She then joined fellow AOA members, all wearing the same outfit, as they danced alongside drag queens in high heels. The band’s image and Jimin’s assertive message were a marked departure for AOA, who had been presented as a sexy girl group since the video for their first hit, Miniskirt, focused on their slender legs in tight miniskirts in 2014. At the time, they even unzipped their miniskirts on stage as part of their dance routines.

Queendom inadvertently became a reflection of the country’s vibrant feminist movement. And the six established K-pop acts involved in the show caused a stir with charismatic performances that redefined their identities through an earnest display of sisterhood.

“I thought exclusive comeback shows were only a privilege for popular male idols,” said Seolhyun from AOA, one of the more experienced groups in the competition. But alongside the chance of a comeback came rules that were unambiguously designed to promote rivalry – if not outright conflict – between the contenders.

For instance, at the end of each round, the groups were asked to choose a team that was “one step above” and another that was “one step below” themselves. Considering the strict hierarchy that exists among K-pop artists, defined by the year they made their debut, the acts faced a daunting task in acting as the show’s judges – there was a 10-year gap between the youngest act (G)I-DLE (who made their debut in 2018) and Park Bom (who debuted in 2009 as part of a groundbreaking girl group, 2NE1).

The votes were to be revealed while all acts were present, and if a group ranked lowest in two rounds of the show, they would be eliminated from the competition.

The stars’ dignity and pride as K-pop stars was on the line and the producers of the show were obviously expecting war. But to the surprise of the producers – and many viewers – there was no drama, and the artists instead put on unexpected show of support and camaraderie.

Each round saw the artists given a challenge such as re-enacting one of their hit songs or reinterpreting a track by one of the other groups, and each member worked hard on coming up with concepts and choreography.

Week after week, the tantalising performances on Queendom received acclaim from both critics and fans, and revealed the charisma of girl groups who had typically been seen as serving male fantasies by being “sexy” or “pure”.

In the second round, Oh My Girl, a group with an angelic and innocent image who debuted in 2015, stunned viewers with an ethereal cover of Lovelyz’s Destiny. Dressed in traditional black hanbok garb and ballerina flats, the seven girls danced in harmony to the new arrangement with traditional instrumentation. They won the first place in the round and the track topped the music charts.

And despite the tempting prize and terrifying repercussions of coming last, when other groups produced impressive performances, the rest clapped and cheered their rivals on.

“Each group already had the capacity to perform like they did in the show,” said Kim Yoon-ha, a music critic focusing on K-pop. “So instead of being caught up in the competition, they respected each other and showed off an unforeseen passion and confidence.”

Various observers interpreted the solidarity as an implicit rejection of the way female K-pop stars are expected to behave – no small feat considering that the rise of the feminist movement since the mid-2010s has caused unease among some South Korean men.

Yoon-Kim Ji-young, a professor at Konkuk University’s Body Culture Institute, argues that since the Asian financial crisis and the 2008 financial crisis, men have found it harder to find a stable job and feel threatened by more women entering the workforce.

“Men started feeling robbed of the male privileges that the previous generations enjoyed,” Yoon-Kim said.

As a result, men expected women to look younger and weaker to boost their sense of masculinity, according to Yoon-Kim. In turn, K-pop girl groups were expected to conform to their male fans’ expectations.

However, female acts now feel less obligation to cater to the desires of male fans, said Mimyo, an editor-in-chief of Idology, a K-pop online magazine. “In the past two to three years, female idol groups started listening to female fans’ demands,” Mimyo said. “During that period, the pre-existing formula of sexualised choreography and cutesy concepts began to crack.”

The rise of (G)I-DLE, the youngest contestants on the show, reflects such a shift. Each member is well versed in music composition and the group wrote most of the songs on their four albums to date.

In their final performance on Queendom, (G)I-DLE performed Lion, a song written by Soyeon that includes lyrics about getting rid of “useless decorum” and “tearing down oppressive prejudices”.

In the end, the winners were Mamamoo, a four-member group who enjoyed immediate success after their debut in 2014. But it was obvious that they were not the only winners.

“The artists proved that there is more than the simple dichotomy of looking innocent or sexy,” said Idology’s Mimyo. He hopes that the industry will start embracing such diversity.

Kim, the music critic, found the responses from viewers and fans interesting. “Previously, fans didn’t appreciate girl groups for their artistic talent,” she added, simply because it was never an option. But since Queendom, people have begun to pay attention to the skills and chemistry of each girl group, something which was previously reserved for boy groups.

“The show proved that female idols can succeed by exhibiting their talents, not just sexualised yet innocent looks. Other girl groups in the industry would have been inspired by the success of Queendom. This is just the beginning, not the end, of the change.”