Pop Culture Consumerism and Berger’s Ways of Seeing, Amanda Monasar

Contextualizing Berger

Ways of Seeing, based on the BBC television series by John Berger, was written as a collaboration between Berger, Sven Blomberg, Chris Fox, Michael Dibb, and Richard Hollis and was published in 1972 more than fifty years ago. Yet, somehow, many of Berger’s arguments still remain relevant today, despite the world and the ways we interact with it having changed tremendously. At its core, Berger’s message was that images are never just images—what they are and how we understand them are shaped by contextual knowledge, cultural norms, and societal power structures. Berger put it very simply at the beginning of his first essay: “The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled” (Berger 7). The book consists of seven essays, some of which are entirely made of images to encourage a deeper engagement with pictorial media, primarily composed of oil paintings and older magazine advertisements. Ways of Seeing explores various theories related to the titular ways of seeing, including what is lost when images are reproduced, the manufacturing of glamour as a means of generating envy, and, perhaps most importantly, the male gaze, by examining the commodification of oil painting, even before this theory was formally named and recognized. Berger’s approach critically engaged with the notion that our perception of images is not solely determined by what is visually present.

The world we know now is virtually unrecognizable from the world Berger knew at the time the book was published. As an analogy and segue into fan culture, in 1972, the first Star Trek fan convention occurred, drawing a few thousand fans to the New York City hotel that played host. By the mid-1990s, it was estimated that “hundreds of Star Trek conventions were running across the United States” (Chafin), with tens to hundreds of thousands of attendees per convention. By 2025, we can safely assume that these numbers have increased to the millions as pop culture has become more accessible globally.

Likewise, as fan communities have evolved, so too have the rituals within them, expanding in size, culture, and participant demographics. Over time, corporations have become increasingly involved in fan culture as well, seeing these communities as profitable. This has led to new depictions of capitalism and other similar practices within these spaces.

Berger’s research into visual culture offers a surprisingly timeless message despite centring around antique imagery of oil paintings and magazine ads. While oil paintings are far from “trendy” in the 21st century, they serve as a notable example of publicity. Publicity is “the process of manufacturing glamour” (Berger 131) to offer the buyer a glimpse of their future that is “made glamorous by the product or opportunity it is trying to sell” (Berger 132), with the ultimate goal of rendering the buyer someone to be envied by the public.

We should strive to understand the importance of being conscious of the various expressions of consumerism present in contemporary society. By doing so, we can resist factors such as envy, the desire to attain glamour, or other superficial influences. Modern digital platforms like TikTok and Instagram, as well as the various online advertising channels that we may encounter on these websites, play a significant role in perpetuating highly glamourized lifestyles. Most times, they also reinforce narrow and Eurocentric beauty standards, gender roles, and capitalist ideals, which shape our perceptions in subtle but significant ways.

How to See a K-Pop Photocard

One of the rising phenomena from overseas in South Korea is that of the K-pop genre. Since its emergence in the early 1990s, it has grown into an extremely popular subculture among teenagers and young adults both across Asia and in the West, with its industry garnering global interest, becoming widely recognized as the country’s number one cultural export. Additionally, the K-pop industry’s commercial success is heavily fueled by its capitalistic approach, which emphasizes merchandise and branding. Fans are often encouraged to purchase official goods such as albums, clothing, accessories like lightsticks, and exclusive memorabilia. The sale of these objects increases revenue while being disguised as a way of bolstering fan loyalty and participating in fan culture.

Karl Marx posits that in a capitalist mode of production, labourers become alienated from their products. Although the idols are the ones in the photo and are the central subject, the product still does not belong to them. It belongs to their entertainment company, much in the same way that their entire likeness does, from the clothes they wear to the stage name they adopt. “The relationship of the worker to labour engenders the relation to it of the capitalist” (Marx and Engels). This alienation is a central part of Marxist theory. However, it can also be argued that a K-pop idol themselves becomes the commodity via the consumer, which reflects a Marxist idea about the commodification of human relationships under capitalism.

