Inside Korea's Last Traditional Saekdong Workshop, a Family Keeps the Stripes Alive

A weaving tradition holds on in Gongju

Han Du-heum founded Dongwon Textile in 1987, just as the industry behind one of Korea's most familiar fabrics was shrinking. As of December 3, 2025, the founder and CEO, now 73, oversees what is believed to be the country's last traditional workshop still weaving true saekdong, the fabric recognized by its bright vertical stripes.

In a modest factory on the outskirts of Gongju in South Chungcheong Province, Han keeps a production method alive that once supported weaving businesses across Korea. His customers reach him mainly through wholesalers supplying hanbok makers and craftspeople. His son and daughter in law are learning the work, giving the business a possible next generation.

Saekdong's story reaches beyond a single factory. Its colors have dressed children for birthdays and holidays, filled wedding bedding and appeared in souvenirs. Today, the same visual language is finding fresh uses in fashion, museum merchandise and household objects, even as the woven fabric faces competition from cheaper printed stripes.

Han has stayed with weaving because he believes it produces richer color and longer wear. The challenge is to turn renewed attention to Korean heritage into orders for a material that takes time, skill and careful machine preparation to make.

Dongwon's survival brings two parts of that story together: the cultural attachment to the stripes and the business needed to keep producing them. A pattern can remain familiar long after the workshops that once made it have closed. In Gongju, a family is working to preserve both the fabric and the knowledge behind it.

What the five colors mean

Saekdong usually consists of five to seven bands of color arranged in repeating sequences. Its palette grows from obangsaek, the traditional system of five core colors that connects East Asian cosmology with everyday aesthetics. Cosmology, in this setting, describes a way of understanding order in nature and the relationships between its parts.

Blue is associated with the east and spring. Red belongs to the south and summer. Yellow represents the center and earth. White is linked to the west and autumn, while black is connected with the north and winter.

These associations help explain why saekdong has carried meanings of harmony, balance and good fortune. The stripes are more than a bright surface decoration. Their arrangement brings the colors into a repeated order that traditional viewers associate with nature and well being in family life.

Children's clothing has been one of the clearest expressions of that meaning. On a jacket or overcoat, the bands signal celebration and a wish for the child's health. Generations of Korean families have encountered the fabric through clothing worn for important occasions.

Modern weavers sometimes add two hues to the foundational palette, bringing the total to seven. The extra colors can make the contrast stronger and the fabric brighter while retaining the balanced arrangement that gives saekdong its familiar appearance.

How colored threads become stripes

Saekdong was once made from silk or fine plant fibers such as ramie. Natural colorants extracted from plants and minerals supplied the dyes. Slow production and high cost helped make the fabric an heirloom material in earlier eras, something families could value and keep.

Textile technology later brought rayon and polyester into the craft. These fibers offered durability, lower costs and color fastness, meaning an ability to retain color through use and washing. Synthetic fibers made the stripes cheaper and more accessible during the 20th century, opening the way to wider uses in clothing, bedding and souvenirs.

Two sets of threads form woven cloth. The warp runs along its length, while the weft travels across its width and interlaces with the warp. In woven saekdong, groups of colored warp threads create the vertical bands. The stripes therefore emerge as the fabric is made.

Printed saekdong follows a different process. A producer applies pigment to an already made base fabric, placing the pattern on its surface. Printing is faster and less expensive, which makes it useful for souvenirs and light household goods.

Weaving places the color in the threads themselves. That gives the cloth depth as light falls across it, while the points where differently colored warp sections meet create crisp stripe edges, thread by thread. The woven structure also gives greater resilience through washing and wear, one reason traditional makers value the method.

From children's celebrations to wedding bedding

References to striped cloth in Korean history reach back to the early kingdoms. The pattern became familiar during the Joseon period and later moved between aristocratic customs and ordinary family life through clothing, bedding and festive accessories.

Many Koreans associate saekdong most closely with children's hanbok, traditional Korean clothing. A jeogori is a jacket, often remembered here for its striped sleeves. A kkachi durumagi is a winter overcoat worn for celebrations such as the New Year or a child's first birthday.

The first birthday celebration, known as doljanchi, is a milestone in family life. Saekdong's festive colors and wishes for health made the fabric a natural part of clothing for that occasion. The same associations helped the stripes travel beyond children's wardrobes.

