HANG MIOKU
In Asia, beauty is everywhere.
It permeates conversations, fills shopping districts, dominates advertising billboards, and shapes everyday life. It is nearly impossible to go through a single day without being surrounded by messages about beauty. Sometimes inspiring, sometimes suffocating, physical appearance occupies a central place in South Korean society, particularly among young women, many of whom feel immense pressure to conform to ever evolving beauty standards. It is no coincidence that the “Land of the Morning Calm” has earned a reputation as Asia’s cosmetic surgery capital.
The story of HANG MIOKU is one of the most tragic examples of where that pursuit can lead. A former singer, and model with a promising future ahead of her, she became consumed by an addiction to cosmetic procedures. The question is: at what cost?
Before delving into her story, it is important to understand a mental health condition known as body dysmorphic disorder. Recognized as a psychiatric disorder, dysmorphic disorder is characterized by an “overwhelming preoccupation with one or more perceived flaws in a person’s appearance“, flaws that are often minor or even imperceptible to others. Those affected can become consumed by these perceived imperfections, going to great lengths to conceal, alter, or eliminate them. From an early age, HANG MIOKU began exhibiting signs consistent with body dysmorphic disorder. At the age of 28, she underwent her first cosmetic procedures, focusing primarily on her face. What initially seemed like a desire to enhance her appearance would eventually spiral into a devastating obsession.
Born on July 8, 1963, into a modest family, Hang Mioku dreamed from an early age of becoming a singer so she could help support her parents financially. In the 1980s, she moved to Japan, where she found work as a cabaret singer and quickly gained attention for her striking beauty. She eventually earned the nickname “Mirror Princess,” a reference to the countless hours she spent in front of the mirror, determined to ensure she always looked flawless. As time passed, however, she became increasingly fixated on her chin, convinced that it was too square and masculine for a woman. It was a seemingly small insecurity, but one that would ultimately become the seed of a far deeper struggle.
« Whenever I looked at my colleagues, I couldn’t help thinking they were prettier than I was. » – MIOKU
The injections began. A wrinkle appeared on her forehead? Another injection. Fine lines at the corners of her eyes? Another injection. Procedure after procedure, it became clear that MIOKU had developed an addiction by the time she reached her thirties. As her condition deteriorated, her head gradually became disproportionate to the rest of her body. Yet she could not stop. MIOKU suffered from schizophrenia. Every day, she heard voices telling her how ugly she was and urging her to keep getting more injections, again and again. Eventually, she lost her job. The beauty that had once earned her admiration disappeared behind a face so swollen that she could no longer appear before her audience.
As cosmetic procedures became increasingly expensive, MIOKU began turning to unqualified practitioners for her injections. Her addiction only intensified, and before long she was undergoing new procedures every month. Eventually, she decided to return to South Korea to live with her parents, where she regained a measure of public attention. However, after spending ten years in Japan and undergoing countless injections, her appearance had changed so dramatically that her own family struggled to recognize her when they were reunited.
Upon her return, MIOKU was not welcomed in the way she had hoped. Her family showed little sympathy for her condition, as mental health issues were poorly understood and often stigmatized in South Korea at the time. Rather than recognizing her as a young woman struggling with serious psychiatric disorders, her relatives viewed her behavior as a matter of vanity, ego, and low self-esteem. In 1998, believing that another cosmetic procedure might finally free her from her obsession, her family paid for yet another surgery. Instead of helping, the operation only worsened her condition. MIOKU quickly resumed her injections and failed to attend the appointments with the psychologist her parents had arranged and financed in an effort to support her recovery.
As the world welcomed the dawn of the 21st century, MIOKU found herself completely isolated. Living alone and unemployed, she could no longer afford the injections that temporarily quieted the voices in her head. Desperate, she turned to the black market, but even there, the supply eventually ran out. Desperate and gravely ill, she made a decision that would change the course of her life forever.
