The Joy of Repairing — Plastic Farm

After hearing the story of Kim Jeonga, founder of Plastic Farm in Yeonhui-dong, Seoul, one thing becomes clear: a life of mending and repairing is truly the beginning—and the surest path—of sustainable living.

Interviewer Parc Jinmyoung
Interviewee Kim Jeonga (Founder, Plastic Farm)

In 2020, the French government enacted the ‘Anti-Waste Law’ to reduce plastic, food, and electronic waste and boost recycling rates. Since 2022, sellers have been prohibited from arbitrarily discarding unsold inventory of any product except food, and stricter policies—such as a ban on wrapping fruits and vegetables in plastic—have been enforced. This past October, the government announced it would subsidize up to 25 euros (about ₩35,000) for each garment repair. Within France, this policy is expected to reduce fast-fashion consumption while revitalizing the long-stagnant clothing repair industry.
Meanwhile, in Korea, there isn’t even accurate data on how much clothing is produced and discarded each year. According to the Ministry of Environment, textile waste generated in 2020 (the most recent statistics available) amounted to approximately 82,423 tons. While eco-friendly materials are great, I went looking for a brand that actively repurposes already-produced goods—unsold inventory, waste materials, and the like—and that’s how I found Plastic Farm. This lifestyle and fashion brand, which moves fluidly between everyday life and nature, had just launched its ‘CRV (Collect/Reuse, Remake, Restore/Vintage)’ project, remaking vintage items using upcycled materials.

Could you briefly introduce Plastic Farm?
Plastic Farm is a fashion and lifestyle brand for people who seek a life in harmony with nature. We make fabric products with natural colors and textures that can be worn both in daily life and outdoors. Recently, to expand our use of sustainable materials, we launched the ‘CRV (Collect/Reuse, Remake, Restore/Vintage)’ line, which upcycles vintage items. As the name suggests, we use recycled materials to reinterpret items from the past with contemporary design. I think it’s a great opportunity to demonstrate the possibilities of sustainable fashion.

What’s the meaning behind the name Plastic Farm?
It carries several layers of meaning. When ‘plastic’ is used in the sense of ‘plastic arts’ or ‘sculptural,’ it can mean ‘a place that produces sculpturally beautiful products.’ It can also be interpreted more literally, as a place that makes products using plastic waste materials. We intended the word ‘farm’ to evoke harmony with nature—it’s also a word that contrasts with the artificial connotations of plastic. In a way, the name reflects our thinking about how nature and the artificial can coexist and blend together.

What led you to start CRV?
After years of making clothes and bags, clothing samples and fabric scraps had piled up one by one. I felt increasingly pressured by the shrinking space and growing clutter. Around the same time, we were producing fabric recycled from plastic bottles, and during the printing process we ended up with more defective pieces than good ones. It felt so ironic—we were making clothes in a way meant to reduce environmental impact, yet generating even more waste in the process. I felt guilty about it, too.
To clear my head, I started fixing up a corroded motorcycle and restoring antique lamps as a hobby, and that’s when the idea struck me: why not apply this to our brand? My heart started racing again. Over the years of producing clothes and bags, we’d done countless rounds of sampling, and so often, by the time a season passed, we never even got to produce the sampled items. That’s when I flipped my thinking: what if every product could be a sample and a limited edition at once? It might even create something more valuable.

What’s the biggest appeal of remade clothing?
Every piece is truly ‘one and only.’ Items may be similar, but no two can ever be exactly alike, so each one becomes a piece made for a single person. From a maker’s perspective, it’s appealing because there’s room to freely experiment with all sorts of ideas. The materials are limited and the production is slow, but I have faith that each piece will find the right owner. I think it’s a fun process for both the maker and the wearer.

What part of the process do you enjoy most?
The CRV process involves collecting, cleaning, disassembling, and assembling. I like the assembling part the most—it’s the highlight of remaking. The other steps require a lot of patience, so they can feel a bit tedious.

It must have its share of challenges, too.
Since vintage clothing and materials are our main raw materials, sourcing them is a job in itself. I tend to be picky about the colors I use, and I have to carefully assess reusability and durability, so selecting fabric takes a lot of time. Once the CRV line is more established, I think it would be great to collaborate with fashion brands that have surplus inventory—it could also help make recycled products more approachable to people who are unfamiliar with them. This field also requires a lot of information, and studying it all on my own can be overwhelming at times. I’d like to join communities where I can connect with artists exploring upcycling and brands committed to sustainability.

What are you most interested in these days?
I’m completely absorbed in freediving. After spending so much time just floating on the surface, diving deep into the sea feels like discovering a much bigger world. Plus, freediving is a sport you can enjoy without any equipment, so it has less impact on the environment. Exploring underwater, I’m constantly reminded of how magnificent nature is, and I naturally feel grateful toward it. When doing outdoor activities, I think it’s essential to see nature not as something to conquer, but to respect and protect the ecosystem as it is. I’m still a beginner, so there’s a limit to how deep I can go, but I’d like to keep learning, step by step.

Where was your most recent trip?
I visited Bali, Indonesia this past May. I especially loved the area called Ubud. I had a wonderful time there, thanks to the abundant sunshine, rain, wind, everything the land produces, and the people who find happiness in even the smallest things. I was struck by the buildings made of natural materials and interiors designed with nature and people in mind, rather than mere convenience. I also saw a lot of local handicrafts and artwork, and the locals’ pride in their culture and art, along with their determination to share Bali’s natural beauty, was truly inspiring to me.

Is there a place you’d like to visit related to upcycling?
I’d love to take a trip to collect materials I’m currently using a lot. In the U.S., there are vintage warehouses called ‘Junk Drawer’ that sort and sell a wide variety of unusual upcycling materials. I’d like to visit in person, see everything with my own eyes, and buy buttons, chains, pendants, beads, and more. I’m also curious whether a similar system could work in Korea.

Isn’t there something like that in Korea already?
There is, actually. The Upcycling Plaza run by the city of Seoul has a section called the ‘Material Bank,’ but I’ve always found it a bit lacking whenever I use it. For one, the categories and quantities of materials are very limited. I’d like to experience the Junk Drawer system in the U.S. firsthand and think about how something similar could be built to fit Korea’s circumstances.

Share your own tips for sustainable travel.
I love camping. I try to wash and portion out ingredients at home before bringing them along, since buying food locally often means extra packaging waste. I also bring tumblers and water bottles of various sizes to use for everything.
When I travel, I like eating at local restaurants. I think choosing places that use local ingredients helps reduce the carbon footprint from transporting food and supports the local community.

What message do you want Plastic Farm to convey?
I want Plastic Farm CRV to survive in this market through appealing design rather than relying on the advantage of being eco-friendly. I firmly believe that what I choose or create—things that feel familiar rather than shiny and new, materials that blend harmoniously, natural colors—will remain beautiful from the past into the future. I want to work hard to effectively convey to people the value of vintage as I see it.

What are your future plans and goals?
I feel like a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to fully do the work I’m doing now. I’ll need to promote it diligently to keep it sustainable. Someday, I’d also like to run a self-repair shop—an offline space where customers can reform and upcycle items themselves using upcycled materials prepared with staff assistance. I want to help people experience the joy of fixing things themselves in their own style, rather than just searching for something new. Wouldn’t that make it a space—like a hair salon—that the online market simply can’t replace?