For a time, even if brief, she captivated a nation as South Korea’s most glamorous first lady. But behind the impeccable suits and scintilating necklaces was a dark trail of scandal and corruption. Kim Keon Hee is now in a Seoul jail cell, her opulent world shattered by the very luxury gifts that defined it

The black multi-utility vehicle pulled up to the Central District Court just after nine in the warm Seoul morning. When the door slid open automatically, Kim Keon Hee, the former first lady emerged, looking her usual natty self. She wore a black, two-button skirt-suit, under which was a favourite style of white shirt—with a straight, elongated, pointy collar—that was buttoned all the way up to her neck. She carried a small nondescript black nylon tote with a small gold monogram in front that read “HOPE”, a far cry from the more obvious luxury styles she famously favoured. By contrast, she was shod in a pair of US$865 Roger Vivier pumps. She walked casually, still carrying herself with the deportment of a first lady. She did not respond to a journalist’s question, looking somewhat stern. Once inside the court building, she bowed to the cameras—a silent, defiant gesture that was hushed, yet spoke volumes.

On Tuesday, 12 August, a nation watched as the woman who had captivated them with her style and glamour finally faced a reckoning. With the impeachment of her husband, former President Yoon Suk Yeol, a full-length political shield had been removed. The investigation, which opened in March, after the National Assembly passed a bill for a permanent special prosecutor to investigate numerous cases against her. The special prosecutor office finally closed in on a simple, yet devastating, reality: the First Lady’s deep love for luxury was not just an influencer-style fashion statement—it was the damning evidence of a life surreptitiously built on fraud and illicit transactions. Her arrest, following the impeachment and removal of her husband, became a historic first for the history of South Korea: Both a former president and first lady are currently sitting in jail.

Her arrest, following the impeachment and removal of her husband, became a historic first for South Korea: Both a former president and first lady are currently sitting in jail

How a fashionista married to the president could go from Dior to detention cell is a story of ambition that promised power, but delivered public humiliation; of a glamorous first lady whose deliberately curated image of near primness was barely a thin veil for corruption; and of a political dynasty brought to its knees not by its enemies, but by its own hubris. Among the most incriminating exhibits were pieces that she had worn very publicly, especially one Van Cleef & Arpels pendant, seen prominently when she attended a NATO summit in 2022 with her husband in Madrid, but suspiciously absent from official asset disclosures. Even the infamous Dior handbag, discreetly filmed as it changed hands in what her lawyers would dismiss as a mere “political manoeuvre”, is just a supporting cast, not the star.

While the Dior bag that she accepted from a Korean-American pastor, who filmed the entire dealing, could be dismissed as a “set-up”, the Van Cleef & Arpels necklace was offered to her as gratitude from a construction company seeking favors for a relative, according to Korean media. For prosecutors, the case was straightforward, a tangible quid pro quo, delineated in diamonds. In fact, the investigators found quite a haul, and so high-end it was, it could have had its own concierge: a Chanel bag, a Graff necklace and a Vacheron Constantin watch. The material finds were but highlights in a litany of charges, including accusations of manipulating stock prices for Deutsch Motors, a luxury car dealership, and using illicit political funds to sway candidate nominations. The very symbols of her carefully cultivated image now served as cold, hard facts in an indictment laying bare the alleged reality beneath the veneer.

Kim Keon Hee, wearing the pendant in question. Photo: Presidential Photography Group

But it is the Van Cleef & Arpels necklace—made of 18K white gold with diamonds and cost 60 million won (about S$55,445; a piece in yellow gold is currently listed on the brand’s website for S$150,000)—that has gripped the nation. Its provenance went from borrowed to bought to bribe. According to local reporting, when the necklace became the gravitational pull of the investigation, the president’s office claimed that Ms Kim had “borrowed [it] from an acquaintance”. Why a mere acquaintance would lend anyone expensive jewellery, they did not say. Later, she decided to pivot her version of how she came to adorning herself with the pendant. She claimed in a written statement to prosecutors that the jewellery was a dupe that she had purchased in Hong Kong about 15 years prior for her mother. She borrowed it for the trip to Madrid. But, with tangible evidence, prosecutors quickly unraveled how fictitious her claims were, revealing that the Snowflake design she wore had not even been released until 2015. The entire self-serving narrative, transparently a lie, became the perfect microcosm of the allegations against her.

The Special Counsel’s investigation revealed a version of the pendant during a raid, but forensic analysis confirmed that it was an imitation of a quality described as “high”. Further digging unearthed the genuine article: There were, in fact, two necklaces! A confession and testimony was secured from the chairman of Seohee Construction, Lee Bong-kwan, who admitted to giving Ms Kim the real pendant with the subtext of seeking a political favor: to secure a government position for his son-in-law, who did become the chief of staff to the Prime Minister. He claimed that after the scandal broke, Ms Kim returned the genuine pendant to him and he had been storing it, before handing it over to the prosecutors. Her defence came undone as quickly as a bad setting of a precious stone. Citing the possibility of her destroying evidence, the prosecutors moved swiftly, requesting her immediate arrest.

When the necklace became the gravitational pull of the investigation, the president’s office claimed that Ms Kim had “borrowed [it] from an acquaintance”. Why a mere acquaintance would lend anyone expensive jewellery, they did not say

Long before Kim Keon Hee was the impeccably dressed spouse of South Korea’s most powerful man, she was known as Kim Myeong-sin, who was crafting a different kind of image, but no less engaging. Her early career as an art exhibition organizer (not gallerist, as some reports mistook), culminating in her company Covana Contents, hinted that she was not afraid of a little showmanship and had a keen eye for what captivates an audience. Yet, even in those early days, shadows of alleged deception began to lengthen. There were whispers, then full-blown accusations, of resume falsification and academic plagiarism: claims that would later result in her university degrees revoked. These weren’t minor embellishments; they were revisions of her personal history, a precursor, perhaps, to the grander illusions she would allegedly weave as she commanded the political stage.

The pattern seemed set: a desire to appear more, to achieve more, by whatever means necessary, even if unlawful; a trajectory that now, in a jail cell, finds its inevitable conclusion. All the artifice and ambition that’s been her brand even before she became the first lady collapsed into a moment of sobering clarity. The Dior handbag, the glittering pendant, the snazzy suits—once symbols of a new era of elegance—are now just a supporting cast in a story of uncontrollable greed and rapid downfall. The woman who once sought to command the political arena with her style now served as reminder that substance matters a lot more. For a nation that once celebrated the glamorous power couple, the thought of both of them in prison, although for different misdeeds, is a true cautionary tale of how the vanity of power can ultimately consume itself.

Illustration: Just So