K-pop albums often come with a slew of additional content, such as an artbook, posters, postcards, stickers, and—perhaps most importantly—photocards. Photocards are small, collectible image cards, usually measuring 55 x 88 mm, of a K-pop idol. The cards are randomly included in official merchandise, typically albums, and function as a bit of a surprise regarding which member’s photocard will be included in the purchase. They have various designs, are almost always selfies, and are often only available by buying albums. They function as a key consumer practice within the K-pop community, and it would be difficult to find a K-pop fan unfamiliar with them. Photocards primarily exist to be a tradeable item within the community; fans trade and sell their photocards between each other in hopes of collecting either rare cards or cards of their favourite idols (known as their bias). The value of these cards is entirely dependent on the popularity of the idol themselves and the context surrounding the photocard (an inclusion in a rare re-released album, a brand collaboration, the idol’s fashion choice, etc.). However, there are some cases where photocards simply go viral on the internet organically, causing the perceived value of this card to increase. Since the distribution of photocards, fans and companies have created accessories such as plastic holders meant to display the cards, further demonstrating that their use has become widespread.

K-pop photocards exemplify Berger’s claims in Ways of Seeing that images are never neutral but embedded within systems of value, desire, and power. In this case, photocards derive meaning not from the object itself but from the social implications and emotional economies that frame them. As posited by Berger, oil paintings in Europe were less about art and more about the ruling class owning, showing off, and trading their wealth. “The art of any period tends to serve the ideological interests of the ruling class” (Berger 86). Trading cards and collectible culture in the 21st century function the same way, where the value of these cards lies in the status of owning the object. It could be said that just like portraits of land and property in the 17th century, trading cards “freeze” value into an image, turning representations into commodities. With the subject of a photocard being an idol, the nuances of visual culture become even more interesting.

Figure 1. Photographed photocard of Jang Wonyoung, from the album I’VE MINE (front view). Author’s personal collection.

Jang Wonyoung from the K-pop girl group IVE, as pictured in Figure 1, is the subject in this photocard. Her influence in the industry underscores the broader cultural significance of this item. Wonyoung is considered this generation of K-pop’s It Girl, as she has garnered numerous international brand endorsements and inspired a subculture of her own called “wonyoungism”, which idealizes her body, makeup, fashion, and overall aesthetic. As Berger put it, “glamour is a modern invention” (Berger 146). Here, Wonyoung’s image is basically functioning as a symbol of envy and desire: she is the epitome of glamour itself. For many young fans, especially girls, Wonyoung’s curated image and merchandise, including photocards, are objects of envy, and their market value is worth more than the rest of the members of her group. This photocard under examination is not the rarest Wonyoung card, but it can be found on eBay going for at least $40 CAD, which is more than the album itself—with all its extra content—costs ($34 CAD). This speaks to how her image functions in its social hierarchy.

In the photocard, Wonyoung’s gaze could potentially be interpreted as an intense focus on the viewer taken just slightly from above to draw attention to her large eyes and facial features, with minimal colours (hot pink and dark brown) featured in the composition. The pose itself is meant to be interpreted as a selfie shot, but it is not entirely clear if this is actually a selfie. Wonyoung’s makeup, hairstyle, and overall styling are meant to convey a polished, aesthetically pleasing look. The careful cropping invites the viewer’s gaze to Wonyoung’s face and delusions of eye contact, which contributes to a certain sense of intimacy between the idol and the audience—to afford this rare intimate moment with the idol, the photocard had to be bought. Thus, this intimacy is completely mediated by the commercial context of the item. The photocard itself serves as a way to frame Wonyoung as an idealized persona designed to attract fans’ attention and elicit desire.

Applying Berger’s perspective, the photocard itself is a reproduced image in which the meaning is not fixed but constructed through its circulation and consumption. Although it is mass-produced, the random nature of which card a fan receives in their album purchase imbues each photocard with perceived scarcity and value.

In Mirzoeff’s How to See the World, he posits that there are two main forms of selfies. “A celebrity selfie, like those of Kim Kardashian, is intended to maintain and extend the celebrity of its subject. The celebrity selfie is a continuation of the film still and advertising shot that pretends to be the work of its star. Just as no one who receives a mass email from ‘Barack Obama’ assumes that the President actually wrote it, the celebrity has not posed at random” (Mirzoeff 66). Indeed, every aspect of the photocard is a carefully constructed image crafted by the entertainment company, and it is not likely that the idols themselves had much agency in the artistic composition, pose, or styling of the selfie.

