Authorities roam the area in vans with loudspeaker announcements telling unauthorized vendors to vacate the streets, but recognize that the popularity of Sunday’s treasure hunt is too high to allow for more than momentary control.
Every weekend, hundreds of thousands of people of all ages go on treasure hunts in the heart of Seoul. Locals and tourists alike, many look for bargains on clothes, watches, jewelry, signs, surplus food, decades-old packs of cigarettes and various “only-sold-on-television items” seen in late-night commercials.
There is a lot of ground to cover. This sprawling, informal open-air flea market occupies more than 3.5 miles of streets — about 30 blocks, plus numerous side streets and alleys — in the South Korean capital almost every weekend, year-round, regardless of the weather. But the busiest day for bargain hunters is Sunday, when most vendors hit the streets.
Merchandise overflows from stores onto sidewalks and traffic islands, where vendors dump piles of clothing, kitchenware, gadgets, and even beauty products and perfumes, new and used, for treasure hunters to sift through.
Regulars have created chat groups to share their discoveries with others, while fashion designers come to seek inspiration from customers.
Authorities roam the area in vans with loudspeaker announcements telling unauthorized vendors to vacate the streets — they must have permits — but acknowledge that the popularity of Sunday’s treasure hunt is too high to allow for more than momentary control.
The origins of the market are located in the Sinseol-dong neighborhood, where the Seoul People’s Market is located — a 5,040 square meter space that houses 868 stores. A former school, it was transformed into a market by the municipality in 2008, when the vendors were transferred from another area of Seoul as part of a rehabilitation project.
The Seoul People’s Market quickly began offering outdoor sales on Sundays. Seeing the crowds these events attracted, vendors from neighboring streets opened their own makeshift shops on the sidewalks, eventually spreading into adjacent neighborhoods to form the enormous street market that visitors know today.
Although this particular shopping destination is less than two decades old, Seoul’s street vending culture dates back to the 1960s. After the Korean War, many found it difficult to make money and began selling their belongings to survive. Some began setting up stalls to sell used items, with sellers moving to different parts of the South Korean capital as the areas were rehabilitated over the decades.
A market for everything
Street market vendor Changhoon Han offers everything from vintage cigarette packs to taxi lights (Marianna Kim/CNN)
Changhoon Han runs a second-hand shop on the edge of the street market in Sinseol-dong.
On a recent Sunday morning, he placed a few items prominently on the street, being careful not to let them encroach on the road itself and attract the attention of authorities.
There’s an eclectic mix of items on display: clocks, artwork, sculptures, a taxi sign — and cigarettes?
Han says the decades-old cigarette boxes are not for smoking, but for collecting. It was a real fad among older adults a few years ago, he says, when mid-20th century packs sold out almost as soon as they were displayed.
A poster hanging in Han’s store explains the situation well. “We buy everything”, says the sign.
Avid former collectors of all kinds have sold their collections to him, Han says. Interest wanes, items are sold and new collectors and trends take their place.
“It’s a cycle,” says Han.
Just about 10 steps from the store that sells and buys everything is a dead-end side street, bustling with shoppers rummaging through boxes full of random things, including wires, watches, nail polish, an electric kettle and a few bottles of bee pollen. But mainly tools and materials.
This place doesn’t have a name, but people know it by the location, says a store employee. The seller’s friendliness is what makes customers continue visiting the store.
“He would say, ‘treat yourself to a cup of coffee with this dollar’, while returning a bill that the customer had used to pay for a two-dollar product,” says the man.
Another visitor, Si Hwa Lee, has been coming to the popular market every Sunday after mass for 10 years.
“I never get tired of coming here,” he says. “It’s addictive and exciting to see what unexpected things you can find every week.”
Lee created a chat group with some friends he made at the market, where they share the surprising items they bought and arrange meal dates.
He says some customers take advantage of street sales as a way to earn extra money, buying items to then resell them online. If you look closely, you’ll find big-ticket items selling at very discounted prices — like audio equipment worth $650 selling for $20, he says.
And it’s possible to find things with peculiar histories, like movie filming props or videos brought back by celebrities who didn’t know where else to get rid of them.
