The ’94 Line

Getting along famously

Something’s happening in the K-pop world. Something big. Or at least, in a tiny pocket of the K-pop world.

As I’ve spoken about before, one of my favorite aspects of idoldom is the relationships between idols, both inside and outside their respective groups. Early on, I heard that Red Velvet’s Irene and Blackpink’s Jennie were friends, and there’s the famous photo where they’re fighting over the check at a restaurant in L.A. (that place where I used to liiiiive):

It was so early on that the only two K-pop people I really knew were Irene and Jennie. But I’m more knowledgeable now — though you’d be surprised, given how often I talk about K-pop here — and I’ve grown accustomed to some of the players.

As far as I understand it, parsing these relationships is a fan sport known as “shipping,” which carries a romantic undertone. It’s about noticing small actions and patterns. Don’t you like the way Wendy stares into Irene’s eyes during that one song? And then, a period of inactivity is a “cold war,” or even a “cold war era.” I don’t know how old I’m sounding, but this is the terminology I’ve encountered over the years watching fanmade videos on YouTube.

I admit, I used to be pretty fixated on ships, whether Chorong and Bomi or Solar and Moonbyul — convinced, in the latter case, still, that it’s real. As time has gone on, I think the speculative nature inherent is what makes shipping less intriguing than plain old friendships, which are less fictional or ambiguous, but my God, no less of a game.

It’s always a long payoff, because I’ll learn about and come to like certain idols individually, then learn that they’re friends, and then, later, see them actually interacting. The interval between points two and three could be years. I’d get crumbs every now and again (another shipping term), like when Solar did a sido where she calls people to wish them a happy new year, and, to my surprise, dialed Bomi — and Chorong? — and there are the Instagram likes that emerge from actors’ experiences on productions together (hallyu generally, not idols in this case) — I’m always looking out for Lee Da-hee and Im Soo-jung, Lee Young-ae and Kim Hye-jun.

These days, almost every idol has a YouTube channel, though sometimes they’re unlucky enough that it’s more like a program on an existing channel and can therefore be easily canceled, like Yeri’s a couple of years ago. Early this year, Seulgi launched “Hi Seulgi,” which is mostly dedicated to Seulgi things like fashion, travel, and art — the Hong Kong night market, boxing, surfing, color theory, and so on — but also features the occasional guest like Wendy or Blackpink’s Jisoo. This is, honestly, your best bet when it comes to seeing idol friends getting together — for the sake of content.

Because here’s the thing, as fans of Girls’ Generation know, idols are either extremely busy or consciously ducking the spotlight. So, like, cool, we can watch Yoona in King the Land or whatever, but what if I just want to see her hanging out with Yuri for a while? Whenever that does happen, like Tiffany’s birthday/17th-anniversary party a little while ago, they always talk about how difficult it is to coordinate everyone’s schedule, and notably, Sunny wasn’t able to attend.

Be sure to watch the video above, where the two troublemakers of SNSD talk about that gathering, among other things, especially the account of how Yuri totally whiffed on the dress code:

As fans have been observing lately, Yuri’s really been living her best life.

But there’s an example. What’s a great way to get Hyoyeon and Sooyoung together? Content. Not to be reductive, because Hyo’s Level Up has been a revelation. Recently, she and Taeyeon met up with Kim Ye-ji, the Olympic shooter, and that’s a lot of fun. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Taeyeon looks super cool with a gun:

But anyway, this post is about a much rarer group, an emerging clique self-identifying, ominously, as “The ’94 Line.” Its members?

From Kara, Youngji.

From Lovelyz, Mijoo.

From Red Velvet, Seulgi.

From Oh My Girl, Hyojung.

All born in the year 1994, and all apparently friends. How do I know this? Because in whispers and glimpses, they’re starting to talk about it. Mostly Youngji and Mijoo.

This year, also, Youngji started a YouTube channel — a solo venture, I should specify, because she was already doing one with her sister, Seong-yeon. In a way, it’s sad, because we’re just subtracting the sister, but it’s very down-to-business, with one-on-one interviews and plenty of alcohol. Her first guest was, maybe surprisingly, not Jiyoung or another Kara member, but Mijoo.

This was really great, because it’s the pairing I’ve been hearing about for so long but have never actually seen. I just wish the video was longer, clocking in at only 18 minutes. These two have such a great rapport, with the bickering and play-fighting, as pictured above. Youngji is already a natural in front of the camera, in a way that even most idols are not, and Mijoo matches her energy while providing a more cynical, slightly edgier counterpart.