Wedding bedding became a major setting for saekdong during the 1970s and 1980s. Bright striped quilts filled bridal trousseaus, the belongings prepared for a bride's married life. They were especially familiar in provincial towns with strong textile traditions.

Demand declined in the 1990s as household interiors and bedding habits changed. Western style beds replaced thick wedding quilts, while printers could produce similar looking stripes faster and more cheaply. Families chose printed quilts or set ceremonial bedding aside, and weaving businesses closed or converted their machines to other products.

The dates behind the industry's retreat

Dongwon Textile entered the market during this transition. Han's decision to start the company in 1987 placed the workshop between the years when striped wedding bedding was widely used and the following decade, when demand weakened.

The chronology shows how saekdong remained culturally recognizable while its manufacturing base narrowed:

• Early Korean kingdoms: historical references to striped cloth appear.
• Joseon period: the pattern becomes familiar in clothing and festive customs.
• 20th century: synthetic fibers make striped fabric cheaper and more accessible.
• 1970s and 1980s: saekdong wedding bedding fills bridal trousseaus, especially in provincial textile towns.
• 1987: Han Du-heum establishes Dongwon Textile as the industry is shrinking.
• 1990s: changing interiors, Western style beds and cheaper printed stripes reduce demand for woven wedding bedding.
• December 3, 2025: Han, aged 73, continues production in Gongju and is training his son and daughter in law.

Han's continued commitment to the loom has kept Dongwon connected to customers who still want woven cloth. Rather than abandoning the process as other weaving houses did, he has maintained a specialized production line serving traditional clothing makers and the craft trade.

Inside Dongwon's loom room

Han begins production by winding six or seven colors onto a warp roller. Each color is measured to create a clean, repeating sequence. Spindles, rollers and shuttles form the machinery through which that arrangement becomes fabric.

Once the loom is threaded, it interlaces a neutral weft across the colored warp. The crossing threads lock the vertical bands into the cloth. Much of the skill lies in preparation: the color order shapes the fabric's mood, and the tension must remain even across all the stripes to prevent waviness.

Dongwon's looms do not operate every day because orders fluctuate. Han instead builds inventory in standard widths and color combinations, allowing the workshop to send fabric promptly when a hanbok maker or craft studio needs it.

Finishing is another part of the work. Dongwon's woven saekdong is strong enough for garments and decorative goods. Artisans value the way its seams press flat and its edges hold their shape, qualities that matter when a length of fabric becomes a jacket, bag or household object.

Most production goes to wholesalers. They connect the workshop with small orders from around Korea, keeping fabric moving to makers without requiring the factory to manage the full workload of retail sales.

The surface of woven saekdong also has a subtle texture. Tiny ridges appear where warp and weft meet, and dyed filaments give the colors a richer appearance than a surface layer of ink. Traditional makers point to these qualities when explaining the value of the woven version.

Because color runs through the thread, the stripes wear evenly over time. The fabric's appearance, texture and handling are all part of the reason Han continues to favor weaving, even when printed alternatives are easier to produce.

A family learns the work

Han is teaching his son and daughter in law how to prepare the warp, balance thread tension and judge color sequences. Traditional weaving depends on apprenticeship, with practical knowledge passed through repeated work at the machines.

Learning the sequence of tasks is only part of that process. The next generation also needs the judgment to keep the machinery tuned, recognize an uneven setup and maintain the color arrangement that customers expect.

Family training helps preserve technique while sharing the demands of a small business. Dongwon needs steady, careful hands to keep production moving and fill orders, particularly when demand is unpredictable.

The succession effort is gradual. No date has been given for a transfer of the business. For now, Han remains in charge while teaching the skills that his family would need to continue operating the looms.

Fashion and design give saekdong new settings

Korean heritage has gained fresh visibility internationally, encouraging designers to return to traditional motifs. International fashion houses have introduced items inspired by saekdong color schemes in recent seasons, bringing the stripes into settings far removed from wedding quilts or children's holiday clothing.

Collaborations in Korea have combined the stripes with pop culture motifs on wallets, pouches and other small accessories. These products carry the pattern to younger shoppers through objects they can use in daily life.

In Seoul, a new multipurpose venue opened by a major luxury house uses soft vertical stripes in its galleries and stairways. The interior offers a subtle reference to local craft as visitors move between floors.

