‘Young 40s’: Gen Z has found a new way to mock millennials for their style in South Korea

A new cultural phenomenon dubbed “Young 40s” has ignited intense generational tensions across South Korea, transforming fashion choices into social battlegrounds. What began as innocent style expressions by forty-somethings has evolved into a nationwide debate about age appropriateness, generational privilege, and shifting social hierarchies.

The controversy centers on middle-aged men like Ji Seung-ryeol, a 41-year-old fashion enthusiast who finds himself unexpectedly at the epicenter of online ridicule. Despite diligently sharing his carefully curated mirror selfies on Instagram—featuring coveted streetwear items like Nike Air Jordans and Stüssy T-shirts—he now faces widespread mockery for embracing styles traditionally associated with Gen Z and younger millennials.

The movement gained momentum following last September’s iPhone 17 release, when the smartphone—long considered a youth status symbol—suddenly became recast as a tacky trademark of desperate middle-agers. AI-generated caricatures depicting middle-aged men decked out in streetwear while clutching iPhones have gone viral, with Gen Z critics labeling them as trying too hard to appear youthful while refusing to accept the passage of time.

Market research from Gallup reveals telling consumption patterns: while most young South Koreans still prefer iPhone to Samsung Galaxy, Apple’s market share has declined by 4% among Gen Z consumers while surging 12% among forty-somethings over the past year.

This phenomenon represents more than mere fashion criticism—it exposes Korea’s complex relationship with age dynamics. In a society where even single-year age differences establish social hierarchy dictating everything from conversational honorifics to drinking etiquette, the Young 40s memes signify youth’s growing skepticism toward forced reverence for elders. Just years earlier, the term “kkondae” emerged to describe rigid, condescending elders, indicating preexisting generational friction.

According to Korea University sociology professor Lee Jae-in, social media has exacerbated these tensions by creating spaces where “multiple generations mix within the same space,” dismantling traditional boundaries that once separated generational cultural consumption.

The term “Young 40” originally emerged in 2010s marketing circles to describe health-conscious, tech-comfortable forty-somethings with youthful sensibilities. Trend analyst Kim Yong-Sup, widely credited with coining the term, notes that as South Korea’s median age rose, these consumers moved from society’s margins to its center.

However, analytics platform SomeTrend reveals the term has taken a sardonic turn, with over 100,000 online mentions in the past year—more than half in negative contexts frequently accompanied by words like “old” and “disgusting.” An even more derogatory offshoot, “Sweet Young 40,” sarcastically labels middle-aged men who flirt with younger women.

Psychologist Oh Eun-kyung suggests these jokes represent “punching up” at privileged generations who accumulated wealth during economic stability and property booms, unlike contemporary youth facing soaring housing prices and cut-throat job competition. To struggling younger generations, Young 40s symbolize “the generation that made it through just before the door of opportunity closed”—not merely individuals with personal taste but symbols of privilege and power.

Yet those living the reality tell a different story. Ji remembers submitting approximately 70 job applications during the Asian financial crisis of the late 1990s, representing a generation that “had very little to enjoy growing up, and only began to enjoy things later, as adults.”

Now in workplaces, many forty-somethings feel caught between generations—sandwiched between older superiors who maintained “strict, top-down systems” and younger colleagues who constantly question “why.” This interstitial position, once considered a badge of honor, now generates self-consciousness about being labeled kkondae or Young 40.

As another fashionable 41-year-old named Kang observes, the phenomenon ultimately reveals a universal human desire: “As you get older, longing for youth becomes completely natural. Wanting to look young is something every generation shares.”