It took me 16 years to watch Boys Over Flowers, and… Ew.
I know, I know. How dare I? Hand in your KDrama lover badge right now!
But hear me out.
Unlike the rest of the world, I missed the Boys Over Flowers indoctrination in 2009/2010. I was busy — knee-deep in Filipino and Indian series. Don’t worry, though, Lee Min-ho still found me, eventually, in Personal Taste, with his oversized coats and tragic eyes. I was in love.
That was the first time I ever binged anything. Eyes glued to the screen till sunrise, sobbing into my sheets. I’m pretty sure I had an exam the next day. Worth it.
But the powder was blown, and I was hooked on chaebol sons, makeovers, piggyback rides, and wildly inappropriate workplace romances. Every few years, when I needed that warmed-to-your-stomach, make-me-a-blanket-burrito, tear-basket feeling, I reached for another KDrama.
And honestly? I found some great ones. Ask me nicely, I’ll drop my recs.
My formula was simple: Search for Lee Min-ho’s latest. Sit back, and watch my heart leave my chest.
This year, when I saw When the Stars Gossip coming, I got all excited. The Lee Min-ho comeback! Then it dropped… and I couldn’t get past the first episode.
Ah ah, what is this? Am I falling out of love with Lee Min-ho and his terrible English?
To remind myself why I fell in love in the first place, I decided to go back to the beginning—the OG cult classic.
Surely I’d fall for my man all over again.
Spoiler: It didn’t happen.
Shinwa High School is the school for the 1%, but for “noblesse oblige,” the school lets in a few outsiders on scholarships. In truth, these scholarship kids are just here to entertain the most notorious and richest students in the school – the F4, led by Gu Jun-pyo (Lee Min-ho), whose idea of fun is bullying students until they either drop out or consider more tragic options.
Their victims get a “Red Card” in their locker and are collectively destroyed by the student body.
Then comes Geum Jan-di, daughter of a dry cleaner, who saves a victim mid-attempt and ends up on national news. To clean up the scandal, the school offers her a scholarship.
She quickly catches Jun-pyo’s eye — and wrath. He sends the bullies after her, but she refuses to bow. Meanwhile, another F4 member, Yoo Ji-hoo, gentle and broody, keeps saving her.
Naturally, Jun-pyo goes from tormentor to obsessed, while Jan-di finds herself falling for Ji-hoo, who’s in love with someone else, while Jun-pyo insists on inserting himself into her life.
Alright, maybe I overreacted with that “ew,” so let me explain everything, good, bad, and what’s going on here.
I have never seen another K-drama do rich the way Boys Over Flowers does. When they say Jun-pyo is chaebol, they show it.
His family owns literally everything there is to be owned in the country — private island, ships, planes, helicopters, and all of the fast cars. I did not have to imagine the extent of his riches.
Jun-pyo throws money and all sorts of gifts at Jan-di and her family, and when the time comes, his mother excels at her evil mother-in-lawness just purely by showing how exhaustingly rich they are. I cannot express just how happy this made me.
Replacing everything Jan-di owned with better versions overnight? Spontaneous Jet2holidays where nobody cared about saving fifty pounds per person?
Mommy throwing out three million dollars and saying, “If that’s not enough, tell me.”?
Mommy bankrupting other rich people’s business because she felt like it?
Ugh yessssssss.
Oh nooo, the 2000s style just doesn’t stop being funny to me. Those blinding prints and skinny jeans? Every outfit felt like a fever dream sponsored by Ed Hardy. But weirdly, Ji-hoo’s look grew on me. He needed that mop to mope properly.
Also, shout out to Jun-pyo’s sister; she never missed once.
This part, unfortunately, is where everything begins to fall apart. True, this was the 2000s, and we were used to soap operas basically jumping from one storyline to the other (seriously, Telemundo and Zee World). But lord, it was so disjointed!
One minute, Jan-di’s best friend Min-ji is setting her up, but everything is solved in two episodes, and she drops off the face of the earth.
Seo-hyun, Ji-hoo’s initial love interest, just jets off to Paris, and we never really see her again.
All this happens before the first ten episodes are done, and there are twenty-five!
Out of the blue, a dude comes and kidnaps Jan-di when it seems like she’s falling out of love with Jun-pyo, and she hurts her shoulder saving him when he comes to save her. That hurt shoulder costs her swimming, her entire passion.
Jun-pyo had to save the business in Macau, but then he was suddenly back at school and never went to the office again.
Jun-pyo’s father woke up from his coma, and we don’t see any consequences or rewards for anything or anyone.
Nobody actually attended class. The swim team was literally Jan-di… I don’t know what to tell you. It bothered me so much.
Also, justice for Woo-bim, bro, was a walking exposition point.
Now listen. This part is personal.
If a K-drama female lead is caught in a love triangle and one of the guys rides a bike? He’s already lost. Trust me.
Even when Ji-hoo is clearly her soulmate and would burn the world for her, she picks Jun-pyo, the human embodiment of red flags and tantrums. Sure, enemies-to-lovers is a top-tier trope. But Jun-pyo never really stopped being her op.
I don’t believe she truly loved him. Liked? Yes. Loved? Maybe. But loved enough to pick him over Ji-hoo? Absolutely not. Justice for Motorcycle Boy.
Do I regret watching Boys Over Flowers? No. Would I watch it again? Also no. But do I get why it changed K-drama history forever? Absolutely.
There’s something nostalgic and unhinged about BOF that makes it a rite of passage, especially if you love a good poor-girl-meets-rich-boy, evil-mom, accidental-hug-in-the-rain combo.
But if you missed Boys Over Flowers during your K-drama baby years like I did? The spell might not hit the same.
