How Accurate Was “XO, Kitty?”
From an alumni of K.I.S. (Korea International School)
“XO, Kitty” is the long-awaited spinoff from Jenny Han’s “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.” The spunky, effervescent Kitty Song Covey flies off to Seoul, South Korea, for — definitely not a boy. But kinda.
Equal parts K-drama and Disney-esque high school comedy, “XO, Kitty”, is reminiscent of K-drama classics “Boys Over Flowers” and “Inheritors.” Through Kitty’s search to reconnect with her mother by attending her former school — the one Kitty’s long-distance boyfriend happens to attend— we plunge into the alluring world of an elite Korean school. The classrooms are rife with wealthy heiresses and their chaffeur’s sons, the children of international moguls rubbing shoulders with kids who just wanted to go on an adventure and get out of France or the Philippines.
But how much of this world is realistic, and how much of it is fiction?
I might have some insight: I attended two Korean international schools for high school. The three questions I’ll address in this article are:
- Is K.I.S.S. a real school?
- Are international schools really that diverse?
- Are international schools really that lavish?
Scroll on for answers, with fun facts sprinkled throughout.
1. Is K.I.S.S. a real school?
No, but there are certainly schools like it. In fact, there’s a school called Korea International School (K.I.S., pronounced “Kay Eye Ess”, not “kiss”). The logo of the school is blue text on a white background, similar to the logo of the fictional school in “XO, Kitty,” Korea Independent School of Seoul (K.I.S.S.).
Fun fact: Many international schools have acronyms that end in “I.S.” for “international school” (like Seoul International School, S.I.S.) or “F.S.” for “foreign school” (like Seoul Foreign School, S.F.S.). Author Jenny Han was clever for inventing an acronym that follows this trend, though there are no schools that I can find where the “I” stands for “Independent.”
An Intro to international schools in Korea
The English-speaking schools in Korea can be split into several groups. There are the “foreign language” schools, and there are the “international schools.” The former tend to be more elite, while the latter can be accessed through money and power. Let me explain.
“Foreign language” schools are not limited to English-speaking schools. There are French schools for the children of French diplomats, for example. But the English-speaking foreign language schools, in particular, are like Korean (public) charter schools. Admissions are based almost solely on competence. These students are the top of the top among Koreans who grew up in Korea.
International schools, while still elite, can be accessed through money and power. Sure, you have to take a standardized admissions test and submit your grades, but with all due respect, it’s easier to buy your way into these schools.
I attended an international school — and students liked to point out whose father built the appendix or whose mom is a famous singer. The kids were still smart, but academics wasn’t their only focus in life, unlike the uniform-wearing students who attended English-speaking foreign language schools.
What did “XO, Kitty” get wrong?
First, you wouldn’t find an international boarding school in Seoul. Most of the international schools in Seoul are not boarding schools, and most of the (international) boarding schools are out in smaller cities, villages, or the countryside. The most well-known international boarding school in Korea might be Taejon Christian International School (T.C.I.S.), about a three-hour bus ride from the heart of Seoul.
Second, international schools don’t require uniforms. It’s the foreign-language schools that require uniforms since, as I mentioned before, they’re more like Korean charter schools. They’re essentially Korean public schools for the brightest.
On the other hand, since international schools are meant to serve as stepping stones to colleges in America, they’re more American in spirit, including not requiring a uniform.
Fun fact: International schools even go so far as to enforce a “No Korean” policy, meaning students could get disciplined and even go to detention if teachers heard them speaking Korean. This wasn’t really enforced between classes, since most teachers were cool enough to understood people just want to speak their mother language when they’re not in class, but it’s a policy that ostensibly exists to make sure students are getting the most out of their English-language education.
2. Are international schools really that diverse?
It depends. Certainly, where everyone came from is diverse — New Zealand, all over the United States, Canada, or Seoul itself. Racial and ethnic diversity varies by school, but it’s probably also increased over time.
I attended two international schools, one for my freshman year (Korea International School) and another for the rest of high school (Seoul International School ). When I attended back in the mid-2000s, there was literally only one non-Korean student I can remember across both schools. There were a handful of students where one of their parents was Korean, and the other was not.
There’s another international school in Seoul that was built to educate the children of U.S. military personnel, Seoul American High School (S.A.H.S.). As you can imagine, S.A.H.S. was much more diverse in terms of race and ethnicity.
Finally, along the dimension of socioeconomic class, even among the privileged 1% who are able to attend these schools, there is diversity. I found it helpful to think of “legacy kids” versus “emergency kids.” I consider myself the latter: “emergency kids” are those that ended up at the school because they had to move to Korea for some emergency but were not equipped to survive the Korean public school system. Most of these emergencies seemed to be family-related, and most of the emergency kids did not speak proficient Korean.
Three cousins from the Hyundai jaebeol dynasty were in my grade. One… used connections for a class project: while the rest of us were using free video editing software with our handheld cameras…, she got a studio to produce her project.
