The Look That Sells The Sound: How K-Pop Wears Black Style

Alanah Amponsah
1 day ago
5 min read

Appreciation or Appropriation?

*Via 'YouTube' - BTS No More Dream Official Music Video*

I was fairly late to the ‘Korean Wave’, only jumping on the BTS bandwagon in late 2019—by then, they’d already sold out Wembley Stadium.

What initially drew me to the group was this unexpected cultural connection I seemed to have with their earlier releases. It wasn't just about the music. I was completely struck by their synchronic styling, especially with how relevant it felt to me despite both the language and cultural differences.

It was from there that I would grow to understand that K-Pop is fundamentally driven by ‘the look’, and it is precisely this look that has allowed the genre to become the multi-billion dollar global industry that it is today. It would take me slightly longer, however, to realise the significance of this look when we consider its cultural consequences.

When I really began to get swept up into the BTS surge in my later teens, I would return to these earlier releases only to feel uncomfortable. The ‘bad boy’ concept behind their ‘No More Dream’ music video really started to stick out to me; from rapper Namjoon Kim’s ‘afro-styled’ hair, to the oversized sports jerseys, to the gold chains and bandanas, it all started to feel strangely familiar. Suddenly, I was able to piece together why this had all seemed so ‘cool’.

It had been done before. And by the very artists I grew up listening to at my family barbecues. Hip-Hop and R&B aesthetics, pioneered by Black creatives, seemed to be at the very forefront of this ‘look’ K-Pop was trying to export worldwide.

And it’s undeniably working. But what does it mean for the culture when one of the world’s most image-driven genres builds its ‘look’ on someone else’s cultural language?

The Power of the ‘Look’

From its early days in the 90s, K-Pop has always been as much about its visuals as its music. It was the perfect weapon in, what was then, a very limited arsenal of soft power that would allow South Korean media to bridge the cultural gap between East and West.

Its creative directors, stylists, and make-up artists behind the scenes continue to drive the industry forward, and have done so long before English lyrics became common. It was through hand-picked choreography, uniform styling, and cinematic polish that they were able to transcend borders. Each new comeback is effectively a new collection, and there is very real profit to be made when fashion is able to function effectively as a global language.

The Borrowed Blueprint

K-Pop’s fixation with Black aesthetics has been directly woven into the fabric of the genre from its birth. Debuting in 1992, Seo Taiji and Boys, often credited as the first K-Pop group, had a style heavily influenced by the Black American Hip-Hop and New Jack Swing artists of their time.

And that comes as no surprise when Seoul’s underground rap-dance scene was built in the image of the Black American Hip-Hop culture booming across the Pacific. Both their sound and styling made that influence unmistakable—decked out in the same oversized denim, heavy metal hardware, and streetwear silhouettes that we now recognise as inseparable from Black figures in Hip Hop and R&B.

The borrowing without credit began here first, before being embedded within the genre. This push to create a look that could appeal internationally sustained an ethos of costuming black culture into K-Pop in some of the earliest stages of its development, a pattern that would leave the industry grappling with cultural ignorance for years to come.

*Via Pinterest - Lisa in BlackPink's 'Kill This Love' Music Video*

Costuming Hip-Hop

It goes beyond mere inspiration. To some, it might just look like streetwear: sagged jeans, chains, oversized silhouettes, sneakers. But the pieces these stylists choose aren’t just fashion choices; they’re cultural signifiers, each loaded with a history of struggle turned to pride. In K-Pop, though, they’re often stripped of that weight and reimagined as props; symbols of ‘coolness’ that have been polished for global consumption.

The effect is shocking. For years, idols have been celebrated for ‘embracing’ hip-hop culture, a euphemism that often meant appropriating it. Blackpink’s Lisa wearing braids in ‘Kill this Love’ or EXO’s Kai donning a durag in ‘Mmmh’ weren’t just visual moments; they were performances of black culture. Yet behind the gloss and the choreography lies a silence; a failure to engage with the lived realities and deep-rooted histories that those styles carry.

Still, to understand K-Pop’s visual power, we have to acknowledge that this balance of cultural appropriation and appreciation is a complex topic. It’s an industry built on reinvention; a cultural remix that thrives on aesthetic borrowing and meticulous execution. But does that justify its continued resistance to educating itself on the very cultures it chooses to repurpose?

K-Pop wears its influences openly, curating them into carefully formulated concepts with the power to reach audiences all over the world. And with that reach should come a responsibility to understand, credit, and respect the sources of the style that made the genre global in the first place.

*Via K-en News - Cortis from their 'FaSHioN' Official Music Video*

Looking to the Future of K-Pop

As K-Pop continues to set the global standard for fashion and spectacle in the music industry, the conversation needs to do more to criticise persisting cultural ignorance.

More idols and creative teams are beginning to recognise this. P1Harmony’s Keeho has openly said that K-Pop carries a responsibility to respect Black culture; to understand that the genre’s sound, choreography, and fashion are all built on foundations laid by Black creatives.

We’re starting to see subtle but meaningful progress. The debut of global groups like Katseye under Hybe, one of South Korea’s biggest labels, hints at a shift toward a more diverse image of what K-Pop can look like in the future. Their recent 2025 GRAMMY nominations, coming just one year after their debut, will only act as more of an incentive to companies. Audiences are clearly hungry for authentic diversity.

And behind the scenes, Korean producers and stylists are increasingly working with Black artists rather than simply drawing from them. It is especially exciting to see much younger groups like Cortis, whose oldest member, James, is just 20, debut with a sound and style clearly influenced by Black creators, also acknowledge their influences openly in interviews, and discuss their collaboration with Black artists on their EP.

*Via Rolling Stone - Global Girl Group 'Katseye'*

K-Pop doesn’t necessarily have to stop wearing all forms of Black style, and they are by no means the only guilty party in a much larger conversation about appreciation vs. appropriation of black culture. It just has to start wearing it right. It’s about prioritising collaboration over imitation, education over assumption, and treating credit as part of the styling process itself. If the industry maintains this shift, the ‘look’ driving the music has the potential to become truly iconic.

Just as Black style continues to evolve, K-Pop too must adapt its own aesthetics to meet the realities of a globalised fashion ecosystem.