The Rise of Korean Streetwear Brands in China: From Seoul to Shanghai

What once began on the streets of Seoul—idol-worn baseball caps, minimalist shoulder bags, and hyper-curated concept stores—has now arrived in Shanghai. In 2025, Korean streetwear brands are no longer testing the waters in China. They’re staging a coordinated arrival, using their first brick-and-mortar stores as cultural beachheads to capture the imagination—and closets—of China’s Gen Z consumers.

Following early entrants like emis, Rest & Recreation, and RAIVE, the momentum has only accelerated. Now, the next major player is preparing its move: Musinsa, Korea’s leading fashion e-commerce platform, is set to deepen its China footprint through a joint venture with Anta, which already holds a 40% stake.

According to The Korea Economic Daily, Musinsa Standard, the group’s private-label brand, will open its first China store at Shanghai’s Parkson Department Store on Huaihai Road before year-end, while simultaneously negotiating additional high-traffic locations across the city. An official Tmall flagship is expected to launch by September, signaling a full omnichannel push.

For many Chinese consumers, these Korean streetwear brands were once must-visit destinations during trips to Seoul—places to shop, but also to soak in a distinct cultural aesthetic. Now, that aesthetic is being re-imported and remixed directly within China’s own fashion capitals, signaling a new chapter in pan-Asian streetwear connectivity.

From Social Buzz to Spatial Storytelling: The Playbook for Entering China

Nearly every Korean streetwear brand entering China in recent years has followed a consistent playbook: build emotional resonance online before committing to physical retail.

Take emis, for example. Founded in 2017, the brand gained traction in China well before opening any doors—thanks in large part to K-pop idol endorsements of its signature pastel-toned baseball caps and school-uniform-inspired silhouettes. On Xiaohongshu and Douyin, emis was seeded with purpose: through celebrity styling content, “one-day store manager” activations, and street-style influencer campaigns, the brand cultivated a grassroots presence. Pop-up events in cities like Shanghai and Chengdu functioned less as pure retail and more as community touchpoints, priming audiences ahead of its first flagship.

More advanced players have moved beyond campaign-based activation toward structural localization. Establishing dedicated China teams—responsible for communications, merchandising, and offline execution—has allowed Korean streetwear brands to maintain core creative direction while adapting nimbly to China’s retail tempo. In the case of Musinsa, its partnership with Anta extends beyond brand-building: it plugs the company into a robust domestic supply chain and distribution network, offering both speed and scale.

As Jingzhi Chronicle has previously noted, the physical store today is no longer just a transactional space—it’s a narrative platform. Korean streetwear brands have taken this to heart. Following the precedent set by Gentle Monster, whose art-installation-like retail environments redefined the role of space in brand storytelling, a new wave of entrants—GRVR, GROVE, MARITHÉ & FRANÇOIS GIRBAUD—are designing immersive retail experiences that prioritize virality, cultural cachet, and location exclusivity.

These stores function as both aesthetic statements and social content engines—blurring the line between showroom and spectacle, product and post.

The Foundations of Momentum: Why Korean Streetwear Isn’t Starting from Scratch in China

The current wave of Korean streetwear expansion into China may appear swift and seamless—but its momentum is built on more than hype. Several structural advantages have quietly laid the groundwork for this acceleration.

First, the retail infrastructure in Korea and China is highly compatible. Both markets share similar approaches to store layout, merchandising rhythm, and price architecture. This alignment makes it easier for Korean brands to localize without overhauling their operating models. In particular, the hybrid nature of Korea’s retail strategy—combining immersive physical retail with strong social commerce—mirrors how Chinese consumers shop today. As a result, brands like Musinsa, Emis, and Matin Kim can adapt at speed, not from scratch.

Second, these brands already hold cultural equity among Chinese consumers—especially Gen Z. Seoul’s trend-forward neighborhoods—Seongsu-dong, Hongdae, and Apgujeong—have become essential stops on the itineraries of Chinese tourists over the past five years. For many, visiting a Gentle Monster concept store or buying an Emis baseball cap became more than a shopping experience—it became a social signal. These items, often photographed and shared across platforms like Xiaohongshu and Douyin, transformed into digital status markers back home.

This early exposure has translated into measurable demand. In 2025, Chinese shoppers accounted for 18.4% of all foreign purchases at Musinsa Standard’s 11 stores in Korea—the highest among international markets. Similarly, Mardi Mercredi, best known for its daisy logo, entered Tmall’s “Top 10 Treasure New Brands” during this year’s 618 Shopping Festival, reflecting strong cross-border conversion.

Easier visa access, algorithm-driven discovery, and the normalization of fashion tourism have all accelerated this loop. Consumers who first encountered these brands in Seoul are now welcoming them in China—not just for the product, but to recreate the emotional experience they first had abroad: store aesthetics, curated playlists, limited-edition drops. This sense of emotional continuity—not just cultural familiarity—is one of Korean streetwear’s strongest intangible assets as it scales across China.

Beyond the First Store: What Happens After the Hype?

While the energy behind Korean streetwear’s arrival in China is palpable, it would be a mistake to view its early traction as a guarantee of sustained success. The very conditions that created rapid momentum—algorithm-fueled virality, short attention spans, and aesthetic convergence—can also become obstacles if brands fail to evolve.

China’s youth fashion market is unforgivingly fast-paced. Trends rise and fall within weeks, and consumers—especially Gen Z—are both highly expressive and brutally pragmatic. What’s “must-have” today can feel overexposed tomorrow. The idol co-signs, nostalgia aesthetics, and Seoul street cred that launch a brand may not be enough to sustain it.

Post-launch growth requires more than replication—it demands reinvention. As Korean brands expand beyond pop-ups and first stores, the challenge becomes how to translate their homegrown brand codes into long-term local relevance. This includes balancing exclusivity with accessibility, managing inventory without sacrificing drop culture, and continually refreshing visual language to stay ahead of aesthetic fatigue.

Just as crucial is operational resilience. Social media activations may drive crowds, but fulfillment, customer service, and omnichannel integration will determine retention. Brands will need to build scalable infrastructures—be it through partnerships, like Musinsa’s with Anta, or localized teams that understand regional nuance beyond Tier 1 cities.

Ultimately, the brands that succeed in China won’t just recreate Seoul in Shanghai—they’ll evolve a new hybrid identity. One that respects the original but is co-authored with Chinese consumers through immersive retail, community engagement, and storytelling attuned to local sentiment.

The “first store effect” may open the door. But building a lasting presence in China’s fashion ecosystem requires more than presence—it requires cultural authorship, strategic patience, and above all, a willingness to listen.

Beyond Commerce: The Next Chapter of K-Culture

The collective entry of Korean streetwear brands represents more than business expansion. It extends the influence of K-culture from music and beauty to fashion retail. For Chinese consumers, these brands promise both accessible coolness and a global cultural affiliation.

For the brands themselves, the wave of first stores offers an early commercial windfall—but also a test. Will they remain niche cult favorites? Or can they scale into enduring players in the world’s most competitive fashion market?

The fanfare of first-store openings may fill social feeds—but what comes next will determine which brands earn true staying power in China’s neo-luxury economy.