“Legacy kids,” on the other hand, were often the heirs of major companies (yes, it happens; K-dramas are not complete fantasy) or other powerful, well-off people. These kids don’t “end up” at the school; they are strategically placed there by their parents. The kids are often born and raised in Seoul, sent abroad for just long enough to fill the “lived abroad” requirement for their respective schools, and then brought back. The kids are fluent in Korean due to their upbringing in Seoul but also fluent in English due to their education.
Fun fact: International schools are a smart option for educating your wealthy child because 1) they’re not as grueling as Korean public schools, 2) they provide more access to colleges in the West due to their American curriculum, and 3) you get to stay in South Korea all together without having to split the family up, or relocate somewhere new. If you can afford it, it’s a win-win-win situation.
But did people actually mingle across different groups?
The cliquey-ness of Korean international schools
No, reader, they did not mingle. Do you remember that iconic scene in Mean Girls where we walk through the different lunch tables? That’s what it was like. Day after day, the same girls would sit at the same tables. The boys were a bit more fluid, but we all knew who belonged where.
I laughed out loud in Mean Girls when the narrator pointed out the “Nerdy Asians” vs the “Cool Asians” — because it’s true.
But the thing about Korea is that nerds are cool. In fact, nerd is not even a slur that exists. There are similar terms like “oh-deok,” more familiar to Western audiences by the Japanese pronunciation, “otaku.” But they’re very specific to a particular interest, like anime, not to the act of studying itself.
The other thing about Korea is that most of the students, even in international schools, are Korean.
So along what dimensions did people split themselves into cliques? Was it race and ethnicity, with all the Koreans turning their backs on the handful of non-Koreans in the corner? Was it rich legacy kids vs poor emergency kids? Was it Aussies vs Americans vs Canadians?
No: the main dimension along which people split into cliques was Korean-speaking vs English-speaking — and that led to splitting along other dimensions.
The Korean-speakers had a queen bee…, and the English-speakers had their own queen bee.
Of course, it should go without saying people split themselves by strata of “coolness” — but what exactly made you cool depended on whether you were an English-speaker or Korean-speaker.
Can you guess what was considered cool among the English speakers? Athleticism. The cool English-speaking girls were star athletes. They came to school dressed in Adidas and Northface. They bore that typical “too unbothered to care what I wear” look.
What do you think was considered cool among Korean speakers? Don’t laugh: smoking. But you have to understand, I don’t mean just smoking Marlboro’s behind the school. I mean the whole attitude of showing up in tastefully understated designer clothes, socializing throughout the class while acing all your assignments, then going out for smokes and clubbing. The Korean-speaking cool kids had the work ethic of diehard Korean public school students with all the nonchalant swag of preppy American kids.
The Korean speakers had a queen bee (complete with an electric Serena to her effortless Blaire), and the English speakers had their own queen bee (a too-cool-for-school triple athlete, her hair swept up in a perpetual bun).
The Korean-speaking cool kids had the work ethic of diehard Korean public school students with all the nonchalant swag of preppy American kids.
And then there was the rest of us: the Korean-speaking nerds and the English-speaking nerds. The Korean-speaking nerds were a bit more serious about their academic studies. They were always dressed prim and proper and would go on to Ivy League schools and consulting. The English-speaking nerds I hung out with were a bit more all over the place, a bit grunge or emo, and a lot more artistic.
Believe it or not, the English- vs Korean-speaker dimension didn’t align with whether you were an emergency kid or a legacy kid. Plenty of legacy kids preferred to speak in English (and play sports). Somehow, though they had lived abroad for several months at most, English-speaking legacy kids seemed more Americanized than a lot of the American emergency kids. On the other hand, some of the emergency kids emulated Korean culture so much that they would speak and act “Korean,” even if their accents gave them away.
…“emergency kids” are those that ended up at the school because they had to move to Korea for some emergency but were not equipped to survive the Korean public school system.
What did that mean for racial and ethnic minorities? Most of them fit in with the cool kids. I do think a lot of it had to do with how these individuals carried themselves. There was a boy of Indian descent who hung out with the cool English-speaking kids because everyone adored him for how confidently hilarious he was. There were kids of Japanese, Chinese, and Russian descent, and most that I remember hung out with the cool Korean speakers with their expansive cultural palate. But that might be because there were only a handful of people at my school who weren’t 100% Korean.
In a brief exchange with someone from S.A.H.S, the school for American military children, a student told me the racial and ethnic diversity at his school made the cliquey-ness worse — because people would only mingle with people of the same race or ethnicity.
So did “XO, Kitty” get it wrong?
“XO, Kitty” shows the main character hanging out with literally four people the entire semester. This could just be a trope of teenage comedies from any part of the world (there’s only enough time for so many characters!), but it’s not that far-fetched based on my experience. The cliques at my school were a bit larger, around eight girls, and some of them might have a friend or two at other tables, but otherwise, we were stuck in our cliques.