For me, 2024 has been the Year of Youngji, and this is something I planned on recapping at the end of the year, so please allow this teaser. Having not made much time for K-pop or hallyu last year, I missed out on a lot. Fortunately, I was tuned in by the time Kara returned, briefly (two songs), this summer. I confess, after learning about Kara in 2022, I never ended up listening to enough of them to determine whose voice belonged to who — not even Gyuri! So when we get to this part in the video for “I Do, I Do,” and Youngji is singing: “마주한 널 기억해…”

…my mind was blown. I could not comport those vocals with Youngji the Lovable Goofball. Her voice is unreal! And then I learn she put out a solo album last year:

I’m still just stunned. Like, she’s amazing. I already liked her, but wow. And it’s a couple of factors. Of course, there’s the base foundation of talent, which is gonna be common among mainstream K-pop acts anyway, but I personally, I don’t know, vibe, with her sound. It’s so smooth. Then there’s the brand management aspect, and this song, “L.O.V.E.” feels pure Youngji. It’s bubbly and sweet almost to the point of eye-bleed, but the video takes a turn during the bridge for a more mature, elegant aesthetic that also fits really well.

And finally, there’s the persona. The number-one thing for me is that the human behind the idol facade is comfortable, even thriving, in her day job. And night job. And all-the-time job. We know it’s a tough business, and Youngji’s been through the wringer. The fact that she’s still so naturally bubbly after all the hard work and public scrutiny and loss speaks to profound resilience. A lot of credit has to go to her fellow members (as well as, I’m sure, the staff behind the scenes), from Goo Hara’s early support onward. I’m especially chuffed by her relationship with Gyuri, which doesn’t fall into the usual leader/maknae archetypes — mother/daughter, even sisters — they’re just buddies, and seemingly inseparable.

Here’s drunk Youngji blowing in Gyuri’s face on an Instagram Live just to, I don’t know, be a dick

So, in this video with Mijoo, they talk about The ’94 Line, and how they’d filmed a TikTok dance challenge for “L.O.V.E.” You can find it here, reposted on YouTube.

I don’t know how I missed this, because even if I wasn’t paying much attention to the music at that time, I’m still looking at Instagram every day, where these things usually filter down.

By Mijoo’s telling, it was her and Youngji who pushed for the group, as they’d wanted to befriend other ’94 liners. Youngji solely credits Mijoo, but in the next breath notes that Mijoo’s very bad at communicating — replying to texts or chats weeks later. They’d made a chat group, and while Youngji, Seulgi, and Hyojung reply, with Mijoo, the message “doesn’t turn to read.”

“I’m pissed off because she’s so confident [about making excuses].”

Later, they talk about how they’re all guests on each other’s YouTube channels and shows, having already filmed with Hyojung, and even Seulgi (which would turn out to be a slight mistranslation). That’s what I’m talking about here. New media facilitating new dimensions of K-pop, an environment that feels less corporate, less controlled. At the height of Youngji-era Kara, there was no reason for her to meet up with Mijoo for a video like this.

When they’re hanging out here, they’re not promoting a new single or a new show — this is the show. This is the product. It’s still business, but in a more abstract way, that the company behind Youngji’s YouTube channel wants to grow a subscriber base. That’s a far lower-cost investment than an entire K-pop act and therefore, it can afford to be more human.

It’s not career afterlife, because thankfully, Youngji continues to pursue solo music — to apparent success, as “L.O.V.E.” has about 10 million views — and of course, she’s the idol who joined a group at its tail end, a third-generation talent in a second-generation group. And then again, that second-gen group is also persevering, at a comfortable pace.

Youngji’s birthday is at the end of August, so naturally, we started to see photos from that celebration a few days ago. This popped up in the feed like a jump scare:

Holy shit. What??

And then a couple of days ago, I saw this on, I think, Youngji’s Instagram Story:

So I started to type up this post that day, but was immediately sidelined by non-K-pop obligations — a blessing in disguise, as the very next day, this video premieres on Seulgi’s channel:

While I can’t remember my exact reaction, let’s recall it as I just sat on the floor and wept.

In any given year, there’s one movie or TV show I’m really looking forward to, and that becomes The One. I’ve been lucky lately, with Prey in 2022 and Godzilla Minus One in 2023, and to a lesser extent Alien: Romulus in 2024. But this video is like The One I didn’t even know about.

