With the rise of the "girl power" trend in K-pop, has the male gaze really decreased?

This is a comment I saw earlier this year in the comments section of a girl group’s performance video, which triggered my thoughts and led me to write this article:

"I think the feminism in K-pop is like Girls' Generation's debut song... the spirit that women can do anything. This group in the video has an air of arrogance, telling people not to worry about their appearance, but the MV is filled with refined makeup and hot bodies, highlighting their charm through gaining male approval. And their outfits—well, they look exactly like those worn by Western female singers. It’s impossible not to make that connection. They talk about how much they’ve suffered, say some dismissive things, but desperately emphasize their bodies and beauty. It leaves a strange feeling."

(G)I-dle's recent comebacks have been highly controversial, and the feedback on their latest comeback, Klaxon, has been mixed. However, the negative comments left a deeper impression on me: people accusing them of exploiting "female benefits" and even saying they are "trying to have it both ways," still pandering to men. This reminded me of their pre-release single Allergy before the Queencard comeback. That song seemed to receive more uniformly positive feedback because, whether in the MV or the lyrics, it clearly stood on the side of female consumers, reflecting their voices and concerns. However, Queencard carried more of a male-gaze vibe. A large part of the song, especially the chorus, emphasizes how hot their bodies are and how they deserve to be in the spotlight, which isn't a quality that most of their audience possesses, nor is it something that most women have in real life—forever young, beautiful, and always in the spotlight.

These are qualities that seem to be constantly embodied by girl group idols like (G)I-dle—most popular girl group idols are young, have great figures, attractive appearances, and receive admiration and adoration from around the world.

What really made (G)I-dle explode in popularity was their return when they successfully captured the market's trends and presented an image that consumers wanted to see: the "big female lead" image. In recent years, not only K-pop but also domestic dramas have started to mass-produce big female lead characters, and around 2016-2018, the "Me Too" movement spread among Korean women, combining with the awakening of female consciousness in Asia and the West. Consumers longed to see a group that could express what they wanted to see—women who were cool, self-possessed, and strong enough. I have to say that (G)I-dle’s leader and producer, Jeon Soyeon, is very good at capturing market demands. So in 2022, (G)I-dle returned with Nude and truly exploded in popularity, attracting countless casual fans. Their comebacks are never short of controversy, but their innovative compositions and ability to precisely target a large audience have allowed (G)I-dle to enjoy the sweet taste of "female benefits," quickly becoming a powerhouse girl group.

Starting with Queencard, their next two comebacks: Superlady repeatedly shouts how women are extraordinary, while the trilogy's Klaxon directly shifts from the previous "I don't need a man" stance to "I want to boldly express my love." As a former fan of (G)I-dle, after watching the latest comeback MV, I felt betrayed because they didn’t continue on the so-called “girl power” path. And it was during a time when I was particularly interested in feminism that I first heard Nude and was struck by the uniqueness of their concept in K-pop at the time, which led me to become a fan of (G)I-dle.

In the Klaxon MV, there are several scenes where the girl group idols are dancing in front of men who are either indifferent or staring at them. People like me, who once bought into the "feminist" narrative of K-pop, might find themselves deeply absorbed, marveling at the brilliance of (G)I-dle’s concepts. But when we take a step back, we notice that their recent comebacks leave a subtle sense of discomfort and discord. As idols, they are in front of the camera (which is the position of being viewed), wearing girl group makeup, yet they sing about how everyone should become independent individuals like them. This creates a sense of absurdity because we all know, as viewers, that these idols are not truly free—they are individuals who must follow company arrangements and, to some extent, are not autonomous. Yet, within this invisible cage, they express subjectivity, dancing while telling people outside the cage to be free.

(G)I-dle performing Nude at the year-end stage, wearing company-chosen outfits.

The paradox displayed by (G)I-dle makes me question many things: Can K-pop music’s feminism truly realize free consciousness and female independence? In a conversation with a friend, she said that the current contradictory situation feels like a kind of "torn symbiosis," which I found quite apt. The fundamental nature of idol work may dictate that they must "serve beauty," which inherently carries labels like beauty and glamour. Because idols themselves are part of K-pop as an art form and part of the market economy, their appearance and image must align with market demands, and they can never fully escape this constraint. Representing female power and opposing objectification, as seen with girl groups like (G)I-dle, is indeed novel. But the issue is, we don't know whether the idols themselves agree with the content of the lyrics they sing. We don't even know if we love the persona created by the company and the market or the idols themselves. In a K-pop market where we can’t even be sure whether the female idols are independent, it’s even harder to say whether the feminism in K-pop music represents the true expression of free will.

Perhaps this star-making industry itself is a form of gaze. It continuously gazes at consumer demand, crafting products that conform to current trends, singing loudly about feminism, and presenting concepts that make it easy for those immersed in the industry to identify with and buy into. Feminism in K-pop—whose feminism is it? Has the surge of feminist music in K-pop solidified the stereotype of this concept? When we first encountered "feminism," it was often presented by women with specific traits, such as successful career women, muscular and strong androgynous women, women in traditionally male-dominated professions, or early (G)I-dle singing "don't touch me, I don’t like you, stay away" in Uh-oh, or Le Sserafim performing fitness-level choreography. But should the concept of feminism be a spectrum, capable of being interpreted by different female images? Feminism can also be embodied by women with great figures and full of enthusiasm, calling on all women to be confident, as seen in (G)I-dle’s Queencard and Klaxon, or Kiss of Life, the only girl group still maintaining a bold and glamorous sexy concept.

Perhaps feminism should be the feminism of all women.

Has feminism in K-pop also become a dilemma for the K-pop market? As the entire market blindly pursues feminism, has it become exclusionary to other themes and styles? In a market where girl power has become oversaturated, how will feminism continue to evolve, innovate, and maintain its originality? This is something that many companies may need to reflect on.

Edited by: Half Soymilk, P-san, Elliotty

Translated from Chinese, first posted on our Official Account: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/OsNZAYxSYSFiWA7cieLg1A