South Korean millennials mocked for ‘trying too hard’

Ji Seung-ryeol, 41, prides himself on his fashion sense.

She diligently shares mirror selfies on Instagram, where everyone knows the more you like, the cooler you are.

So he was confused to know that Men his age have been the subject of internet ridicule, mocked for wearing the styles associated with Gen Z and younger millennials.

AI-generated caricatures of this demographic have gone viral on social media: a middle-aged man dressed in street clothes and holding an iPhone. The kids call them the “Young 40s”.

The memes made Ji’s beloved Nike Air Jordans and Stüssy T-shirts the stuff of jokes—and the source of much ire.

“I just buy and wear things I’ve wanted for a long time, now that I can afford them,” she told the BBC. “Why is this something to attack?”

Once celebrated as pioneers of the taste of the 1990s, the rise of public opinion of the 40-year-olds returned after the release of the iPhone 17 in September.

The smartphone, long considered the preserve of youth, is suddenly recast as a tacky trademark of the Young 40s. These are, in the words of Gen Z Jeong Ju-eun, people who “try hard to look young”, who “refuse to accept that time has passed”.

The numbers seem to reflect this shift. While most young South Koreans still prefer the iPhone over the Samsung Galaxy, last year Apple’s market share fell to 4% among Gen Z consumers and rose 12% for people in their 40s, according to Gallup’s research.

Something similar happened a few years ago with Geriatric Millennials, born in the early ’80s, whose brand of humor — the crying emoji, finger mustache and the word “adulting” — was derided as cringey.

In the past, the debate about Geriatric Millennials has sparked self-mockery, think pieces and quizzes that dictate whether you’re meant to be ribbing or subject to it.

The same trends caught on in South Korea with the Young 40s.

In Korea, an age difference, even of one year, becomes the basis of social hierarchy. Age is one of the first things strangers ask each other, which sets the tone for future interactions: how they respond to each other, who can open the bottle of soju at parties (it’s usually the oldest person) and which way to tip your shot glass (the correct answer: away from your elders).

But the Young 40 memes also represent a growing skepticism among Korean youth about this almost forced respect for elders.

Just a few years ago, the term “kkondae” was still a buzzword among young South Koreans to describe an annoying breed of strict, condescending elders.

Such friction is exacerbated by social media, where “multiple generations mix within the same space”, said Lee Jae-in, a sociology professor at Korea University’s Sejong campus.

“The old pattern where different generations use different cultural areas has largely disappeared,” he added.

Popularized in marketing circles in the 2010s, the term “Young 40” originally referred to consumers with youthful sensibilities. They are health-conscious, active and comfortable with technology—an important target demographic for companies.

“In the past, people in their 40s were seen as old,” said Kim Yong-Sup, a fashion analyst widely credited with coining the term “Young 40”.

As the median age of South Korean society rises, however, these people are “no longer at the edge of old age but at the center of society”, he said.

But the marketing term has since taken a viral, sardonic turn. Last year, “Young 40” was mentioned online more than 100,000 times – more than half of the references used in a negative context, according to analytics platform SomeTrend. Many of them appear with words like “old” and “disgusting”.

An offshoot of the meme is Sweet Young 40, a sarcastic label for middle-aged men who like to hit on young women.

Some see jokes about the Young 40s as a kind of punch line: these are people at the peak of their careers, who have amassed wealth during a time of economic stability and property boom.

On the other side are Gen Z and young millennials, born a few decades later, who face rising house prices and cut-throat competition in the job market. In their eyes, the Young 40s represent “the generation that made it through before the door of opportunity closed”, according to psychologist Oh Eun-kyung.

“They are seen not only as individuals with personal preferences, but as symbols of privilege and power,” he said. “So the energy of the mockery is focused on them.”

But Ji, the 41-year-old fashion enthusiast who lived in the so-called golden era, tells a different version of the story.

After experiencing the Asian financial crisis as a teenager, Ji entered a tough job market at the age of 20, submitting about 60-70 applications to get a job. His generation is one that “had little fun growing up, and only started enjoying things later, as adults”, he said.

Now at work, he often finds himself caught between two worlds. The generation above him runs a “strict, top-down system where you do what you’re told”, while below him is “a generation that asks ‘why'”.

“We are a generation that has experienced two cultures. We feel caught up.”

While the ability to straddle two generations used to be a badge of honor, Ji says he became self-conscious about interacting with younger colleagues for fear of being labeled a kkondae or Young 40.

“These days, I hardly organize drinking gatherings,” he said. “I try to keep conversations focused on work or career concerns, and only share personal stories when the discussions naturally deepen.”

According to Kang, another fashionable 41-year-old, sitting at the heart of the Young 40 meme is a deep human desire.

“As you get older, the longing for youth becomes completely natural. Wanting to look young is something shared by every generation.”