How a hanbok policy changed tourist experience at Korea’s old palaces

Tourists wearing hanbok enjoy a sunny spring day at Gyeongbok Palace in Jongno District, Seoul, in April. Korea Times photo by Park Ji-yeon

Foreign tourists love Korean palaces. Statistics show that more than 70 percent of overseas tourists visiting Seoul go to at least one of the city’s ancient palaces.

It does not matter whether they plan to go shopping in Myeong-dong or spend a night in Hongdae in western Seoul. Renting the traditional attire known as hanbok and casually strolling around palace pavilions while taking pictures has essentially become a Seoul travel ritual that rarely budges from the itinerary.

Be it the scorching heat of summer or the freezing winds of winter, foreign tourists can be seen around the palaces in every season, dressed in brightly colored hanbok, the traditional Korean hat known as "gat" and "norigae," a traditional Korean decorative pendant worn with the outfit.

And of all the ancient palaces that lure those tourists, Gyeongbok Palace commands the strongest presence and recognition. With its giant red-brown pillars, broad stone courtyard and the sight of Mount Bukak rising beyond the roofline of Gwanghwamun, the palace might just offer the most “Korean” scenery tourists can find in Korea.

And that is why, suddenly, those $10-for-two-hours hanbok rental shops down the street hold new significance.

For tourists wandering between the pavilions, wearing hanbok becomes a way to experience Korea’s past rather than simply observe it. The palace is no longer a collection of old, weather-beaten wooden structures. Dressed in hanbok, visitors step into the scene themselves.

The ancient palaces represent Korea’s traditional heritage, and hanbok serves as the medium through which travelers can feel that heritage in the present. As they move through the narrow spaces between palace halls and courtyards, visitors become both spectators and actors, while the palace becomes not only a piece of history but also a living stage.

Tourists wearing hanbok enjoy a sunny spring day at Gyeongbok Palace in Jongno District, Seoul, in April. Korea Times photo by Park Ji-yeon

All of this began in 2013, when the palaces began offering free admission to visitors wearing hanbok. It was a move that lowered the psychological barrier to visiting old palaces by adding hanbok, and its cultural appeal, to the experience.

The result was clear. In 2025, 2.07 million tourists visited Seoul’s five major palaces and Jongmyo Shrine, a 260 percent increase from 540,000 in 2022. Although the figure is not limited to foreign tourists, the long lines outside hanbok rental shops say enough.

The surge in popularity has also moved in step with the global boom in K-dramas. As Korea’s old palaces appeared again and again on screen, their tiled roofs and wooden halls began to look less distant to overseas audiences and more like places they wanted to see for themselves.

Then came BTS.

In 2020, BTS performed “Idol” in front of Geunjeongjeon hall at Gyeongbok Palace, wearing stage outfits inspired by hanbok. It was a scene in which traditional elements such as the jeogori collar, goreum ribbons and norigae ornaments were reinterpreted as modern stagewear.

In March this year, they staged their comeback show, “Arirang,” in front of Gwanghwamun. With that performance, Gyeongbok Palace stepped out of the past and onto a present-day stage, broadcasting “Koreanness” to the world with a K-pop rhythm echoing in the background.

The palace had not been strongly associated with any particular color of hanbok or gat. That changed when a boy band fighting demon hunters decided to wear them. Now, it does not take much squinting to spot outfits inspired by “KPop Demon Hunters” among tourists gathered outside the palace walls.

Now, Korea’s old palaces are no longer just buildings people come to see. They have evolved into places where tourists reenact scenes from their favorite K-content, whether animation, drama or K-pop. Hanbok is what allows them to experience Korea not only with their eyes but with their bodies, turning palace tours from something to watch into something to step inside.

Tourists dress in hanbok, take photos with the palace behind them and become the protagonists of their own Korean experience. That single image then moves through social media, carrying the scene from Seoul to the world.

If K-content made them buy the plane ticket to Korea, hanbok gives the trip a shape they can keep, in photographs and in the memory of the body. That is why hanbok is more than a free admission pass. It is a language of experience, one that lets travelers wear Korea’s time and walk through Seoul’s space.

Visitors take pictures at Gyeongbok Palace in Jongno District, Seoul. Yonhap

Of course, the boom is not without controversy. Many hanbok rented by foreign visitors feature dress-like skirts, heavy gold embellishments and accessories whose origins are difficult to place.

They may photograph well. But if the question is whether they represent the graceful lines and understated dignity that define hanbok, the answer is no. And when considering that these rental hanbok are, for many tourists, the first representation of Korean culture they put on, the matter becomes more complicated.

What they experience, and what memory they are left with, should not be treated solely as a matter of commerce. The “nationality-free hanbok” sold around the palaces should not be dismissed simply as market preference. If palace tourism is becoming one of Korea’s most visible cultural experiences, the central and local governments should offer basic standards and guidance, ensuring that accessibility does not come at the cost of cultural identity.

Recently, "hanbok saenghwal," or the everyday culture of wearing hanbok, was designated a national intangible heritage, and a promotion committee has also been launched with the goal of seeking inscription on UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list by 2030.

The Hanbok Culture Industry Promotion Act, passed by the National Assembly in March, laid the institutional groundwork for making hanbok more widely worn in daily life, strengthening the industry and expanding its global reach.

Hanbok is no longer a garment taken out only for holidays. In the footsteps of foreign visitors walking through Korea’s old palaces, it is becoming a cultural language through which Korea speaks to the world.

This article from the Hankook Ilbo, the sister publication of The Korea Times, is translated by a generative AI system and edited by The Korea Times.