It was a November day toward the end of her first semester of college, and Camille was skipping class. She’s not one to shirk her academic responsibilities, but this was a BIG DAY with BIG STAKES.
Her favorite k-pop group, Stray Kids, was planning a North American tour, and ticket sales would begin at 1 p.m.
She barely slept the previous night. That morning, she arranged all her favorite k-pop photocards and stuffed animals on her desk for luck. She logged in to Ticketmaster around 9 a.m. and began her own private vigil.
Her fervent wish – to score two VIP tickets to the Stray Kids show in San Francisco in May. I’d agreed to organize the trip if she bought the tickets, and I was feeling a bit nervous, too. The more I’d listened to Stray Kids with her, the more I’d watched their silly variety shows and learned about their own personal and professional journeys, the more I became an honest fan myself. I wanted this to happen – mostly for her, but for me, too.
I sometimes get a little embarrassed when my peers find out I’m legitimately a k-pop fan. It’s true that a majority of k-pop fans are in their late teens and twenties, but I’m definitely not alone. I’m not even pushing the upper age limits of the fandom. Still, the puzzled looks I get if I start yapping about k-pop prompted a fair amount of introspection. Why do I like it so much?
The music? Yes, but not for the same reasons I might like other genres of music. The lyrics of my favorite k-pop songs don’t give me goose bumps like a well-turned phrase by Jason Isbell. My k-pop playlist isn’t bowling me over with guitar riffs like Prince, or tapping into my angst like Pearl Jam.
There are definitely well-crafted songs in k-pop, but the ones on my playlist landed there because’ they’re FUN. People will say, “but you can’t understand what they’re saying in Korean- isn’t that weird?” No. I don’t need to understand the lyrics to enjoy the way the songs make me feel. They make me feel like dancing in my car at stop lights. They make me feel carefree. They make me feel young.
Another reason? Being part of something bigger. Anyone who has loved a sports team knows the gratifying jolt when you spot another person in a shopping mall wearing your beloved team’s jersey. Any Taylor Swift fan understands the buzz of recognition when you glimpse another swiftie wearing a beaded friendship bracelet. Being a fan of a specific k-pop group can feel the same way. Like belonging, even for a middle-aged mom. The artists themselves expend a lot of energy cultivating this feeling of family, making their fans feel appreciated and adored. Is this fan service just as performative as the choreography? Sure. But who doesn’t appreciate some good vibes?
And of course, my biggest draw to k-pop is bonding with Camille. Fangirling is fun, but fangirling with her is a BLAST.
Which is why my heart soared when she called me at 1:05 on that November day to tell me, through tears of happiness and relief, that she’d secured our tickets to see Stray Kids.
Fast forward to May – we arrived in San Francisco the day before the show and hurried to the pre-show merch line outside the venue. The queue wrapped around the side of Oracle Park and stretched for ages. I stopped feeling “too old for this” when I spotted not one, but two elderly women waiting in the merch line with canes. Not ironic, costume canes, but the medically necessary kind.
We waited about two hours to buy our treasures, then did some touristy stuff before prepping our concert outfits for the next day. I would be sporting a denim jacket Camille had painted with Stray Kids animated characters on the back. She’d be wearing an outfit to match her favorite member Felix from a past music video.
The next morning, Camille was in line by 6:30 a.m. behind a sizable crowd of people (some of whom camped overnight on the sidewalk) to wait for numbered wristbands for entry into the concert.
Our tickets were for the standing area right beside the stage with no assigned seats. The lower our wristband number the earlier we could enter, and the better our chance of a prime viewing location. Our goal was a spot along the metal barricade that separates the audience from the stage – the closest you can get without being a security guard.
Finally, just before 10 we got our wristbands – numbers 98 and 99. Our VIP tickets meant exclusive access to the pre-show soundcheck, and at 4 we were ushered into the stadium where people started sprinting toward the barricade. And hallelujah, we got the spot!
All of the waiting and uncertainty finally behind us, we were so ready to enjoy the show. Stray Kids did not disappoint. The music, the dancing, the pyrotechnics and fireworks were phenomenal, but the best magic was the energetic joy that flowed through the artists and the crowd. It was a loud, frenzied lovefest. We were close enough to the stage for Camille to make eye contact with the members, and then even ACTUAL contact when one of them ran along the barricade touching hands.
We sang, we danced (only one of us cried). We smiled till our cheeks hurt and screamed until our throats were sore. And best of all, we made memories that will last a life time. Thanks k-pop, thanks Stray Kids, and thanks for the tickets, Camille. Let’s do it again real soon.