The Most Dangerous Contraband in North Korea Isn’t a Weapon. It’s a Wish.
By: Jihyun Kang
Growing up in North Korea, Jihyun took inspiration from the smuggled South Korean dramas she watched to create her own unique clothing. After reaching freedom in 2010, she has continued to pursue her interests in fashion and culture as a catalyst for change. She runs several business ventures, practices fine art under the name “Da Gyeol,” and works with the Ministry of Unification as an advisor. She’s pursuing her Masters in Entrepreneurship, Dept. of Future Science & Technology Business, at Korea University.
I grew up in North Korea, and at fifteen, I encountered a Westerner for the first time at the top of Mount Paektu. He stood over 190 centimeters tall with a thick beard, wearing ripped jeans and a frayed T-shirt. In North Korea, worn-out clothing was a symbol of deprivation. Yet my father whispered, "He is wearing that for style." With that single remark, the worldview I had been taught, began, the first time, to crack. And I thought: I want to dress like that, too.
Fashion is more than clothing. It is the moment when individual desire moves faster than collective command. People follow taste before ideology, and express themselves through what they wear long before any political declaration.
A state can enforce a dress code, but it cannot manufacture desire. That is why North Korea's fear of blue jeans was not irrational—it was the regime recognizing, however dimly, that something it could not control was already growing.
Clayton Christensen, a professor at Harvard Business School, argued that transformation always begins at the margins—in forms so crude and insignificant that those in power dismiss them entirely. Christensen built his theory around corporations, but the logic applies to any system that holds a monopoly over its people, including a state. North Korea's regime was so focused on maintaining ideological control at the centre that it ignored what was happening at the bottom.
That bottom was the jangmadang—the spontaneous, bottom-up market ecosystem created by ordinary people to survive after the collapse of North Korea's state-led distribution system. When that system imploded during the Arduous March—a famine in the mid-1990s that killed hundreds of thousands—people built informal markets out of sheer necessity: not revolution, not ideology, but survival. Yet by 2018, a CSIS study found 436 officially recognized markets operating across the country. What began as a desperate improvisation had quietly become the infrastructure keeping North Koreans alive.
These markets did not merely sell food. They became conduits for Chinese clothing, USB drives loaded with South Korean dramas, and glimpses of a world no one had taught them existed. When a system ignores what people actually want, the market finds the gap.
The act of choosing—what to eat, what to wear, what to watch—may seem trivial. But a person who has tasted choice cannot fully return to obedience.
The jangmadang was the first place where North Koreans learned they could survive without the state. That desire did not stay underground—it surfaced. People began wearing jeans, dyeing their hair, and pulling on T-shirts printed with foreign letters. The regime could no longer ignore it. Authorities branded jeans and Western fashion as 'anti-socialist infiltrations' and deployed street patrols. Teenagers caught in these sweeps were sent to re-education camps; in severe cases, their names and home addresses were read aloud on state broadcasts as public shaming (Radio Free Asia).
In 2024, state-run Korean Central Television went so far as to blur the jeans worn by British TV presenter Alan Titchmarsh during a broadcast. The ruling party's official newspaper, the Rodong Sinmun, warned that a country could 'become vulnerable and eventually collapse like a damp wall' if it failed to preserve its own way of life (Newsweek, May 2021).
Regulations cannot extinguish human desire; they only raise the price of the forbidden. This is the inflection point Christensen identified: by the time an incumbent recognizes the threat, it is already too late.
To date, more than 34,000 North Koreans have resettled in South Korea (South Korean Ministry of Unification, 2024). At the start of each of those journeys, there was something like my pair of jeans—not ideology, but desire; not a declaration, but a taste; not revolution, but the market.
No government in history has ever successfully suppressed the human impulse to trade, to choose, to want more. Not the Soviet Union. Not Cuba. Not Mao's China. North Korea will not be the exception.
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Jihyun is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.
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Creating home: An Interview with our U.S. Resettlement Assistance Manager
While the majority of the North Koreans who come through our rescue network wish to resettle in South Korea, a small group choose to come to the United States. Drawn by family, friends, and new opportunities, they resettle all across the country. Because resettlement to the U.S. comes with its own set of unique challenges—mainly the language barrier—we have programs specially designed to help North Koreans find their footing in their first few years. Our U.S. resettlement manager Kris explains the details of the resettlement process and her work with LiNK in more detail.
Describe a normal day at your job.
What’s cool about my job is that no work day is the same. From helping a North Korean register for school to purchasing bikes for a family (both are things I have done very recently), every day is different. I travel quite often to visit refugees and to meet with partner organizations. I also spend a lot of time researching government and community benefits, changes in immigration laws, and educational resources. I will say that the two services I provide almost every day are translation and interpretation.
What do you enjoy most about your job?
The North Korean friends we work with are pretty awesome. It really is my privilege to be able to work with such an amazing group of people. I get to help them but I also learn so much. My job never gets boring. They challenge me to do more and be better. My colleagues at LiNK are pretty cool, too. =)
What is the most difficult part about your job? What was most surprising about the work you do?
The number of North Korean refugees who have resettled in the US is pretty small so people tend to put them in one group and form generalized opinions about them. But what I learned over the years and what some people might find surprising is that each person is so unique in their backgrounds, family dynamics, worldviews, reasons for defection, life goals and dreams. It’s challenging to be able to assess and meet their differing needs and help them reach not only self-sufficiency but also the eventual self-actualization and fulfillment. But I’m proud of the individualized and flexible case management that we have been able to offer to the people we serve. As we expand our work, I hope we will continue to have capacity to offer individualized care.
What are some of the challenges that our North Korean friends face as they resettle here in the US?
There are so many. Most common ones would be language and cultural barriers. Access to transportation is a huge challenge because although many states offer driver’s license exams in Korean, there are some that don’t, so the refugees have to learn English first in order to take the driver’s license exam. Some of the more recent and regionally-specific challenges are lack of affordable housing and immediate employment opportunities.
What are some of the challenges in running a North Korean refugee post-resettlement program here in the United States?
The fact that the people we work with are scattered all over the country makes it difficult to do anything in-person. Geography has always been the biggest challenge for me because I’d love for us to be more accessible to the refugees and do more in-person programs with them. Most refugee agencies serve local communities because it’s difficult to be a direct service provider from afar. We have to be creative to stay connected to the people we serve. One good thing that the pandemic did was normalizing virtual communication, and we were able to successfully execute an entrepreneurship program and a mentorship program virtually during the pandemic.
What was one of your most memorable events in this role?
Not long after one of our clients died in a car accident, I flew out to see her minor children. I knew that no words would bring comfort to them at that point. I took them out to see a movie and we went to get our nails done. Of course, we got some boba afterwards. Then per their request, we went out to a hot pot restaurant for dinner, and there we ran into some people from their church. The people assured me that the children will be taken care of and the community will be there for them. I went out there to bring some comfort for the children, but instead, I was the one that was comforted more than anyone. It’s just one of those days that I’ll always remember.
What is something you wish the world knew about North Korea or the North Korean people?
Maybe I can just say something about the North Korean refugees, rather than the entire country of North Korea or the North Korean people inside the country. North Korean refugees, in their defection and resettlement process, have gone through so many unimaginable obstacles and have overcome them with such incredible resilience and determination. I believe that they have this amazing potential to overcome any barriers and to succeed in their new life. I hope the whole world understands this and welcomes the refugees with open arms.