Her hand trembled, yet she was convinced she was doing the right thing. MIOKU began injecting paraffin oil* into her face, followed by cooking oil. When even those supplies ran out, she turned to silicone, and eventually to cement…
Her face doubled in size, then tripled, and eventually quadrupled. Nothing could stop it anymore. Before long, even her neck began to swell, gradually compressing her airways and putting her life at risk. As the cement hardened, the former beauty queen was left permanently disfigured. She soon became known throughout her neighborhood as “The Fan Lady,” a nickname inspired by the enormous size of her head, which locals compared to an electric fan. In 2004, South Korean broadcaster SBS learned of her story after receiving a call from one of her neighbors. The network featured her case in a television program that continued until 2006, raising funds to pay for the reconstructive surgeries she desperately needed. Although the original broadcasts are no longer officially available online, excerpts have been preserved in the SBS archives. A recently uploaded copy of the program can also be found on YouTube:
By that time, MIOKU had fallen into extreme financial hardship. She had been living without electricity for months, and the documentary highlighted the stark emptiness of her home, with barely any furniture left. Her schizophrenia was no longer affecting only her perception of her appearance. The voices she heard also compelled her to throw away her belongings. Exhausted by the relentless hallucinations, she obeyed. As her body continued to swell, her home grew increasingly empty, reflecting the devastating grip her illness had on every aspect of her life. Concerned by her condition, the production team arranged for her to be examined by a doctor, who delivered a deeply alarming assessment of her health.
« If her neck continues to swell, she will have difficulty breathing She could suffocate to death– JANG CHONGHYUN (doctor)
The doctor tried to make her understand just how fortunate she was to still be alive. Comparing the thickness of the tissue covering the skull of an average person with MIOKU‘s, the difference was staggering. While most people have approximately 5 millimeters of skin and soft tissue, MIOKU‘s measured nearly 3 centimeters. He also explained that it was nothing short of a miracle that she had not lost her eyesight as a result of the injections. By then, her head had swollen to nearly three times the size of an average face. The excess tissue hanging from her neck caused her constant pain, and during the documentary she revealed that the only companion she had left was her dog. Having become estranged from her family because of her addiction and its devastating consequences, she was facing her ordeal almost entirely alone.
When the documentary aired, it became one of the most-watched television programs of the year in South Korea. Viewers were deeply moved by MIOKU‘s story, and donations totaling 27 million won (roughly €15,000 in today’s value) were raised to fund her reconstructive treatment. Thanks to this public support, MIOKU underwent more than a dozen reconstructive surgeries aimed at removing the damaged tissue and reducing the size of her head. In total, surgeons removed over four kilograms of diseased tissue. Although the operations could never restore her original appearance, which had been permanently altered, they significantly improved her quality of life. She was later granted a Level 2 disability certificate due to the lasting effects of her condition. The extensive damage left her with speech difficulties, and because surgeons had been forced to operate on her eyelids, she was required to use lubricating eye drops every day to keep her eyes properly hydrated.
The SBS documentary also helped reunite MIOKU with her mother. For the first time in several years, her mother visited her in the hospital, encouraging her not to give up on her surgeries and to continue persevering with her treatment. Tragically, her mother passed away during the filming of the documentary. Determined to honor her mother’s final wishes, MIOKU found the strength to carry on with her recovery. To celebrate 33 months of fifteen reconstructive surgeries,she was invited back onto the stage to sing before an audience of 500 people, hoping to remind her that, despite everything she had endured, there’s still positivity in life and one must go one.
Several years later, a follow-up SBS documentary revisited MIOKU‘s story. Viewers discovered a far more peaceful woman, one who had finally come to terms with herself. She had managed to leave cosmetic surgery and injections behind and was now surrounded by a close circle of friends. Still affectionately known as “The Fan Lady,” she had found a place within her community, although finding employment remained extremely difficult because of her appearance. However, MIOKU passed away in December 2018 at the age of 55, under circumstances that were never publicly disclosed. It was also revealed that HANG MIOKU was not her real name. It had been a pseudonym chosen to protect her privacy. Her real name was HAN HYEGYEONG.
MIOKU‘s story left a profound mark on South Korea and eventually attracted international media attention. Her case has since become one of the most widely cited examples of the devastating consequences of an addiction to cosmetic procedures, particularly when they are carried out outside a regulated medical setting. Had you ever heard of HANG MIOKU‘s story before? What are your thoughts on the darker side of cosmetic surgery and the pressures surrounding beauty standards? Let us know in the comments below !
* Paraffin oil is a highly refined mineral oil derived from petroleum. It is commonly used in products such as laxatives, lubricants, ointments, and skin creams. It should never be injected into the body, as it is not absorbed by human tissue.
Journalist: Pillet Anaïs
Translator: Pillet Anaïs
Sources: KSTATION TV, SBS, in hyperlinks
