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Pyongyang calling: we spent a week in North Korea - video

Fake Adidas and Hello Kitty: a taste of consumerism for North Korea’s elite

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Kim Jong-Un is quietly allowing a tightly controlled fortunate few in Pyongyang access to designer knock-offs, smartphones and even a version of Amazon

At the Ryuwon shoe factory in Pyongyang, Adidas trainers gleam on a stand beside the production line, a personal gift from dictator Kim Jong-un to inspire workers churning out imitations for the North Korean faithful.

“The Great Marshall sent shoes from other countries so the workers can see and touch them,” said the factory guide. Kim’s style hints have been embraced. The factory showroom boasts virtual copies of western brands from Puma to Nike, alongside more experimental hybrids, including Asics patterns on a loafer sole.

Footwear design may seem an incongruous concern for a man more famous for building up his nuclear arsenal, assassinating relatives and playing high-stakes diplomatic games with US President Donald Trump. But Kim has been managing a transition of sorts for his hermit nation.

His vision of change is not political. Kim has held tight to the dynastic personality cult, the brutal police state bolstered by a gulag network, and the official ideology of isolationist self-reliance handed down by his father and grandfather.

Kim has held tight to the dynastic personality cult inherited from his father and grandfather. Photograph: Ekaterina Ochagavia/The Guardian

Instead, he has apparently decided that life should become a little more pleasant for the tiny, tightly controlled elite – a little bit more like the vision of westernised consumer society that slips into the country through strictly banned, but eagerly consumed, foreign films and television shows.

The opaque nature of North Korean society means there has been no official acknowledgement of the rise of this carefully managed version of consumer society, much less any insight into why Kim has allowed it to flourish on his watch. But last week one possible explanation came from Oh Chong Song, a soldier who made a dramatic dash across the border in a hail of bullets last year.

In his first interview since the extraordinary defection, Oh, who appears to have belonged to this gilded world, said Kim faced a lack of loyalty from his peers even though they must pay lip service to the dynasty in public.

“People my age, about 80% of them are indifferent,” he told Japanese paper Sankei Shimbun. “Not being able to feed the people properly, but the hereditary succession keeps going on – that results in indifference and no loyalty.”

The son of a major general, Oh described himself as “upper class” and said most members of the North Korean elite had a well-developed taste for imported pleasures, despite the formal doctrine of self-reliance.

“North Korean people condemn Japan in politics, but respect Japan in economics,” he said, citing the Nissan Patrol SUVs used exclusively by military officers as one example of the taste for Japanese goods.

For decades an indulgence limited to the Kim dynasty and their tight inner circle, this kind of imported luxury today offers Kim a way of co-opting his elite – or at least distracting them.

Taxis – whose lowest fares are the equivalent of a month’s salary for many workers – wait outside a shop selling imported goods. Photograph: Ekaterina Ochagavia/The Guardian

At state-run supermarkets in the capital Pyongyang – where most of the elite cluster – journalists on an official tour earlier this year saw shoppers browsing shelves of counterfeit Pumas and Nikes, real Colgate toothpaste and Pampers nappies, Japanese whiskey, and even cans of Californian La Tourangelle walnut oil, on sale for around $30 (£23).

Taxis waited outside to whisk the fortunate few around the city’s vast, empty roads. The fare for a single ride starts at around 16,000 won, equivalent to just under $2 at the black market exchange rate used by North Koreans, but around a month’s wages for many workers in the capital.

In parks and monuments, families enjoying a day out snapped photos on smartphones as they do around the world, and on the metro commuters stared into screens, tapping messages and scrolling through pictures.

The increasing presence of smartphones and the loosening of unofficial restrictions around clothing and jewellery are all marks of change – for the elite, at least. Photograph: Ekaterina Ochagavia/The Guardian

Communication with the world beyond North Korea is strictly barred, but there is an internal network with data as well as calls, and even a North Korean answer to Amazon, selling everything from connector cables to clothes.

Visitors to the country, including journalists, are only allowed in on tightly controlled tours, where they are constantly monitored by government minders and must follow a strict itinerary. That suggested North Korean authorities wanted journalists to see something of this expanding consumer society, and its nod to individualism.

It is a far cry from the images of frugality, uniformity and military-style mass coordination – epitomised in weapons parades and “mass games” – that the country has traditionally presented to the world.

