Loony Lunes

If you can't tell, I like kpop || For assignment purposes

[loonylunes]

#enhypenis7

Hi, hello there, welcome. First of all, please don’t be taken aback by the title. Try reading it again.

It all started on a beautiful afternoon in March 10, 2026, when Heeseung, a member of the hit 7-member kpop group Enhypen, announces his departure from the group to pursue a solo career. It really happened out of the blue, and fans; or so we call them Engenes, are appalled, shocked, confused, and so it came the hashtag: #enhypenis7. It was a call for the fandom to come together and, well, try to convince the internet and the company behind Enhypen, HYBE, to bring Heeseung back to the group.

So what’s the correlation between Heeseung’s case and my actual topic: Digital Citizenship, Hashtag Publics, Political Engagement and Activism?

So it is a given that #enhypenis7 is a movement by kpop fans; Engenes, particularly, on X (formerly Twitter), and probably on Instagram. In other words, it's an act of protest, with the use of hashtags publics, by digital citizens, on a digital platform community.

As Ribble (2008) notes, Digital Citizenship refers to the norms of appropriate, responsible behavior online. It goes beyond just using technology—it includes digital rights, responsibilities, and the ability to engage thoughtfully in online communities. In today’s world, being a good digital citizen means understanding how your posts, shares, and hashtags contribute to (or harm) broader conversations. While Hashtag Publics (Rambukkana, 2015) describe the fluid, ad-hoc publics that form around specific hashtags. These are not traditional audiences but dynamic discursive networks where people assemble around shared issues, emotions, or identities. Hashtags enable visibility, collective action, and the blending of personal and political expression.

#enhypenis7 exemplifies hashtag publics in action. On X and Instagram, kpop netizens, not even those who are particularly fans of Enhypen, mobilized through coordinated trends, petitions, emotional storytelling, fan art, and calls for solidarity. What began as fandom grief quickly turned into a form of protest and collective advocacy. Couldry (2011) argues in Why Voice Matters that in a neoliberal context, having a voice—being able to speak and be heard—is a fundamental cultural and political value. Digital platforms can amplify voice but also risk undermining it through unequal structures and algorithmic control.

This is digital citizenship at work: fans exercising their voices as engaged participants in a platform-mediated community, using available tools to challenge corporate decisions (Couldry, 2011).

I will not argue that Heeseung’s case is anything comparable to actual social or political protests (like the #MeToo movement), but I feel like it’s an event that’s deeply relatable to me as a chronically online kpop fan. If you ask me, I feel as though these movements share the same spirit. As a digital citizen, joining these movements makes you feel part of something bigger, almost like practicing democracy in miniature. You learn to navigate algorithms, counter opposing voices, and build temporary alliances.

Yet, as Couldry has noted (and I’ve experienced), there are limits: hashtags can fade quickly, emotional burnout is real, and not all engagement leads to tangible change. So really, are we actually contributing responsibly… or just adding noise to a discursive network?

References:

Couldry, N. (2011). Why voice matters: Culture and politics after neoliberalism. Sage Publications.

Rambukkana, N. (Ed.). (2015). Hashtag publics: The power and politics of discursive networks. Peter Lang.

Ribble, M. (2008). Passport to digital citizenship. Learning & Leading with Technology, 36(4), 14–17.

Ribble, M. S., & Bailey, G. D. (2004). Digital citizenship focus questions for implementation. Learning & Leading with Technology, 32(2), 12–15.

[loonylunes]

They don’t dress them like losers anymore

Hi, hello there, welcome back again.

“They don’t debut losers like this anymore,”

It’s something I see and hear a lot these few years around the kpop community. Fans who have been in the scene for a longer time in general, are mourning the fact that younger generations of kpop idols are seemingly debuting in more polished and coordinated outfits, rather than just looking like awkward, random teenagers that the companies got off the streets.

It is true to a certain extent. Other than simply because fashion aesthetics has changed quite a lot for the last decade or two, I’d like to note that the pacing and expectations for kpop idols and how they’re styled for performances have changed drastically too. I’d like to pull out an example of Yena’s recent hit track “Catch Catch”, which, if you didn’t know, her stage styling for this song has gained popularity for being extremely creative, witty, playful, and just overall is perfect for such an upbeat and cutesy song. Not just Yena’s styling team, many kpop styling teams have shown an impeccable sense of creativity in modding clothing pieces and putting them together so it’s an one-of-a-kind, tailored to each idol and song. This level of creativity is exciting to watch, but it comes with a hidden cost, I’d say.

The kpop industry we know today operates at a breakneck speed, and is evolving into a more systematic pipeline. Idols juggle one comeback after another, top it off with music show performances, photoshoots, and promotions like there’s no end. They’re expected to look fresh and unique for every stage, which means constant outfit changes. Repeating the same stage outfit is *very* rare. This high turnover inevitably leads to a lot of fashion waste — unused garments, discarded samples, and fast-produced clothing with short lifespans.

