No artist in Korea has been given a penthouse apartment, paid $3.5 million in their second year, placed at the top of every brand’s wishlist, granted a dedicated makeup suite, or given a custom messaging platform — and then gone on to malign, defame, and unilaterally break their contract with their label, only to return.
That’s why many, including myself, are asking the same question: what now for Haerin and Hyein?
What does a viable pivot look like after a situation with no modern precedent? And how can the new ADOR CEO, Lee Do-kyung, reframe the IP in a way that gives the remaining members a real future rather than a symbolic afterlife?
This will be the first major challenge of her leadership.
And because branding, marketing, and business development are the worlds I operate in professionally, this is how I would approach the reconstruction of a fractured but valuable IP.
I. GROUP RECONSTRUCTION: WHY A 6-MEMBER FORMATION MAKES STRATEGIC SENSE
The instinct may be to “replace” the three who left by adding three new members.
I would go further: add four new trainees and rebuild as a six-member group.
Why?
- A six-member formation creates a clean visual break from the past.
- It sidesteps accusations of “pretending nothing happened.”
- It signals clearly: This is a new era. This is not the old New Jeans. This is a different project, rebuilt with intention.
A five-member lineup would inevitably trigger comparisons to the old symmetry, the “five bunnies,” the nostalgia-based identity that Min Hee-jin engineered. A six-member structure reduces visual nostalgia and helps audiences understand this as a fresh start — not a salvage operation.
Reconstruction only works when the new identity is strong enough to stand on its own, not as a continuation of what collapsed.
But not immediately.
Introducing new members during an active controversy is a guaranteed public backlash cycle:
- It would look opportunistic.
- It would be framed as replacement rather than rebirth.
- The new girls would be attacked before they step onstage.
- The narrative would be about the past, not the future.
A rebuild must be phased, paced, and shaped by the remaining members themselves.
II. PRECEDENTS: WHAT WE CAN LEARN — AND WHAT WE CAN’T
The closest industry parallel is FIFTY FIFTY.
They rebuilt from four members to five, released new music, and have not faced significant public backlash. But the comparison is limited:
- They were not nearly as globally visible as New Jeans.
- Their public image was not built on a deeply intertwined “sisterhood” narrative.
- Their early concept had no defining lore or iconic aesthetic that could weaponize nostalgia.
Still, the precedent is valuable for one reason:
a fractured group can be reconstructed if the relaunch is framed as expansion, not replacement.
That is the lesson to carry forward — scaled up dramatically for ADOR’s needs.
III. HAERIN AND HYEIN MUST BE A PART OF IT?
The public must not see this as ADOR “filling empty seats.”
Instead, Haerin and Hyein must look like leaders of a new creative project, guiding and forming new bonds. This is crucial because Korean audiences value sincerity and moral grounding from public figures, especially when those figures benefit from extraordinary privilege.
If they appear passive, detached, or overshadowed, the rebrand will fail. If the new members feel like placeholders, the public will reject them.
But if the remaining two visibly take ownership of:
- the group’s direction,
- its renewed identity,
- and the formation of the new team dynamic,
then the public is far more likely to accept a 6-member reconstruction.
And that leads to the most important requirement.
IV. HAERIN AND HYEIN MUST DEMONSTRATE GROWTH
Korean audiences don’t need tears, apologies, or victim narratives.
They need to see:
- humility,
- accountability,
- a willingness to learn,
and evidence that growth is taking place.
That’s why Haerin and Hyein must be visibly involved in:
- joining the new members in training,
- narrating the creative shift,
- expressing what they’ve learned,
- explaining how they want to build something new rather than recreate something old.
The bond with new members must feel real — a new sisterhood, not an imitation of the previous one.
This is also where cultural nuance matters deeply.
In Korea, visible public figures carry a moral weight because they are granted privileges most ordinary people will never experience. The higher the privilege, the higher the expectation of responsible conduct.
A respectful, humble, future-facing posture is non-negotiable if the public is expected to accept a reboot.
V. SHORT-TERM STRATEGY (6–12 MONTHS): COMING-OF-AGE AND CREATIVE MATURITY
The immediate concept should be Coming of Age as an identity reset.
It achieves several things simultaneously:
- creates distance from the “Min Hee-jin created us” stigma
- positions them as young artists forming their own identity
- allows emotional nuance without dwelling on controversy
- frames mistakes as part of growth, not a moral failing
- invites audiences to witness their transition into adulthood
This can show up in:
- narrated videos about reflection and maturity
- lyrics expressing regret, forgiveness, and hope without naming events
- intimate, grounded visuals that emphasize authenticity
- a recalibration away from curated nostalgia toward realism
They can allude to:
- getting hurt,
- hurting others,
- learning from it,
- hoping to be forgiven as they also choose forgiveness.
Not as a PR tactic — but as an honest emotional posture.
A new sisterhood forms through shared work, creative decision-making, and daily interaction—not symbolic imagery. A future version of the group needs to feel authored by the members themselves, not by a concept inherited from the past.
THE IU LESSON
In 2015, IU faced significant backlash over her song “Zeze” from the album CHAT-SHIRE, after critics argued that her reinterpretation of a child character from the Brazilian novel My Sweet Orange Tree appeared overly adult and inappropriate, especially when paired with the album’s illustrations.
