As the winter season prevailed, I visited Seoul and lived in Mapo-gu, the greater district that contains more well-known Hongdae. The bustling neighborhood features commercial giants like Musinsa, Nike, and Adidas. A ‘fashion street’ is packed with cafes, photo booths, and boutiques selling cute and low-cost womenswear. Amidst these popular destinations, Mapo-gu has unique vintage stores tucked away, below and above ground. These hidden novelties are uncovered through local knowledge and word of mouth, iykyk.
Unlike the branded storefronts that define the street-level view, these vintage shops don’t announce themselves loudly. Instead, they exist in the in-between—through side doors, stairwells, and whispers. Their low-key presence creates a kind of intimacy, where fashion feels less like consumption and more like curation. The pieces found here aren’t unified by trend or season, but by the distinct taste of their selectors and the communities that gather around them. In this way, the Mapo-gu vintage scene becomes a quiet incubator for style innovation where individual choices accumulate into new aesthetics. It’s in spaces like these that emerging sensibilities begin take shape, showing how new visual languages emerge from people dressing for themselves and each other.
Vintage Santa ⭒✮⭒𐚁
After living in Seoul two years ago, I aimed to locate the vintage stores I encountered. One night, I followed the current of pedestrians through Hongdae’s fashion street. The area is especially packed during the holiday season. Within the chaos, I saw a sign that read Vintage Santa pointing to a narrow stairway. With only a moment, I quickly decided to enter it underground.
Clothing hung from both sides of the stairway, feeling like a portal to a different world. The mostly wood interior and dim yellow lights resembled a Western theme, not to mention the American denim, leather jackets, and embellished bags. With tons of racks and pieces covering the walls, it would take hours to look through everything. This immense assortment was exciting, to say the least; I worked my way through cargo pants, Y2K graphic tank tops, sports jerseys, knits, and more. Finally, I found my grail: tactical Oakley backpacks from the 2000s.
Unfortunately, the store was near closing and I had little time to consider and much more to look through. As I walked up the secondary exit, a long oversized top — or maybe gown — with a Ukiyo-e print caught my eye. I instantly knew it was the one, rushing back to purchase the piece at the store’s last minute. While some retails limit their selection to ease customers, the great quantity at Vintage Santa generates a sense of adventure.
Pop Girl Vintage ♡‧₊˚🕷🕸
Another night, I hastily walked down Wausan-ro (street) to visit a clothing store in their last hour. As I followed my map, an upper-level boutique with cute goth pieces hanging along the entrance captivated my attention. It didn’t seem my style at all, but I suddenly decided to ditch my plan and check it out.
The interior was incredible; bright pink walls with chandeliers, a pink leopard pattern carpet, and piles of Sanrio plush toys. I couldn’t stop smiling from the unique atmosphere. The clothes were no different, with plenty of spikes, diamonds, skulls, stripes, pink, purple, black, and white. Pop Girl Vintage offers various motifs of Japanese fashion including funk, y2k, and Gyaru, which can only be found in a handful of locations in Korea.
“Since I was young, I have really liked fashion, and I am interested in it, so I am sensitive to changes due to its fast absorption, so I look for pretty and unique products overseas and in Korea. Everywhere in the world.” - Lee Hanna, Founder of Pop Girl Vintage
A growing following of Pop Girl Vintage has led them to expand and relocate. Each floor is distinguished by its style: 1F for punk and Gyaru, 2F for purple and black, giving a lot of funk details, 3F for Gyaru bang concept, and spaces for taking photos throughout. The novelty store design, closet, and experience sets them apart from other vintage shops and designer brands.
“Of course, vintage is one of the biggest attractions, and the biggest feature is that it has various elements such as details and design that cannot be matched by the current brand. Just as the current designer brand products have many vintage-based designs, vintage is incomparably more attractive than anyone else.” - Lee Hanna, Founder of Pop Girl Vintage
ID Vintage 𝄞⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆✦
The next shop is also underground, both from the street level and mainstream culture. While I didn’t have the chance to visit, ID Vintage sells denim vests, fur hoods, mini skirts, camo, bikinis, and leather pumps. Their styling resembles alternative fashion in London and If Six Was Nine.