This brings us to the heart of this blog post, as I question issues of fast fashion culture in K-pop and the growing Slow Fashion Movement.

Let’s start with, what exactly is fast and slow fashion? 

Fast fashion is a business model characterized by the rapid design, production, and marketing of inexpensive clothing that mimics current trends. Fast fashion brands (namely Zara, H&M, Shein) release new styles frequently at low prices, encouraging consumers to buy more and discard items quickly (Olivar Aponte, 2024). Cheap labor, synthetic materials, and high-volume production leads to enormous environmental harm: the fashion industry is held accountable for about 10% of global CO2 emissions, massive water consumption, and huge textile waste, with millions of garments ending up in landfills every year (Bick et al., 2018; Earth.Org, 2026).

Slow fashion, in contrast, is a movement that prioritizes quality over quantity, ethical labor, sustainable materials, and garment longevity. It encourages mindful consumption and challenges the disposable culture of fast fashion. Marquis (2021) explains that slow fashion is about slowing down production and consumption while considering social and environmental impacts. Brewer (2019) stresses the need for sustainability and responsibility in a fast fashion-dominated world. Joy et al. (2012) highlight how fast fashion drives overconsumption while luxury brands market an “ethical appeal.”

The kpop industry, in my opinion, has a complicated, almost symbiotic relationship with fast fashion. On one hand, kpop acts as a major driver of fast fashion consumption. Idols require dozens of unique stage outfits for many occasions, because concepts change frequently and repetition is avoided to keep content feeling fresh, so outfits are more often used only once or twice before being discarded or archived. This high-turnover model mirrors fast fashion’s core logic: rapid production of trendy, disposable items. Kim (2019) explores this tension in “Beauty and the Waste,” showing how K-pop music videos function like digital runways that fuel endless consumption while sometimes subtly critiquing it. In South Korea, fast fashion culture is particularly intense, contributing to hundreds of thousands of tonnes of textile waste annually (Doorduin, 2025). 

Despite being an overconsumer in such culture, there are some notable positive shifts emerging within the industry. Awareness towards ethical and sustainable fashion is growing, and with that in mind, certain groups and agencies are collaborating with sustainable and upcycling brands such as RE;CODE, KANGHYUK, and Popsiz (Tolley, 2023). For instance, at the 76th United Nations General Assembly, all seven members of BTS wore repurposed suits by RE;CODE in honor of their speeches at the UN for Sustainable Development Goals. They looked astonishing, and being the biggest boy group in the world as they are, this move held major significance in influencing, as well as raising awareness in sustainable fashion (Widjojo, 2021).

BTS for the United Nations (2021)

So in the end, in an industry as fast paced and ever evolving as kpop, fashion trends tend to come and go just as fast, and it's nice to observe how there’s progress in putting sustainability in mind when it comes to fashion, despite the pipeline of making single-use stage outfits remain in the scene. Maybe we’ll see more sustainable and eco-friendly acts in kpop when it comes to fashion in the near future, I’d be most excited about that!

References:

Bick, R., Halsey, E., & Ekenga, C. C. (2018). The global environmental injustice of fast fashion. Environmental Health, 17(92). https://doi.org/10.1186/s12940-018-0433-7

Brewer, M. K. (2019). Slow fashion in a fast fashion world: Promoting sustainability and responsibility. Laws, 8(4), Article 24. https://doi.org/10.3390/laws8040024

Joy, A., Sherry, J. F., Jr., Venkatesh, A., Wang, J., & Chan, R. (2012). Fast fashion, sustainability, and the ethical appeal of luxury brands. Fashion Theory, 16(3), 273–295. https://doi.org/10.2752/175174112X13340749707123

Kim, S. Y. (2019). Beauty and the waste: Fashioning idols and the ethics of recycling in Korean pop music videos. Fashion Theory. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/331524087_Beauty_and_the_Waste_Fashioning_Idols_and_the_Ethics_of_Recycling_in_Korean_Pop_Music_Videos

Marquis, C. (2021, May 25). What does slow fashion “actually” mean? Forbes.

Olivar Aponte, N. (2024). Fast fashion consumption and its environmental impact: A literature review. Journal of Environmental Studies and Sciences. https://doi.org/10.1080/15487733.2024.2381871

Tolley, H. (2023). Part 1: Exploring eco-friendly initiatives in the K-pop industry. KAESA. https://kaesa.co/blogs/news/part-1-exploring-eco-friendly-initiatives-in-the-k-pop-industry

Widjojo, C. (2021, September 21). BTS Looks to Sustainable Fashion for Appearance at U.N. Headquarters. WWD. https://wwd.com/fashion-news/fashion-scoops/feature/bts-un-headquarters-speech-performance-fashion-1234935293/ 

[loonylunes]

Pick me pick me up!