In terms of racial and ethnic inclusion, it’s hard to say because it’s been almost two decades since I left high school. I have seen how Seoul has become more diverse, thanks in large part to Hallyu (the Korean wave, including K-pop and K-dramas). I know there have always been both Korean and non-Koreans who are curious about each other and others who literally don’t care as long as you find a connection. When I left Seoul, this was a reality at my particular school but not at others.
At the very least, I’d like to imagine kids can hang out with whomever they happen to get along with, regardless of socioeconomic background, race, or ethnicity. I thank Jenny Han for imagining a world like that.
3. Are international schools really that lavish?
Believe it or not: yes — but they aren’t that flashy.
The students really were that rich
Three cousins from the Hyundai jaebeol dynasty were in my grade. One of them had never taken public transportation or tried street food until she ventured into it senior year. Another used connections for a class project: while the rest of us were using free video editing software with our handheld cameras (since phone video recording quality was low back then), she got a studio to produce her project.
One guy started off living in a shipping container but rose to penthouses in the most expensive apartments in Seoul when his dad’s business worked out.
One guy’s mom had something to do with the creation of Spongebob. Another guy’s dad constructed tunnels through mountains connecting Seoul to neighboring cities. One guy started off living in a shipping container but rose to penthouses in the most expensive apartments in Seoul when his dad’s business worked out. For his wedding recently, he was able to not only reserve one of the most expensive hotels in Seoul but also fly in friends from around the world. It truly was the stuff of K-dramas.
Even the “poorer” kids were still the children of parents who had studied abroad, a rare luxury for a country that only recently rose from poverty, famine, and war. The “poorer” kids' parents were still graduates and often professors of the top universities in Seoul.
The parties really were that ridiculous
Luxury hotels were considered backups to more luxurious hotels for prom. For one school dance, we booked the same location K-pop princes Taeyang and Psy used for music videos. DJs were sourced from the hottest clubs in Seoul, where unofficial afterparties congregated. And school field trips were not to the countryside but to Singapore, with spring break trips to Japan.
Fun fact: a handful of gifted students from S.I.S. dipped their toes into the Korean music industry, with one of them succeeding epically: Tablo, from Epik High. Other former students include Jessica from Girls’ Generation and Krystal from f(x). Entertainment companies sometimes send their trainees to international schools to help them continue their education and improve their English-speaking skills.
The one thing “XO, Kitty” got wrong is that nothing was *flashy*
If you watched “The Glory,” you might have noticed something: it’s the villains who are super expressive, loud, and flashy — all things that are valued in the West. In contrast, the heroine and her boyfriend were cool and stoic, with muted and neutral-tone clothes— all things that are valued in South Korea.
Of course, K-dramas are known for their enviable outfits, with social media accounts like kdrama_fashion and online retailers like Fashion Chingu making a name for themselves by identifying or copying each clothing item. But by-and-large K-drama protagonists tend to be stylish in a “tasteful” way, often emulating a more Parisian style (simple cuts, muted palettes).
I want to make it clear I don’t think one style is objectively tasteful and the other objectively tacky. This is my best way of relating what I think the Korean mindset would be, though I don’t think Korean people would be outright snobby or judgmental about their preferences.
The truly rich kids found ways to hint at their wealth by donning jewelry and clothes that “if you knew, you knew.”
The wardrobe was probably the biggest hint that “XO, Kitty” is an Americanized K-drama. The fits were cute and age-appropriate. They just weren’t that believable. Bright orange and neon pink would definitely stand out in Seoul, and not necessarily in a good way. The queen bees I knew didn’t wear glittering dresses with big puffy sleeves. Their wardrobes were often minimalistic (even as they used $2,000 Goyard totes as schoolbags). Even for dances, they would wear something “elegant,” usually one tone, and definitely not sequined.
This is because it’s often looked down on to flaunt your wealth. Especially in Korea, the richest of the rich seek out designer clothes that are not branded, that are not recognizable, because they don’t want to be labeled as “dwaenjang” — an insecure person who overcompensates by being ostentatious with their money.
The truly rich kids found ways to hint at their wealth by donning jewelry and clothes that “if you knew, you knew.” It was the “new wealth” kids who wore shirts with the brand logo printed across the front.
The same was true of the party venues. Obviously, it was ridiculously privileged that we got to book those venues in the first place as a bunch of pimply teenagers. But I don’t remember much decoration. The idea seemed to be to let the venue speak for itself, with minimalistic lighting and almost no additional decoration.
A Peek into the Unknown
High school sucked. I’m confident you can relate. I felt like a total aberration, an accident that didn’t fit in.
Yet, even as a self-identified outcast and “emergency kid,” I was ridiculously privileged to attend these schools. I may not have kept in touch with more than a couple of people, but just seeing how everyone’s gone on to important, successful lives is inspiring.
Look, these kids might be spoiled, but they’re kids. Just like kids from any other walk of life, they try their best. Some of them are more conscientious than others about becoming good people. But most of them are just trying to live life and have fun. Thanks to Jenny Han’s new Netflix series, I was able to take a trip down memory lane with fondness.
“XO, Kitty” is a fun dive into the world of the mega-rich.