Every day, ID Vintage shares new pieces and curated looks on Instagram. I am impressed by the amount of special inventory that comes through their doors.
What stands out most is ID Vintage’s quirky graphic items, from knits, shorts, skirts, dresses to bikinis and lingerie. They include funny quotes, distorted typography, and motifs like flowers and musical notes. Vintage stores are typically spaces to access archive pieces from famous designers, an older style, or connect to your niche subculture. This concentration of graphic prints, however, feels new while taking influence from the past.
Pijomul Vintage ೀ˚ꨄ︎˚°❀
Finally, I planned to revisit my favorite vintage store in Mapo-gu, Pijomul, just south of Hongdae in Songsu-dong. The shop was hidden on the third floor of a building. Right below is a fashion brand’s showroom, which I confused for the vintage shop on my way up the stairs. This concealed location added to the thrill of not knowing what I might find.
As soon as I entered, there was a vibrant energy throughout the space, emblematic of its origin. The founders fell in love at first sight at a vintage store. They got married and started their own shop named Pijomul, offering a unique curation that personifies the decadent free spirit of the early 2000s.
“Don’t define yourself, but try everything.” - Harin, Co-founder of Pijomul Vintage
I certainly felt free in the store, examining each piece from Pijomul’s smaller yet incredible collection of colorful knitwear, fur boots, fur jackets, jeans, corduroys, cargo pants, studded belts, leather jackets, and puffer coats. My personal dress codes were compromised by thoughts like, 'Will this fit me? Can this pass as unisex? Should I start wearing this color? I’ll just try on everything and see.'
“Traditional retail could be convenient consumption for needs but I think vintage stores can provide a timeless variety of products.” - Harin, Co-founder of Pijomul Vintage
Furthermore, Pijomul caters to people who are tired of typical standards of beauty. I love the store because of the owner’s great taste, offering more interesting garments than contemporary designers. After carrying a mound of clothes to the changing room, I spent about 20 minutes rotating through outfits, imagining wearing them outside.
Each purchase is sprayed with Pijomul’s distinct perfume, which remained in my suitcase as I traveled back to the United States, and as I opened it, made me want to go back. This feeling is unlike any traditional retailer. Mapo-gu is a special place with talented vintage sellers sourcing one-of-a-kind garments and creating memorable shopping environments. While conventional apparel is sold at the street level, the real gems are out of site, under and above ground.
Conclusion
Mapo-gu’s vintage scene doesn’t just reflect a love for the past, it redefines what fashion can be in the present. The vintage stores tucked above and below the surface of this Seoul neighborhood offer something increasingly rare: physical spaces where style is tactile, experimental, and deeply personal. These shops aren’t curated by data or dictated by trends – they’re led by individuals with distinct aesthetic visions, offering garments that speak to memory, subculture, and identity. Vintage Santa’s overwhelming archive, Pop Girl’s hyper-stylized femininity, ID Vintage’s offbeat graphics, and Pijomul’s romantic early-2000s glam are more than themes—they’re living expressions of alternative taste. In an industry where sameness is scaled, these places remind us that fashion is still, at its best, about feeling something.
Mapo-gu stands out because it’s not just reacting to fashion’s past—it’s producing new cultural capital by reframing it. In the same way Harajuku once helped shape global perceptions of youth fashion, or Camden in London became a node for alternative style, Mapo-gu’s vintage scene is a grassroots engine of creativity. These are sites where new fashion languages are being spoken—fluent in nostalgia but articulated through a contemporary lens. As the broader industry looks to become more sustainable, more diverse, and more emotionally resonant, spaces like these don’t just offer a way forward—they're already living it. Mapo-gu shows that the future of fashion may not come from the top down, but from underground stairwells and third-floor walk-ups, where style is still intimate, rebellious, and deeply human.