Hi, hello there, welcome back. Today we’re talking about a whole different type of pick-me-girls and pick-me-boys.

If anyone is keeping up with kpop, it’s not hard to receive the news that there's a new Korean idol group survival show that just got announced. Carrying on the spirit of the Produce series (which got scrapped, due to unfortunate circumstances), CJ ENM, or Mnet, came out with a whole new Planet series, and as of 2026, they’ve just announced Girls Planet 2.

Now, I am also a victim, I mean, an enjoyer of such idol group survival shows myself, my favourite being the Produce 101 Japan series and the Boys Planet series. I consider myself an active member of these fandoms — I had my fair share of experiences when it comes to voting, streaming, debating rankings, and bonding with other fans online.

Back in 2016, when Produce 101 was released, it was revolutionary. It opened markets, business aspects, and so, so many opportunities in the idol industry. And 10 years later, the market now is so saturated with these survival reality TVs that I’d comment as “getting a little out of hand”.

Let’s start off with the term “fan”. The term "fan" has been used continuously since the 19th century, and the term "fandom" dates from the turn of the 20th century. Fan and fandom originally referred to fans of sports clubs and, shortly after, the rapidly expanding science fiction fan bases, like the Marvel comics, or the Star Wars franchise, you name it. Right, and have I yet to mention that, organized fan communities existed prior to these groups? Wayyy back in the 1800s, readers of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's stories, for instance, corresponded with his fictional creation and lamented the death of Sherlock Holmes (Littlejohn & Foss, 2009). In every case, whenever we say someone is a 'fan' of something, it almost always hints at some or all of the following: 1. they're into it as an amateur (not professionally), 2. they have a real fascination and emotional investment in it, and 3. they're often actively engaging with it, usually alongside other people as a fun leisure activity.

Being a fan is fun, coming from a person just cannot be casual for anything. It's an amazing experience to have when you genuinely like something, and not just want to be a casual consumer. Some showmakers lure into that idea, and they come up with reality TV that allows you and many others like you, to engage with the show, and dare I say, prove your love to it.

According to Henry Jenkins (2006) in Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers, participatory culture is where fans don’t passively consume media but actively participate, create, and influence outcomes. The format of reality TV itself is designed for this kind of engagement too. Metz (2007) notes that reality television blends real-life drama with strategic editing to generate strong emotional investment and audience loyalty. When combined with social media and voting systems, it creates an addictive loop of participation. In addition to that, Busse (2009) adds important context that fandom involves deep emotional investment, communal engagement, and amateur creativity. Media fans, especially of television and pop culture, often sit at the center of media convergence, where producers and audiences blur together.

We can link this back to reality survival shows like Produce 101 and many others; in these shows, viewers are encouraged to vote, create fan content, trend hashtags, and build massive online communities that directly impact which trainee will debut. This turns fandom into a digital participatory practice. A recent article in The Korea Times (Pyo, 2025) highlights why these K-pop survival programs remain popular despite declining TV ratings. Much of their appeal comes from fan participation. In Produce 101, viewers are called “national producers,” giving fans a real sense of ownership and responsibility to choose the final debut lineup, and this “viewer nickname” tradition still goes on even today. This builds deep loyalty and turns the viewing experience into a narrative fans can invest in emotionally (the “dopamine chase” of discovering and supporting trainees). Even with lower viewership, groups like ZEROBASEONE (from Boys Planet) proved that strong fandoms built through these shows drive massive album sales and long-term success.

In my experience, it was always a contest; not in a bad way, but it was clear that some trainees have more love from the audience than others, and that was reflected on weekly rankings of the show, sometimes even regardless of how the producers try to, in our words, “rig” the rankings. It was a standoff of your love and support for your favorite trainee, based on how many votes you were willing to give them, or did you participate in support groups outside of the show. It was a bloodbath, I’m not going to lie. But was it enjoyable as a fan? Well, I suppose so.

Though sometimes it makes me wonder; Are we truly participating freely, or are we being skillfully guided into free labour for entertainment companies?

What do you think?

(P.S. I am still SO not over ZB1's disbandmentㅠㅠ)

Reference List:

Busse, K. (2009). Fans, fandom, and fan studies. In S. W. Littlejohn & K. A. Foss (Eds.), Encyclopedia of communication theory. SAGE Publications. https://sk.sagepub.com/ency/edvol/communicationtheory/chpt/fans-fandom-fan-studies

Jenkins, H. (2006). Fans, bloggers, and gamers: Exploring participatory culture. New York University Press.

Metz, W. (2007). How reality TV works. HowStuffWorks. https://entertainment.howstuffworks.com/reality-tv.htm

Pyo, K. (2025, July 17). What makes K-pop audition programs so popular? The Korea Times. https://www.koreatimes.co.kr/entertainment/k-pop/20250717/what-makes-k-pop-survival-audition-programs-so-popular