Han Du-heum, the 73-year-old founder and CEO of Dongwon Textile, operates the last remaining factory in South Korea that produces saekdong, a traditional Korean striped fabric known for its vibrant bands of color. Located in Gongju, South Chungcheong Province, his facility represents the final stronghold of an ancient craft that once flourished across the country. On a November morning, Han carefully fed six colors of polyester thread into a warp roller while two weaving machines transformed the strands into the distinctive striped pattern that has adorned Korean clothing for over a millennium.
"I don't run the saekdong-weaving machines every day because I don't get enough orders these days," Han explained. "But I try to keep the textiles ready so that whenever a request comes in, we can ship them right away." His dedication to maintaining this traditional craft reflects a broader struggle to preserve Korean cultural heritage in an increasingly modernized world.
Saekdong is instantly recognizable by its bands of color, featuring five to seven differently colored repeating stripes in a traditional Korean pattern. Historically made from silk, the fabric was commonly used in children's clothing, ceremonial dress, bedding, and various accessories. According to the Korea Saekdong Museum, early forms of this distinctive pattern emerged during the Three Kingdoms period (57 B.C. to 668 A.D.) and became widespread during the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910).
The heart of saekdong's iconic stripes lies in "obangsaek," the traditional five-color system rooted in Confucian cosmology. This system features blue, red, yellow, white, and black, with each color carrying symbolic meaning. Together, these colors embody harmony and the interconnected cycles of nature. "Saekdong contains a philosophy of coexistence and the cycle of creation and extinction within yin-yang and the five elements," explained a museum official.
Traditionally, saekdong textile was labor-intensive and expensive to produce, requiring pieces to be sewn together individually from different colors of dyed silk. "Saekdong jeogori (upper garments) remained exclusive to the children of royal families, aristocrats, and wealthy households," noted a museum official. However, with the rise of synthetic fibers in the 20th century, saekdong became more accessible, and companies like Dongwon Textile supplied woven saekdong to makers of traditional clothing, bedding, and souvenirs for decades.
Han's journey into the saekdong business began at a crucial turning point for the industry. Born in Gongju in 1952, he grew up near textile workshops and spent his early career working for a local factory. After approximately ten years, he left to establish his own business. When he founded Dongwon Textile in 1987, the saekdong industry had already begun its decline. "My former company asked me to supply saekdong after they decided to stop making it," Han recalled. "I started producing the textile for them. But eventually, they even stopped selling what I supplied. So I began selling it on my own."
During the 1970s and 1980s, saekdong experienced a golden age in South Korea. Newlyweds typically purchased traditional bedding sets for their new homes, often using saekdong blankets and pillows to symbolize prosperity and good fortune, causing demand for the traditional striped fabric to soar. "Back then, brides would bring saekdong bedding when they got married," Han remembered. "The business was very good. At one point, Yugu-eup [in Gongju] had almost 130 factories producing saekdong."
However, this prosperity was short-lived. As Western-style beds became common in the 1990s, brides no longer purchased thick traditional blankets and pillows as part of their wedding trousseau. Demand plummeted dramatically, and a new competitor emerged: printed saekdong designs that could be mass-produced much more cheaply than the labor-intensive woven originals. Today, the Yugu Textile History Exhibition Hall serves as a reminder of the town's once-thriving textile industry, featuring a diorama illustrating the saekdong-making process along with other textile artifacts that offer visitors a glimpse into the era when Gongju was a major textile hub.
Despite the challenges, Han refused to abandon saekdong production entirely. Although he had to diversify into other textiles to keep his business financially viable, he never completely let go of the traditional craft. "I was tempted to drop it during the hard times, but I couldn't," he admitted. "I just wanted to hold onto it." Even now, despite reduced demand, the labor-intensive production process, and a public that often cannot distinguish between printed and woven stripes, he believes authentic woven saekdong still has advantages over its cheaper competitors. "Printed saekdong is everywhere, but what I make has richer colors on both the front and back," Han explained.
Currently, Dongwon Textile's saekdong fabric features seven colors: white, blue, pink, yellow, purple, green, and red. The company primarily sells to wholesalers across the country who supply hanbok makers, accessory shops, and craftspeople. While orders have declined significantly, Han believes interest in the traditional craft is experiencing a resurgence.
Han has recently appeared on several television programs, drawing public attention to his factory and his decades-old craft. "Today, people seem to be more curious about saekdong," he observed. "Maybe that's why they contacted me for filming. I'm hopeful that it will bring back some of the demand." This renewed curiosity aligns with a broader revival of interest in Korean culture and heritage both domestically and internationally.
Traditional patterns, including saekdong, are experiencing new life not only through hanbok and household items but also in global fashion. In 2021, Italian luxury brand Gucci introduced clothing and accessories inspired by saekdong's distinctive patterns and colors, demonstrating that the motif has gained international appeal. This global recognition suggests that traditional Korean design elements are finding new audiences and applications in contemporary fashion.
In a world that often prioritizes convenience and speed, Han's commitment to his craft serves as a reminder of the patience, care, and artistry embedded in every stripe of traditional saekdong fabric. At 73 years old, Han shows no signs of stepping away from the weaving machine, and his primary goal now focuses on ensuring the continuity of this ancient tradition. "My older son is learning how to weave saekdong," he revealed. "I've been passing down my knowledge to him and my daughter-in-law. They will keep it going when I'm not here."
