maintaining an air of perfection. So is it really possible for the group to maintain a genuine connection with fans despite this paradox?
Even their latest EP, Easy, revolves around the idea of ‘making it look easy’ despite their struggles. But I have to ask- what struggles? Yes, the life of a K-pop idol is grueling but they’ve always been successful. Two years into their career, they’ll be performing at Coachella and they’ve collaborated with big names like Demi Lovato and Nile Rodgers—what is all this if not a result of HYBE’s connections? Is the struggle in the room with us?
Are Le Sserafim, with their songwriting credits, intriguing backstories and open support of the queer community, really changing the industry? Maybe to some extent. However, this is the same group that debuted two minors, that kicked one out over probably false accusations, that adheres to the strict and dangerous weight standard imposed on female K-pop idols, and that pushes capitalism and engages in everything that makes K-pop so formulaic.
What do I conclude? I don’t know,for I’m a deluded fan, and I can only be so objective. Maybe it’s “hate the game, not the player.”And I sign off with a hypocritical “Stream EASY”.