A Shop for Killers named one of the best international TV shows of 2024 by The New York Times, has captivated audiences with its gripping suspense, razor-sharp action sequences, and a premise unlike any other. But amidst the bloodshed and chaos, one question lingers: why does the main character, a college student, insist on wearing a tracksuit?
One thing that is rare and difficult to find in Korea but abundantly present in A Shop for Killers is firearms. Pistols, shotguns, machine guns, and even drones equipped to fire like machine guns are strewn throughout the drama, playing key roles in the plot.
The opening scene alone, with its barrage of bullets targeting a college student named Ji-an in a house where she finds herself with an unknown killer and a foe disguised as a friend, sets the tone for what’s to come. Ji-an, the series’ young heroine, unwittingly inherits her late uncle’s internet shopping mall—a hub for professional assassins, spies, and fixers who clean up the messy aftermath of their violent deeds, including the bodies they leave behind. At this stage, it’s still unclear who wants Ji-an dead or why. Yet the noise, spectacle, and tension created by the omnipresent guns draw viewers in. Guns, undeniably, are the show’s main attraction.
The more guns dominate attention, however, the harder it becomes to make sense of them. In Korea, firearms are nearly absent outside of military contexts. Is the dramatic siege of Ji-an by unidentified killers purely an exercise in imagination? Or does it serve as a metaphor for the heavily armed border between North and South Korea?
The answer might lie not in the weapons but in something far more ordinary: Ji-an’s tracksuit. Through this unassuming piece of clothing, we may find a way to navigate the show’s strange, violent, and quirky world.
Throughout the eight episodes of the series, Ji-an wears a dark green tracksuit with white and red stripes running from shoulders to the wrists. In the cultural mapping of fashion and generational identity in Korea, this tracksuit immediately evokes images of high school students preparing for the gruelling national university entrance exams or unemployed university graduates desperately searching for job opportunities in a market already saturated with strong contenders possessing unmatched experience.
Together, they represent the MZ (Millennials and Gen Z) generation, who find themselves at a disadvantage compared to their parents’ generation. For the latter, a university degree once meant secure employment that could last a lifetime, and with it, a good life. In contrast, today’s young people work hard to get into university but face no guarantee that their degrees will lead to decent jobs. They live in a prolonged state of being students, fighting for their futures while remaining insulated from adulthood. In Korea, tracksuits have come to be associated with this endless struggle.
As killers come for Ji-an one after another, her tracksuit becomes trampled and soiled with blood and sweat, reinforcing its symbolism. The association of tracksuits with noble yet lonely battles has a long history in popular media, dating back to Bruce Lee in Game of Death (1978). Filmed before Lee’s death in 1973 and completed using three stand-in actors, the movie depicts him in a yellow tracksuit with black shoulder stripes, fighting a criminal syndicate exploiting people in the entertainment industry.
This iconic imagery reemerges in Kill Bill (2003), where Uma Thurman wears a yellow tracksuit in her quest for vengeance against Bill, the leader of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, who murdered her husband at their wedding. More recently, Lee Jung-jae’s green tracksuit in Squid Game became emblematic of survival as his character fought to win prize money and escape the crushing debt that threatened to consume his life.
What is depicted in A Shop for Killers seems to reflect the ongoing struggle of the younger generation to find their place in a society still dominated by the old and experienced. In the later episodes, it is revealed that the killers pursuing Ji-an are mercenaries—professionally trained and battle-hardened veterans from war zones. Jin-a, by contrast, is no professional assassin, yet she must find a way to defend herself.
What a dire predicament she finds herself in! Yet her only course of action is to persevere and continue fighting, refusing to defeat. No matter how long it takes or how hard it gets, she must push forward—whether her journey leads to a happy ending or not. Here’s to her relentless battle, one that is sure to continue in the second season.