LE SSERAFIM’s single “SPAGHETTI (feat. j-hope of BTS)” debuted at No. 50 on the “Billboard” Hot 100 chart for the week of November 8—their best position yet, following “EASY” at No. 99 last March and “CRAZY” at No. 76 that September. “SPAGHETTI” also landed the group in the Global 200 Top 10 for the first time, hitting No. 6. The single broke into the Top 5 on the Global Excl. US chart, reaching No. 3. There’s never been as many K-pop songs on the Hot 100 as this year thanks to the success of “KPop Demon Hunters” and the solo careers of the BLACKPINK and BTS members, among other factors. But emerging K-pop artists have made a sizable impact too, with incredible achievements from the likes of LE SSERAFIM, KATSEYE, and Stray Kids. LE SSERAFIM, in particular, made it to where they are today thanks to their consistent push to make inroads into the United States, and have left listeners eager for more from the girl group.

One pillar of their approach can be traced back to the effort to promote within subcultures that began with their “Perfect Night” campaign in the fall of 2023. The group’s crossovers with the game “Overwatch 2,” collaborations with numerous streamers, and partnership with the NBA captured interest beyond diehard K-pop fans and reached out to more casual listeners as well. Then, in February 2024, the girls put their mark on the Hot 100 for the very first time when “EASY” debuted at No. 99 on the chart.

Another piece of the strategy pie can be seen in both “CRAZY” and “SPAGHETTI (feat. j-hope of BTS),” which underscore the thought they’ve put into gaining the admiration of somewhat niche but still culturally significant communities. The choreography for “CRAZY,” for instance, incorporates voguing. Considering K-pop’s inherently eclectic nature, that in itself isn’t much of a surprise, but what sets the song apart is its acknowledgment of and respect for the Ballroom scene, where the dance style originates.

So what makes this so remarkable? To understand that, we need to talk about Ballroom culture. Ballroom is an underground subculture that has its roots in the Black and Latina/Latino LGBTQ+ communities of 1970s and ’80s New York. Members of those minorities lived in an environment that was particularly cruel to them at the time, enduring the coupled effects of oppression for their sexual orientation, gender identity, and race. Many of them, abandoned by their families and left without a place to call home, organized houses with their new chosen families. The young people living under the care of such houses were known as their children and used their house name as their new last name. Balls became safe spaces where everyone was free to express their identities—events that were part party, part parade, and part interfamily competition. People would represent their houses in battle in categories like dance, appearance, fashion, and more.

Voguing is a physical manifestation of this culture. The dance—as might be guessed from the name—drew inspiration from photoshoot poses in luxury fashion magazines and is characterized by sharp, angular movements, intricate hand gestures, and dramatic floorwork. The movements were full of yearning but overflowing with confidence, born out of being barred from other opportunities to show off areas they knew they could shine in. It’s no coincidence that many house names are borrowed from fashion brands, which themselves are often referred to as fashion houses. All of this makes voguing more than simply a visual flourish or just another style of dance. To use it merely for its aesthetic appeal would deprive it of its meaning and diminish its history.

The music video for “CRAZY” features members of the House of Juicy Couture, one of the most prominent houses in all Ball culture. All of them were credited as dancers or creative directors. The song’s “Vogue Remix” is even better suited for voguing and features Ballroom icon, dancer, choreographer, and MC Dashaun Wesley. Starting in 2020, Wesley hosted all three seasons of the HBO Max voguing reality competition show “Legendary,” the final season of which the House of Juicy Couture won.

For a Korean group like LE SSERAFIM, it’s hard to incorporate genres, regions, identities, and other aspects of the US and its pop culture as jumping-off points, but rather than appropriating Ballroom culture and voguing, they have engaged in a deep, meaningfully authentic way. It’s a perfect alliance of values—one that’s rooted in the history of Ballroom and links to the universal idea of self-expression that is, to borrow a key LE SSERAFIM word, “FEARLESS.” The result is something rarely seen in K-pop—less focus on the group mastering a particular dance style through direct imitation and more on thoughtfully integrating aspects of it in a way that shows support and an understanding of the origins and significance of voguing.

LE SSERAFIM’s performance at the 2024 SBS Gayo Daejeon awards show, titled “Category is LE SSERAFIM,” took their vision even further. There was far more going on here than the group merely saying they defy categorization. That night, LE SSERAFIM vogued to the “Vogue Remix” of “CRAZY,” essentially transforming the biggest event in K-pop into a ball where one of the categories was LE SSERAFIM—with Dashaun Wesley’s voice booming across the stage.

“SPAGHETTI (feat. j-hope of BTS)” proves just how heavily LE SSERAFIM thought about the values they explored through “CRAZY” and how determined they are to carry that legacy forward. The song compares LE SSERAFIM’s undeniable presence to spaghetti “stuck between your teeth.” As the group explained in an interview, the song originated from the idea of how “a food you don’t even really like can still get stuck in your head,” drawing a parallel to how “when people don’t enjoy what you do, they still have a lot to say.”

It’s here that LE SSERAFIM’s ongoing message and their solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community overlap and resonate out together. When they sing, “Just give up, you know you will / Eat it up,” it’s easy to interpret this as reflecting the group overcoming the backlash following their show at Coachella in 2024 and their hard-earned reversal with their appearance on “America’s Got Talent” and the triumph of their “EASY CRAZY HOT” tour. Just like how the group sings, “How I like it’s how I’m saucin’ / And now the world’s gone mad,” we can celebrate how drag has become part of the mainstream even in Korea. The message of solidarity is far from subtle, with the “SPAGHETTI” music video prominently featuring well-known drag queens NANA Youngrong Kim, KYAM, and RingRing. Consistency is authenticity, and that authenticity is respect for the cultural soils in which some of the key aspects of LE SSERAFIM’s music are rooted. The reason fans abroad have reacted so positively and with such nuance to the queer culture in the group’s videos is because they, too, share that same respect and appreciation.

And how about the music itself? “SPAGHETTI” is anything but a by-the-numbers pop song that plays it safe. The inscrutable production might come across as slapdash at first, but it really feels more like a sonic reflection of the song’s subject matter. The thick synths, cowbell-driven intro, and featured artist j-hope’s aggressive rapping expand on the club-oriented sound explored in tracks like “Eve, Psyche & The Bluebeard’s wife” and “CRAZY.” After a string of massive hits this year including “LV Bag (feat. j-hope of BTS & Pharrell Williams),” “Sweet Dreams,” “MONA LISA,” and “Killin’ It Girl,” j-hope’s involvement lends weight to the artistic choice to fill “SPAGHETTI” and its music video with the intended chaos. It’s a real seal of approval from a highly respected artist.

In the three years since their debut—and just two years of promoting directly in the US—LE SSERAFIM has built up a solid foundation of support. By building mass appeal through collaborations related to gaming, professional sports, and major TV shows, all of which led up to a wildly successful tour, the group clearly put themselves into a positive feedback loop of more favorable public standing and bigger and better concerts. The connections they form with subcultures that share their core values lend authenticity to LE SSERAFIM’s messages and frame them not as an exotic K-pop girl group from Korea but as an international group with ties to American culture. When discussing K-pop’s achievements, you can make the argument that the most Korean parts of it are the most global—a viewpoint that aligns with the perspective that quality is universal—but that doesn’t mean better linguistic and cultural communication isn’t still necessary. The old, narrow belief that K-pop’s global ventures have to stick to the Korean language in order to be authentic has evolved significantly in recent years—and LE SSERAFIM has made it all this way to stand at the forefront of the movement, fearlessly braving the headwinds as they come.