I spent an hour looking for a specific makeup brush and ended up with nothing

Getting lost in the rows of cosmetics

I went to a large beauty expo in Seoul last weekend because I felt like my makeup routine had become stale. I’ve been using the same Iope Retinol product for months now, and while it works fine, I felt like I needed a change in my actual application tools. The place was packed, and honestly, it felt less like a place to browse and more like a crowded subway station during rush hour. I kept getting shoved by people holding massive bags of samples. I remember thinking that even the Cheolsan hair salon I visit back home is more peaceful than this chaotic expo hall. I wandered past booths showcasing various cosmetic ODM production lines, which felt way too corporate and irrelevant to what I was actually looking for, which was just a decent brush set that wouldn’t fall apart after a month.

The hunt for a simple brush

I walked up to several stalls asking for individual eye brushes. Every person behind the counter seemed to be a professional consultant trying to sell me a whole skincare regimen rather than letting me touch the products. One lady insisted that my skin tone was ‘misaligned’ with my current choices and tried to push a serum that cost over 150,000 KRW. I just wanted a brush. Prices for these things were all over the place—some generic sets were 15,000 KRW, while others were bundled into ‘professional’ kits that cost nearly 200,000 KRW. It all felt like a weird game where the actual utility of the item was hidden behind brand jargon. I spent at least two hours weaving through the aisles, but every time I thought I found a decent-looking brush, I realized the bristles were either too stiff or synthetic in a way that felt like cheap plastic.

The reality of my makeup pouch

By the time I left, my makeup pouch, which I had brought along to see if my new brushes would fit, remained mostly empty. I didn’t buy a single thing. I think part of me was just overwhelmed by the scale of the industry. You see news about these massive conglomerates and their ‘global growth strategies’ or their investments into high-end medical beauty clinics, and then here I am, just trying to find a brush to blend my concealer properly. It’s a strange disconnect. I could have just gone to an Olive Young store nearby and grabbed a gift card or a basic set, but I had this idea that going to an exhibition would offer something more specialized. It didn’t.

Walking away with empty hands

I ended up sitting at a coffee shop near the exit, nursing an iced americano that cost way more than it should have, just watching people carry their heavy loot bags. I felt a bit foolish for spending the whole afternoon there. There’s a certain frustration in realizing that the industry is moving toward these huge, high-value medical innovations and ‘future strategies’ while the simple, everyday tools I actually need are getting harder to buy without being cornered by a sales pitch. Maybe I should have just stayed home or gone to that vocational academy nearby to see if they actually teach people how to make these things, rather than just selling them. I’m still using my old, fraying brush from three years ago, and honestly, it might just keep doing the job for another few months. I don’t feel like I learned anything profound, just that sometimes, avoiding the crowd is better than searching for the ‘perfect’ tool.