The Seoul Design Foundation has also promoted contemporary interpretations. At a recent global design fair, it highlighted young studios adapting heritage codes for everyday goods. One brand used saekdong inspired textiles for household products, including warm throws and playful kitchen items.

Museum shops in Korea sell bags and home objects using the palette. Examples include a quilted tote tied with a ribbon taken from the child's jeogori and a shoulder bag with a geometric cutout pattern. Fabric bags and compact accessories are among the popular museum shop products associated with saekdong.

Crowdfunded sneakers with striped panels have brought the colors into footwear. Small furniture pieces and lighting have offered other uses, including stools and lamps wrapped in saekdong colorways. The range of objects shows how the stripes can move beyond hanbok while remaining recognizable.

Where the fabric still meets everyday life

Children's hanbok remains the most common place to see saekdong. Specialty retailers and leading traditional markets in Seoul sell jackets with multicolored sleeves for holidays and first birthdays, keeping the pattern connected to the family occasions that helped make it familiar.

Interior designers are also using the palette in smaller objects. Wool covered stools and lamps with hanji paper shades printed in bands of color bring a restrained Korean accent into living rooms and workspaces.

Craftspeople sometimes combine saekdong with jogakbo, the patchwork tradition that turns leftover silk into decorative wrapping cloths. Bright rectangles are stitched into balanced grids, with true woven saekdong placed alongside pieces of plain colored fabric.

Jogakbo joins careful arrangement with economy, using remaining pieces of cloth to make something useful and visually ordered. When combined with woven stripes, it produces work that can feel historical and modern at the same time.

These uses connect different parts of saekdong's present market. Traditional clothing keeps its ceremonial role alive, while museum retail, accessories and interiors give the colors room in daily life. Dongwon's wholesale network supplies makers within this wider craft economy.

Preservation depends on a working business

Dongwon faces competition from printed stripes that can be imported quickly. Many customers cannot distinguish woven and printed fabric at a glance, while woven saekdong costs more and requires time and skill to produce.

Unpredictable orders add to the pressure. Han keeps his machinery flexible and works through wholesalers whose customers include hanbok studios and small brands. This network connects the factory with makers who value the cloth's quality and traditional method.

A small exhibition hall in Han's town preserves the memory of the regional textile trade. School groups and tourists visit, learning how fabric production once supported the local economy. That attention gives the surviving craft greater visibility.

Film and television productions seeking historical accuracy, cultural events that dress children in traditional clothing, and curated retail that explains the story of the stripes each provide small but real support. Together, they connect the working loom with audiences beyond the factory's regular buyers.

Practical collaboration between workshops, designers and educators offers other ways to support production. The approaches described below connect traditional material with today's market without depending on large budgets:

• Short capsule collections using traceable woven saekdong, with clear labels identifying the fiber, dye and place of production.
• Residencies that put young designers in a working loom room for several weeks, linking studio experimentation with factory limits.
• Limited interior collections, including cushions, runners and lampshades, where small production runs can display the depth of woven color.
• Digital teaching materials explaining obangsaek and basic weaving, allowing school projects to tell the story behind the stripes.
• Repair and alteration services that keep saekdong garments in use longer, reduce waste and build customer loyalty.
• Seasonal commissions from cultural institutions, connecting exhibitions with merchandise made by artisans and available to a broad public.

Han's workshop brings those possibilities back to a concrete task: preparing colored threads, keeping their tension even and weaving cloth that someone will buy and use. Passing on that work requires both practical training and continued demand.

Key Points

• Dongwon Textile in Gongju is believed to be Korea's last traditional workshop weaving true saekdong.
• Founder and CEO Han Du-heum, 73 as of December 3, 2025, established the company in 1987.
• Saekdong's five to seven color bands draw from obangsaek, a palette associated with directions, seasons, harmony and good fortune.
• Woven stripes use colored threads within the fabric's structure; printed stripes apply pigment to finished cloth.
• Wedding bedding supported demand in the 1970s and 1980s before changing household habits and cheaper prints reduced the market.
• Dongwon supplies wholesalers serving hanbok makers and craftspeople, while Han trains his son and daughter in law.
• Fashion, museum merchandise, household design and local textile exhibitions are bringing fresh attention to the stripes.
• Higher production costs and uncertain orders remain central business pressures for the surviving workshop.