It’s a chronicle of their celebrating Youngji’s birthday at a hotel with some sort of cool whale video display (I don’t know how to describe it), ending in a surprisingly close bowling game. And against my earlier point, this video is product placement, for the hotel, which is mentioned in the YouTube description. But it looks like a cool place. Why not make some money?

Anyway, the video’s title is in two parts, separated by emojis, with the second being “Super hyped date with Mi-Joo & Young-Ji,” where “hype” refers to energy level, not anticipation, but I find it captures my reaction nonetheless.

The first part is “Talk limit exceeded,” and the emojis are red sirens. Along with the thumbnail, which has Seulgi zoning out with a ghost Seulgi floating above, this was a little worrisome, where suddenly this trio was no longer hypothetical, and ended in a question mark.

Of the three (and four, with Hyojung), I’m the most familiar with Seulgi. I know that she has an extremely confident, one would say “fierce” stage presence, but off the stage, that shrinks into a precious, almost nervous energy. Her reputation for being kind — not easily earned — has proven durable over the last ten years, and she’s pretty much the idol’s idol. Everyone in the industry loves Seulgi.

For so many years, I’d only really known her in the context of Red Velvet, where she’s basically a number-two. It’s weird, because here’s this multihyphenate, once-in-a-generation talent, and then they pair her up with, like, a god.

Everyone loves Seulgi, but people are awestruck by Irene — mostly for her visual appearance, which I get, but this overshadows her other qualities (the discipline to match Seulgi’s dance skill for “Naughty,” that ethereal singing voice, supremely underrated). Next to Irene, no one is the main character, and that honestly seemed to suit Seulgi for a while.

Free of this context, we see the Seulgi character become increasingly bohemian, recontextualizing her day job as just another expression of her artistic side. Her interests are wide-ranging, and she attends to each with a contradictory mix of laidback cool and determined focus — to usually successful results. In the end, she’s quiet, accommodating, bookish, with a natural rhythm sometimes misapprehended as slowness (fan nicknames include “Slowgi” and “Sluggy”). Then there’s Youngji and Mijoo, vibrating at such high frequency as to occasionally blink out of the visible spectrum.

“Your nostrils are too big right now.”

As it turns out, Youngji and Mijoo have what some might call a “Tom and Jerry” dynamic, where they’re close enough and their personalities are such that Youngji will say something knowingly silly and Mijoo will, straight-faced, tell her to be quiet. And that’s just part of the routine, but, like, you would never tell Seulgi to be quiet, joking or not. Oh, my God, I can’t even imagine. And if the established duo brought Seulgi into that dynamic, would she be able to effectively bicker? Similarly, would she be able to speak up if things got too hectic?

She even voices this vibe difference herself:

SEULGI: When I’m with you guys, I get so hyped. Usually, I’m so…
MIJOO: Are you quiet?
SEULGI: …slow.

And you can see it here when they’re getting… lunch? I mean, they’re a couple beers deep and the traditional banchan is, like, hamburgers. But Youngji and Mijoo are doing Crossfire across the table and Seulgi’s in the middle just trying to keep up.

To her credit, she does, and I need to remember that this isn’t their first time meeting up, or even their second, after the TikTok dance. In the video, they talk about having gone bowling together and doing karaoke, to the point where they’re getting memories mixed up. And crucially, Hyojung is missing, though she does make a brief appearance via FaceTime. If I had to guess, I’d say that if they were riding a rollercoaster, it would be Youngji and Mijoo in one car and Seulgi and Hyojung in another.

While I get the impression that either Mijoo or Youngji were already friends with Hyojung, we know that Seulgi and Hyojung have been close for years. In fact, the trio had always been Seulgi, Hyojung, and Moonbyul. So the fact that this is “The ’94 Line” not only throws a wrench in Gyuri’s plans, but also my conception of a K-pop Instrumentality Project where eventually everyone is friends with everyone, because Moonbyul was born in 1992.

See, I’m already getting greedy and asking for more. I mean, I do desperately hope that Gyuri and Seulgi meet up, but I don’t know what good deed I’d done to summon the present video, despite that I can count my good deeds on one hand.

Despite my initial concern, and nervousness for Seulgi throughout, this video was gratifying — though still too short, at only 28 minutes. These three have a fun, weird dynamic, and it’ll only get better once Hyojung is involved. I’ll look forward to it.

And wait.

And wait.