Some holidays are simply dates marked on a calendar. Others live somewhere much deeper — in the crisp autumn air, in familiar scents, and in the quiet traditions that stay with us long after childhood has passed.
For me, Chuseok has always been one of those holidays.
Celebrated this year from September 24 to 26, Chuseok is our time of harvest, often called the Korean Thanksgiving. Alongside Seollal, the Lunar New Year, it is the most sacred time of the year in Korea. It is a time when the whole country seems to pause, exhale, and return home. It is a season of deep gratitude — for the autumn harvest, for the ancestors who paved our way, and for the family sitting around the table sharing beautiful, half-moon-shaped songpyeon rice cakes.
But when I think about Chuseok, my mind doesn't immediately go to the history books or even the feasts.
My mind goes to my grandmother.
If I close my eyes, I am a little girl again, back in the bustling alleyways of the local market, my small hand tucked safely inside hers. Around Chuseok, the market completely transformed. It was electric — alive with a chaotic, colorful magic. The air was thick with the scent of toasted sesame oil, sweet rice, and eager anticipation. Families were rushing past, gathering the perfect ingredients and gifts for the days ahead.
At that age, I didn't fully grasp the profound weight of ancestral gratitude. All I knew was that something incredibly special was happening, and I was experiencing it right beside the person I loved most.
And then, there were the gifts. Specifically, Chuseokbim (추석빔). She would bring me, my siblings, and cousins to the local market to buy us new clothes, shoes, and socks. Grandma was happy and proud to bring us to the shops, and the shop owners were also happy to see us growing every year. It was like an annual tradition to meet them, and they would also ask, "You grew a lot!" "How are you doing in school?" "Happy Chuseok!" Not to forget, we sometimes got extra gifts from them — mostly extra socks.
In Korea, giving a practical gift like a pair of socks for the holidays isn't just a formality — it is a quiet, unspoken language of care. As a child, waking up to a brand new pair of shoes and socks was inextricably tied to the magic of Chuseok. I still remember my Chuseok Mary Janes with glitter on them. They fit the season perfectly; we often arrived in our summer sandals and came home with new shoes and socks. It sounds like such a small, mundane thing today. But perhaps that is exactly why it remains so beautifully etched in my heart.
Receiving those socks wasn't about the fabric; it was about the ritual. It was the feeling of being looked after. It was a family tradition that said: I want you to be warm. I want you to step into the new season with comfort and a fresh start. Looking back, those little gifts carried a weight of love that far exceeded their material value.
That memory is exactly why socks mean something entirely different to me today.
When we pour our hearts into Sole of Seoul — obsessing over our spectrum of colors, the finest combed cotton, and that signature inside-out comfort — we are chasing that exact feeling. Beneath the aesthetics and the design is a deeply personal truth: even the smallest, most everyday object has the power to carry a memory, to express affection, and to make someone feel deeply comforted.
That is what Chuseok reminds me of.
Traditions don't have to be grand or loud to endure. Sometimes, they are just a walk through a crowded market with your grandmother. The familiar smells of autumn. The laughter around a low wooden table. Or the simple, grounding comfort of a fresh pair of socks waiting for you.
Wherever you are in the world, and however you celebrate the changing of the seasons, I hope this time brings you a moment to reflect on the people, the memories, and the quiet little things you're grateful for.
And perhaps, it is the perfect moment to start a small tradition of your own.
If Chuseok has put you in the mood to share a little warmth, color, or a thoughtful gesture, take a look at our curated Daily Canvas bundles at Sole of Seoul. Whether you are wrapping them for someone you love, or gifting a moment of self-care to yourself — I hope they become a part of a beautiful memory for you, too.