Zero Branding is a studio that builds from brand strategy into design, video, and content marketing. F&B and exhibitions share an important foundation: both are experienced through offline, physical space, and both respond quickly to cultural trends.

The industries are different, but the work is similar at its core. The more clearly we bring a concept and story into the space, the more satisfying the customer experience becomes, and that often leads to stronger brand loyalty. That shared appeal is why our studio naturally came to focus on these two offline fields.

I wanted everyone on the team, myself included, to spend our working days in a more beautiful place. Work can be intense, and I hoped the space itself could offer a small sense of comfort. We looked for somewhere with greenery and warm sunlight, and found our current office overlooking Yangjaecheon Stream. For about a year, we also operated it as a naturally lit rental photo studio.

These days, as outside projects have grown, we are focusing more fully on our core branding work. Still, this cozy office remains a welcome breath of fresh air during demanding days. It works as a comfortable meeting place for clients and as a multi-purpose studio where we film YouTube content.

The first thing we do is listen closely to the client’s story. The public’s perspective matters, of course, but above all, the space has to be one the owner genuinely likes and feels at ease in.

We ask questions like, “What kind of guests would you like to welcome?” “What is your happiest memory of a place?” and “What is your greatest asset as an operator?” From there, we draw out key words and connect them with the interests and trends people are drawn to. A lot of our thinking goes into finding the right balance between a strong, distinctive brand character and a sense of familiarity that feels easy to enter.

After the facade, finishing materials are often what communicate the most information and mood when someone first enters a space. That is why we spend so much time considering them during the planning stage.

When choosing materials, we look carefully at the size of the room, ceiling height, and the sequence of movement through the space. In F&B, guests stay for at least 30 minutes and sometimes two or three hours, so the room cannot feel tiring. We try to choose materials that remain comfortable for the eyes and mind, while quietly carrying the brand’s distinct personality.

Our client had spent more than ten years building experience in restaurants and was now, as a young owner in his thirties, opening a place of his own for the first time. He was confident in the food and service, and his brief was clear: he wanted guests to enjoy the space in a relaxed, playful atmosphere.

The site was a small, worn-in 50-square-meter eatery where the owner had been a regular for years. We decided to preserve as much of its age and feeling as possible, because no artificial design can imitate the traces left by time. But once demolition began, the walls were in much worse condition than expected. Patterned wallpaper became the unexpected key: it could hide the flaws while amplifying the warmth and wit of an old neighborhood restaurant.

To be honest, I was skeptical even as I searched for “retro wallpaper.” Most products on the market felt either heavily ornate or strongly graphic, so I wondered whether we could find a pattern with the right warmth for the old Korean eatery we were imagining. Then I came across a distinctly Korean vintage pattern, and it caught my eye.

It turned out to be restored wallpaper, recreated from historical designs, and I became curious enough to look through the entire collection. It felt very different from today’s intentionally retro graphics. The lyrical lines and analog character of a design that had actually existed in the past carried a much stronger personality and a very particular aura.

Once the wallpaper was installed, the cold, aging 50-square-meter shop instantly became a cozy hideaway straight out of a friendly Korean side street of the 1980s or 90s.

When the owner saw the finished space, he was delighted. He said, “The relaxed, playful mood I had been picturing for an old neighborhood eatery came to life exactly as I hoped.”

Retro has actually been a steady current in F&B for more than a decade. I have often thought, “This trend is lasting much longer than expected.” At this point, I see it as more than a short-lived trend. It has become a lasting cultural current, almost a genre of its own.

A place where people eat and gather should feel comfortable and familiar at its core. A space that is dazzling, cool, and overly polished may look impressive at first, but it can feel tense for everyday visits. By contrast, retro spaces that feel lived-in and evoke familiar feelings tend to put people at ease. As long as people keep looking to spaces for emotional comfort in a demanding world, I think this analog sensibility will continue in changing forms.

After the wallpaper went up, neighboring shop owners would pass by and say things like, “The new wallpaper looks nice! But why did you choose something that feels like the kitchen of a grandmother’s house from childhood?” The owner would smile and answer them every time.

Many of us carry a quiet nostalgia for the warm meals a grandmother or mother once set before us. Restored old wallpaper can call up that warmth and those memories without any long explanation. In a time when old-school Korean eateries are loved for their feeling as much as their food, it becomes one of the clearest and kindest answers a space can give its guests.

There is a warmth and softness in paper as a material that paint or polished tile can never quite imitate. When restored patterns from the 1970s through 90s are added to that tactile quality, the space gains a clear story that can take people back to a particular time almost instantly.

What is interesting is that restored wallpaper is not limited to a purely folk or Korean visual language. If you look closely, a Korean feel from that period sits alongside Western vintage influences and other East Asian graphic elements in a curious way. Because the range of possible variations is wider than it first appears, I would love to explore it creatively again in a future project, in a different mood.