Why Does Everyone in Korea Seem to Smell So Good?

An everyday subway ride in Seoul, where even the absence of a scent can spark curiosity. AI-generated illustration.

An unexpected observation about Korean subway rides, body odor, and the surprisingly interesting science behind both.

Affiliate disclosure: This article contains affiliate links. I may earn a small commission if you make a purchase through these links, at no additional cost to you.

One thing I've noticed since moving to Korea is how rarely I encounter body odor. Even on crowded public transportation, where you're standing close enough to strangers to know what they're looking at on their phones, it's surprisingly uncommon.

I don't mean that everyone smells like perfume. Most of the time, I don't notice any particular smell at all. But every once in a while, someone standing nearby will have really nice-smelling hair. It's usually something subtle and clean, not the kind of fragrance that announces itself before the person does. Sometimes I find myself wondering what shampoo they're using.

Having grown up in Los Angeles, I'm used to being around people from all sorts of backgrounds, and I never gave much thought to how different places might smell. But living in Korea has made me notice things I probably wouldn't have paid attention to before. The absence of body odor was one of them.

At first, I assumed it had something to do with personal-care habits. Then I came across something about genetics, which led me down a rather unexpected rabbit hole.

Apparently, It Has Something to Do With Earwax

There's a gene called ABCC11 that's associated with both underarm odor and earwax type. I realize those sound like two completely unrelated things, but apparently, they're connected.

Body odor isn't simply the smell of sweat. Much of the familiar underarm smell develops when bacteria on the skin break down certain substances released by sweat glands. ABCC11 affects whether some of those substances are secreted in the first place.

A particular version of this gene, which is especially common among East Asian populations, is associated with dry earwax and a significantly reduced production of certain underarm odor compounds. Researchers have studied this connection, including in a paper published in the Journal of Investigative Dermatology.

So yes, the reason I rarely notice body odor on Korean public transportation might have something to do with the same gene that determines whether someone's earwax is wet or dry.

Obviously, this doesn't mean Koreans never smell or don't sweat. People still sweat, and there are plenty of other factors that contribute to body odor. Not everyone has the same genetic variation, either. But it does help explain why a particular kind of underarm odor may be less common here.

I found the whole thing strangely fascinating. I was curious about something I'd noticed on the subway and somehow ended up learning more about earwax than I ever intended.

Then There's the Hair

AI-generated illustration of Korean hair-care products. Packaging may differ from actual products.

The genetics might help explain why I don't notice much body odor, but it doesn't explain why some people smell particularly nice.

And when I say nice, I don't necessarily mean perfume. More often, it's the kind of scent you associate with freshly washed hair. Something clean, slightly floral, or maybe a little powdery. I can't always tell what it is, but I notice it.

I've started paying more attention to the hair-care aisles in Korea, and there are a surprising number of products that seem to treat fragrance as part of the experience. Even an ordinary shampoo can come in several different scents.

KUNDAL, for example, sells its Honey & Macadamia Shampoo (Baby Powder), while Milk Baobab has a White Musk shampoo. UNOVE also offers scented versions of its Silk Hair Oil Essence. I haven't personally tried all of these, but they give you an idea of just how much variety there is when it comes to scented hair care in Korea.

I suppose it makes sense. If your shampoo, conditioner, or hair oil smells nice, you might not feel the need to wear perfume. And since hair moves around, a little fragrance can become noticeable when someone walks past or stands nearby.

That's not to say everyone in Korea uses scented hair products. I have no idea what the strangers on the subway are actually using, and I'm not about to ask. For all I know, the person whose hair smelled amazing could have been using the most ordinary shampoo from the supermarket.

But it's made me think about how much of what we associate with someone's personal scent might come from everyday products rather than an actual bottle of perfume.

I've always liked fragrances that don't feel too obvious. The kind you only notice when you're close to someone, rather than something that fills an entire room. Maybe that's why these little encounters have stuck with me. They're so brief that I sometimes wonder whether I imagined the scent in the first place.

Smell is funny that way. You can forget someone's outfit or what they said, but remember exactly how something smelled. A familiar shampoo can remind you of a person you haven't seen in years, or a particular scent can bring back a place you hadn't thought about in a long time.

Living in Korea has made me more aware of these small things. The smell of coffee when I walk past a café, bread from a bakery, laundry detergent, and occasionally, a stranger's really good shampoo. None of them are particularly remarkable on their own, but they're part of what I associate with being here now.

I still wouldn't say everyone in Korea smells good. That would be a pretty ridiculous claim. But I do think there's something interesting about how rarely I notice unpleasant body odor, especially in crowded places, and how often the scents I do notice are fairly subtle.

Now that I know about ABCC11, at least part of the mystery makes sense.

As for the people whose hair smells really good, I still want to know what shampoo they're using.