The controversy grew alongside a separate dispute over unauthorized use of an illustrator’s work in promotional materials. Instead of becoming defensive or framing herself as misunderstood, IU addressed the concerns directly, acknowledged why people felt uncomfortable, took responsibility for production oversights, and resolved the plagiarism issue with compensation. Her calm, humble response — paired with consistent, thoughtful artistic choices afterward — helped shift public sentiment and eventually strengthened her reputation as one of Korea’s most trusted artists.
She didn’t cry, didn’t protest, didn’t yell, no melodrama. She owned up to it, addressed the concerns, did something about it and then became better.
VI. MID-TERM STRATEGY (2026): CREATIVE SISTERHOOD
Once the groundwork is laid, the next step is to reframe the expanded lineup as a creative sisterhood, something more mature, collective, and craft-driven.
To succeed, the six-member formation needs:
Shared authorship
- songwriting sessions
- concept meetings
- visual direction input
- choreography ideas
Visible collaboration
The public must see them building something together, not following orders.
A refreshed aesthetic
- less whimsical nostalgia
- more contemporary minimalism
- urban youth, soft modernity
- visual realism instead of mythologized girlhood
This stage is about rebuilding trust, member by member.
VII. LONG-TERM STRATEGY (2027–): CREATIVE EXPANSION BEYOND MUSIC
Once the group stabilizes, the long-term direction should be creative expansion, initiated by the members themselves.
This is how to evolve their identity into a sustainable, post-controversy brand:
- indie films
- fashion collaborations driven by member input
- art direction projects
- storytelling projects
- songwriting camps
- curated visual exhibitions
- personal creative labs
- cross-medium experimentation
Their art needs to feel authored and their public persona must communicate intention, not compliance. This is where a group once defined by someone else’s aesthetic finally becomes artists in their own right.
VIII. THREE CREATIVE CONCEPTS FOR THE RELAUNCH
There are three pegs I think would fit.
1. Urban Innocence 2.0
“Urban Innocence” in Western terms resembles A24-style understated youth, Scandinavian minimalism, and early adult coming-of-age set against real city spaces — quiet, grounded, and emotionally sincere without the nostalgia or cuteness associated with New Jeans.”
The “A24 style” refers to a set of visual and storytelling qualities seen across the films the studio distributes or produces. It’s not a single look — it’s a creative philosophy.
A24 uses real lighting, handheld cameras, awkward silences, and unpolished environments. It intentionally feels unedited, ordinary, and “caught on camera.
Min Hee-jin uses highly controlled lighting, nostalgic color grading, perfect framing, and symbolic imagery.
Everything is pre-arranged and designed to evoke a fantasy of youth.
A24 = what life looks like.
MHJ = what a stylized version of youth should look like.
2. Digital Minimalism
A clean, stripped-down visual identity. Real lighting, raw textures, grounded choreography, and no spectacle. It’s the opposite of the stylized MHJ universe — direct, honest, and focused on the members themselves. Think early FKA Twigs, A24 framing, and Céline minimalism.
- Billie Eilish’s “idontwannabeyouanymore” — white room, emotional focus, no styling overload.
- Apple’s “Shot on iPhone” campaigns — minimal, human-centered realism.
- Phoebe Philo–era Céline — stark, elegant, stripped-down visuals.
3. Youth Documentary Pop
A storytelling style that feels like a coming-of-age film. Members narrate their growth through real spaces, ambient sound, and emotional micro-moments. It’s narrative, reflective, and maturity-focused — similar to A24 youth films, or BTS’s “Life Goes On.”
A24 lets characters be messy, uncomfortable, or morally ambiguous.
You’re watching people grow in real time.
Min Hee-jin choreographs emotion.
Her youth aesthetic is constructed innocence — soft, dreamy, idealized.
- A24’s “Mid90s,” “Lady Bird,” and “The Florida Project” — intimate, raw, character-driven realism.
- Euphoria’s quieter scenes (not the glam ones) — handheld intimacy, emotional micro-moments.
- Boyhood (2014) — real-time youth narrative, understated and observational.
A RARE BRANDING CHALLENGE, BUT NOT AN IMPOSSIBLE ONE
What ADOR is facing now is the kind of turning point that only appears once in a very long time. The scale of the disruption is enormous, but moments like this also carry the possibility of redefining everything. Brands, artists, and entire industries have been transformed by events that looked unmanageable at first glance.
For Lee Do-kyung, this is the type of challenge that can shape a career and establish a legacy. And for Haerin and Hyein, this chapter will determine far more than their next comeback. If they take the work seriously, learn from the past, and build an identity that reflects who they want to become, they have room to create a story that outgrows the controversy that started all of this.
History tends to remember the people who rebuilt something meaningful after everything fell apart. If the remaining two members approach this with clarity, humility, and genuine artistic intent, their trajectory could evolve into one of those rare cases—an unexpected rebuild that future artists study not because it began smoothly, but because it demanded everything from the people involved.
It’s a difficult road, but it’s also the one with the most potential. And if they commit to it fully, this moment could become the foundation of a legacy they define for themselves.