Regarding the male gaze, Laura Mulvey’s concept is a bit at odds with the nature of K-pop photocards. Mulvey argues that mainstream visual culture frequently positions women as possible objects for male desire, constructed to be looked at rather than meet the audience’s gaze. “In their traditional exhibitionist role women are simultaneously looked at and displayed, with their appearance coded for strong visual… impact so that they can be said to connote to-be-looked-at-ness” (Mulvey).

Photocards take a slightly different approach, but the idol’s direct look still perpetuates the male gaze: her image is completely staged, packaged, and commodified for mass consumption, positioning the audience as the owner of her image. “To be on display is to have the surface of one’s own skin, the hairs of one’s own body, turned into a disguise which, in that situation, can never be discarded” (Berger 54). In a certain way, shifting between being owned as a commodity and appearing to offer a certain simulated intimacy (direct eye contact) illustrates the argument that photocards slightly reconfigure the structures of visual culture described by both Mulvey and Berger.

Figure 2. Photographed photocard of Jang Wonyoung, from the album I’VE MINE (back view). Author’s personal collection.

The backside of this photocard, as pictured in Figure 2, features a very minimalist and low-contrast design. When analyzing the text itself, it only really provides the title of the album and the names of the group members. The hot pink text is difficult to read against the grey background, which in a way seems to compel the audience to flip the photocard over and see the idol, the main attraction, instead. By leaving the backside of the card largely blank, the production emphasizes the image of the idol as the sole focus of attention and desire. The audience’s engagement is meant to be with the idol’s face, pose, and overall persona, rather than any additional text or ornamentation.

Critical Reflection

To analyze this K-pop photocard through Berger’s Ways of Seeing, I adopted an approach that integrates close visual analysis with cultural contextualization, viewing the object and its history through the lens of Marxism, the male gaze, and perceived glamour.

Photocards are small, commodified, mass-produced images, yet they still operate as a small visual “microcosm” (to borrow Berger’s phrasing) and illustrate how meaning is constructed between the producer (the entertainment company), the image (the idol), and the audience (the fan). Even a collectible card like this, designed primarily for pleasure, is capable of revealing the dynamics behind social practice that Berger theorized.

I examined the formal, physical qualities of the photocard, including the idol’s pose, gaze, outfit, and composition. Then, I pivoted to the importance of contextual information. To view and understand a photocard, someone would need the appropriate context; otherwise, this small card has no true meaning other than depicting a pretty girl. A K-pop fan, however, will recognize it for more than just its outward appearance: they would want to identify the idol who is featured, the rarity of the card, and its overall market value. Additionally, they would probably want to determine if the card is worth trading one of theirs for, as is normally the process in the K-pop community. In this sense, photocards serve as visual tokens of the idol’s image, but more importantly, they are part of the cultural rituals within fandom communities. Finally, I examined the symbolic aspects of the photocard and how it mediates intimacy via the theory of the male gaze.

My experimental application towards seeing a photocard demonstrates that Berger’s foundational approach to visual culture is still incredibly relevant for contemporary forms of media. Although Ways of Seeing analyzed classic oil paintings and advertisements, applying it to a modern K-pop photocard shows that the same principles he used can be applied to digital-era pop culture. And although the female idols in K-pop are certainly nowhere near nude in their photocards or industry at large, the concept of the pervasive male gaze is still applicable: every aspect of their appearance is a carefully constructed choice meant to serve the interests of the audience.

Works Cited

Berger, John. Ways of Seeing: Based on the BBC Television Series with John Berger. London, Penguin, 1972.

Chafin, Chris. “Beam Me Up, Scotty: Fans, Conventions Keep Star Trek Alive as Much as Anything – BKMAG.” BKMAG, 22 July 2016, www.bkmag.com/2016/07/22/star-trek-fans-conventions-anniversary. Accessed 13 Sept. 2025.

“Jang Wonyoung”. I’VE MINE, Starship Entertainment, 2023. Photocard. Author’s personal collection.

Marx, Karl, and Friedrich Engels. The Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844 and the Communist Manifesto. 1844. New York, Prometheus Books, 2009.

Mirzoeff, Nicholas. How to See the World: An Introduction to Images, from Self-Portraits to Selfies, Maps to Movies, and More. New York, Basic Books, 2016.

Mulvey, Laura. Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema. London Afterall Books, 1975.