Trying to pick something that isn’t embarrassing
I found myself standing in the middle of the first-floor cosmetics section at Lotte Department Store in Daejeon last Saturday. The air was thick with that specific mixture of high-end perfume and the slightly overwhelming scent of twenty different skincare lines competing for space. I was there because my father’s birthday is coming up, and for some reason, I decided that skincare was the right direction. My budget was floating somewhere around 120,000 KRW. Looking at the price tags, I immediately realized that my target range was actually quite narrow. Anything that looked remotely ‘gift-worthy’ in a heavy glass bottle usually started at 150,000 KRW and climbed from there. It felt like I was playing a game of trying to find the one item that wouldn’t make me look cheap while still staying under my self-imposed limit.
The Sulwhasoo versus Hera dilemma
I hovered around the Sulwhasoo counter for a while. It’s the classic choice for a reason, I suppose, but the packaging on the starter sets felt a bit too grand. I wondered if he would actually use a six-step process or if it would just collect dust on the bathroom shelf until it expired. I shifted over to Hera, where things felt a little more modern, but I couldn’t decide if a basic toner and emulsion set was a boring gift or a practical one. The salesperson looked like they were ready to help, but I had that sudden, familiar urge to just disappear into the crowd. I didn’t want a recommendation; I wanted to know what would actually get used. There’s something uncomfortable about guessing what a parent needs for their skin when you don’t even know what you’re using half the time.
Watching the crowd at the pop-up stores
There was a pop-up stall nearby featuring some fermented red ginseng herbal skincare line. It was attracting a surprising amount of attention, mostly from people older than me. I watched for a minute, seeing a woman ask a dozen questions about the texture of a cream. It reminded me of those articles I’ve read about how department stores are trying to pivot toward ‘experience marketing’ to get people off their phones and into physical shops. Honestly, standing there in the heat, waiting for a consultant to finish with another customer, I didn’t feel like I was having a ‘premium experience.’ I felt like I was just tired and slightly anxious about getting the wrong thing. It made me miss the simplicity of just ordering something online, even if that feels a bit colder.
Leaving without a shopping bag
After about forty minutes of circling the same three counters, I walked out of the department store empty-handed. My feet were starting to ache from the heels I shouldn’t have worn, and the sheer volume of options had turned into white noise. I kept thinking about that Jo Malone mini perfume bottle I saw on a shelf—it was exactly 110,000 KRW, but then I remembered he doesn’t really wear cologne. I realized that my insistence on getting something from a ‘big name’ brand was probably more about me wanting to feel like I’d put in a proper effort than it was about him actually needing a new face cream.
Still unsure if I made the right move
I eventually ended up at a cafe just outside the entrance, staring at my phone. Maybe I should have just gone for the wallet or a simple accessory instead. Skincare feels so personal, and honestly, if I get it wrong, it’s just another thing for him to store away. There’s a lingering doubt in the back of my mind that perhaps I’m overcomplicating it, but then again, finding a decent gift for a 50-something-year-old man who says he ‘doesn’t need anything’ is always going to feel like a losing battle. I’ll probably go back next week, or maybe I’ll just pick up a nice shirt and call it a day. I’m still not sure.
That Jo Malone thought is really insightful. It’s funny how we sometimes create these elaborate rituals around gifts.