“I think he (Kim) really wants this lifestyle; he is not a fan of austerity, he grew up in the consumer culture of the west and he sees it as both normal and good,” said Professor Andrei Lankov of Kookmin University in Seoul.

Hello Kitty and other characters now appear on clothing and accessories of the elite – symbols of a capitalist world North Korean leaders have long denounced. Photograph: Ekaterina Ochagavia/The Guardian

“This is pretty much how the elite, old apparatchik and new bourgeoisie class are living now. They want consumption, material pleasures, and a measure of consumer choice, and they are getting it.”

The loosening of controls is only for a fortunate few. Most North Koreans still face a daily grind of poverty and deprivation. One in five of the country’s children are stunted, an indicator of malnutrition, according to tUnicef, and 40% of adults are undernourished.

Statistics are hard to come by in Pyongyang, but analysts who follow North Korea think perhaps 10% of the 25 million population belong to what is effectively a new middle class.

Only a tiny fraction of that elite can afford to travel around the capital in cabs shopping for designer knock-offs, and even the most luxurious state-provided benefits can seem relatively modest by western standards.

At a high-rise apartment block of model homes, residents had all furniture and furnishings assigned by the state, and kept their bath and spare buckets filled with water because supply is intermittent, although no one complains.

“Water is provided three times a day,” explained housewife Ro Kyong Ae, whose husband is a prominent science professor. “I love this apartment.”

The young leader, who had his own uncle purged and probably ordered the dramatic assassination of his own brother, has shown no interest in democracy, nor loosening controls that enforce his rule. Instead they are likely the result of careful calculation.

Even a somewhat more comfortable life gives a slice of North Korean society more of a stake in the regime’s survival, however, and less reason to consider defection or opposition.

Kim may in part be embracing the economic realities of his country, in a world where no country will sponsor state provision as the Soviet Union did. Informal, semi-legal commerce has become vital to feeding North Korea, and the black market funnels money into North Korea, including kickbacks that feed the state.

Using carefully managed tours for foreigners and a trickle of freedom to an elite class, North Korea seems to be trying to dilute the image of its people as virtual automatons. Photograph: Ekaterina Ochagavia/The Guardian

“It is probably not only a matter of policy, I also don’t think even if he wants to stop it he can, because there are limits on what he can control and also North Korea needs money,” said Lankov.

“He’s the most pragmatic leader North Korea has had in decades. He knows if he starts closing the opportunities to earn money, they will loose the desire to work. If people don’t have things to buy, why will they try to earn money?”

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Another consideration may be public relations. For a country constantly if quietly fishing for international aid, and fighting sanctions imposed over nuclear weapons and other programmes, the world’s view of its government is extremely important.

He has transformed the face North Korea shows to outsiders with carefully curated trips, most tours feature prestige projects including a new waterpark, a sprawling science museum, high-rise apartments and new fairgrounds.

Some were begun under his father, but together they have become emblems of a country that wants to dilute the image of its people as virtual automatons by projecting as much proficiency at building nuclear weapons as “superman” style rollercoasters.

Women wear more subtle giveaways of change on their ears and around their necks. For decades badges with portraits of the Kim dynasty were the only adornment allowed in North Korea – under an unofficial dress code that also prohibited trousers and bright colours for young women.

Now trousers, necklaces and the occasional pop of colour or set of ear studs can be spotted on the most fashionable young women in Pyongyang, possibly inspired by Kim Jong-un’s fashion-conscious wife Ri Sol Ju. The couple have broken decades of precedent by appearing together in public, with Ri often wearing jewellery and carrying designer bags.

For children of the elite, images of Hello Kitty and Winnie the Pooh are painted on bags and umbrellas – enduring symbols of a capitalist world that North Koreans have long been taught to denounce. And just as the shifting boundaries of fashion have been set by the first couple, it’s clear that a directive to spend – for the few who have the cash – comes right from the top.

Pride of place at the Pyongyang bag factory is a mural size photo of Kim Jong-un beaming at a children’s backpack with a cheery cartoon rabbit emblazoned on its front, apparently seized by a desire to spend.

“When the Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un was here, he was really satisfied with the bag with the rabbit,” the factory guide explained. “He even said had had a feeling he wants to buy it.”

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