Korea’s last 'saekdong' weaver keeps colorful tradition alive

Han Du-heum, founder and CEO of Dongwon Textile, Korea's last remaining saekdong weaving factory, stands behind a textile-making machine at his factory in Gongju, South Chungcheong Province, Nov. 24. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk

By Kim Se-jeong

• Published Dec 2, 2025 12:01 PM KST
• Updated Dec 4, 2025 3:02 PM KST

GONGJU, South Chungcheong Province — On a crisp November morning at Dongwon Textile in Gongju, South Chungcheong Province, six colors of polyester thread were fed into a warp roller under the guidance of founder and CEO Han Du-heum. Beside it, two weaving machines steadily transformed the strands into "saekdong," a traditional Korean striped fabric known for its bright bands of color.

“I don’t run the [saekdong-weaving] machines every day because I don’t get enough orders these days. But I try to keep the textiles ready so that whenever a request comes in, we can ship them right away,” Han told The Korea Times.

Once a common sight across the country, saekdong is now almost entirely gone from Korea’s textile factories. Dongwon Textile is the only remaining producer still weaving it in the traditional way — a mission Han is determined to maintain.

What is saekdong?

Instantly recognizable by its bands of color, saekdong is a traditional Korean pattern with five to seven differently colored repeating stripes. Traditionally made from silk, it was often used in children’s clothing, ceremonial dress, bedding and other accessories.

According to the Korea Saekdong Museum, early forms emerged during the Three Kingdoms period (57 B.C.–668 A.D.) and the pattern became common during the Joseon Dynasty (1392–1910).

At the heart of saekdong’s iconic stripes is "obangsaek," the traditional five-color system rooted in Confucian cosmology, featuring blue, red, yellow, white and black. Each color carries symbolic meaning and together they 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,” the museum official said.

Traditionally, saekdong textile was labor-intensive and costly to produce, sewn together piece by piece from different colors of dyed silk.

“Saekdong jeogori (upper garments) remained exclusive to the children of royal families, aristocrats and wealthy households,” a museum official explained.

With the rise of synthetic fibers in the 20th century, however, saekdong became more accessible and companies like Dongwon Textile supplied woven saekdong to makers of traditional clothing, bedding and souvenirs for decades.

From one of many to last standing

Dongwon Textile was born at a turning point. Born in Gongju in 1952, Han grew up near textile workshops and spent his early career working for a local factory. After roughly 10 years, he left to start his own business. When he founded his company in 1987, the saekdong industry had already begun shrinking.

“My former company asked me to supply saekdong after they decided to stop making it,” he 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 80s, saekdong enjoyed a golden age in Korea. Newlyweds usually bought traditional bedding sets for their new home, often using saekdong blankets and pillows to symbolize prosperity and good fortune. Demand for the traditional striped fabric soared.

“Back then, brides would bring saekdong bedding when they got married,” Han said. “The business was very good. At one point, Yugu-eup [in Gongju] had almost 130 factories producing saekdong.”

But the boom didn’t last. 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 and a new competitor emerged: printed saekdong designs, instead of the labor-intensive woven originals.

Today, the Yugu Textile History Exhibition Hall stands as a reminder of the town’s once‑thriving textile industry, especially its production of saekdong. A diorama illustrating the saekdong‑making process, along with other textile artifacts, offers visitors a glimpse into the era when Gongju was a textile hub.

Although Han had to diversify into other textiles to keep the business afloat, he never let saekdong go.

“I was tempted to drop it during the hard times, but I couldn’t,” he said. “I just wanted to hold onto it.”

Even now, despite reduced demand, the labor-intensive process and a public that often cannot distinguish between printed and woven stripes, he believes the real thing still has an edge over its cheaper rivals.

“Printed saekdong is everywhere, but what I make has richer colors on both the front and back,” he said.

Craft rediscovered

Today, Dongwon Textile sells saekdong primarily to wholesalers across the country who supply hanbok makers, accessory shops and craftspeople. Orders may have declined, but the interest, Han believes, is rising again.

Han has recently appeared on several TV programs, drawing attention to his factory and his decades-old craft.

“Today, people seem to be more curious about saekdong,” he said. “Maybe that’s why they contacted me for filming. I’m hopeful that it will bring back some of the demand.”

This renewed curiosity fits into a broader revival of interest in Korean culture and heritage both at home and abroad. Traditional patterns including saekdong are experiencing new life, not only through hanbok and household items, but in global fashion. In 2021, Italian luxury brand Gucci introduced clothing and accessories inspired by saekdong’s distinctive patterns and colors— a sign that the motif has global appeal.

In a world that often favors convenience and speed, Han’s commitment to his craft is a reminder of the patience, care and artistry embedded in every stripe.

At 73, Han shows no sign of stepping away from the weaving machine. His goal now is ensuring continuity.

“My older son is learning how to weave saekdong,” he said. “I’ve been passing down my knowledge to him and my daughter-in-law. They will keep it going when I’m not here.”