Decisions, decisions
Look long enough and you’ll eventually find your treasure, say fans of Seoul’s Sunday street market (Charlie Miller/CNN)
While the Sinseol-dong area of Seoul seems to have a modicum of control over street vending, if you head west towards the Dongmyo area, things get busier and even overwhelming. This neighborhood, where two main metro lines intersect, is famous for its second-hand market. The overall environment is chaotic and dusty, which contributes to the frenetic treasure-hunting energy that runs through the streets.
Just choosing which street to turn on here can be a challenge, with corners and intersections overflowing with piles of stuff to sift through in search of that nugget that will make the treasure hunt a success.
And hesitation can be your undoing.
A buyer on a recent visit spent 10 minutes examining a designer watch. “Is it real or fake?” the buyer asks the seller.
“I can’t say, I don’t have documentation”, replies the seller, but points out that its selling price is far, far below what this watch would cost at retail.
“I’ll be back later,” says the potential buyer. And when he returns, 20 minutes later, the watch seller is putting the watch in a plastic bag, while the new buyer has a mischievous smile on his face.
The sales pitch
Robert Kim, who sells leather fabrics, uses music to attract buyers’ attention (Marianna Kim/CNN)
In addition to the eccentric mix of items available, sellers are not afraid to use their selling points.
A street vendor says that what he is offering will bring pleasure in the bedroom. Another says it has the perfect item for keeping your calf muscles toned.
Robert Kim sells small pieces of leather — and sings the Beatles’ hit “Love Me Do” to make shoppers stop and stare.
Kim says she has been singing in her store for six years, simply because she enjoys it. The Covid-19 pandemic led him to think: “I should do whatever I want, because you only live once.”
Pop songs from the 1970s make up the majority of its playlist, as its aim is to sing songs that buyers are familiar with, and most of them are from an older age group, it says.
The vintage trendsetter
Caption
While this may be true for leather artisans, the Dongmyo area of the street market attracts visitors of all ages, many of them due to its vast selection of vintage clothing.
A 22-year-old college student, just named Park, says he came to Dongmyo in search of camouflage patterns, having chosen to visit the area because of its role in sparking the vintage trend that is sweeping Seoul and because he was convinced by Instagram videos showing some of the treasures shoppers have found there.
For example, the camouflage trend likely started with many older local residents wearing military clothing in the Dongmyo and Dongdaemun areas, says Park.
In fact, it was the style of these older adults that caught the attention of famous Bulgarian fashion designer Kiko Kostadinov in 2018. He published stories and posts on Instagram, referring to it as the “best street in the world.”
A few years later, he launched the 2024 collections with Prada and Asics, which some fashion observers say were inspired by the styles he saw on the streets of Dongmyo.
While these streets may help set trends, they also go against them, at least in one respect. There is so much to see — and so much to miss due to lack of attention — that few people keep their eyes on their cell phones while walking around the area.
Unwritten rules of the hunt
Patient treasure hunters are known for making great finds at the market. (Charlie Miller/CNN)
As dusk descends on a recent Sunday, two teenagers spend minutes sifting through a mountain of watch faces and straps with their smartphone’s flashlight on, looking for a Louis Vuitton watch — a true treasure.
Two young women in their 20s are also crouched down, sifting through the thousands of watches.
“These are for men, these are for women, I’m not going to explain that again,” the owner explains loudly, as the women laugh.
Sometimes things can even get a little dramatic.
Buyers may dispute items and sellers may conflict with customers.
Tae-sung Ha has dealt with many rude customers. When a customer throws a disposable e-cigarette on the ground during CNN’s visit, he stops it. “Hey, you don’t throw other people’s belongings. Don’t make me mad,” he says as the customer storms away.
But good manners bring good business. A woman can even haggle over the price of a frying pan for eggs, just by asking politely.
Nearby, a tattooed cyclist stops to ask Ha the price of an enormous axe, big enough to be used as a weapon in a Viking war.
Ha’s merchandise encapsulates the spirit of this Sunday phenomenon in Seoul — a disposable e-cigarette, a frying pan and a six-foot-tall axe. It would be difficult to imagine a more random mix of items you might find in a single stall. But that’s what makes this Sunday phenomenon in Seoul unique.
