On 11/11, South Korea celebrates Pepero Day. History of Lotte's iconic snack, marketing genius, Pocky Day rivalry, and cultural phenomenon.
Seoul, November eleventh, eight in the morning. Inside a pyeonuijeom (편의점, convenience store) in the Hongdae neighborhood, the storefront has vanished behind a wall of pink, red, and gold boxes. Cardboard towers stacked to the ceiling form columns that echo, with deliberate humor, the four sticks of the number 11.11. Behind the register, a clerk in an apron adjusts a heart-shaped display filled with chocolate-coated biscuit sticks. On the sidewalk, two high school girls in uniform compare hand-decorated kraft paper bags stuffed with customized boxes, ribbons, stickers, and messages written in gold marker. One of them hands a package to her friend, laughing: "Happy Pepero Day!" It is the morning of South Korea's strangest unofficial holiday, a nationwide celebration of the biscuit stick that mobilizes millions of people, generates hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue, and splits the country between sincere enthusiasm and amused skepticism.
Pepero Day (빼빼로 데이) appears on no official calendar. No presidential decree established it. No ancient tradition justifies it. Yet every November eleventh, all of South Korea transforms into a gigantic biscuit stall. How did a simple factory-made snack become the excuse for a popular festival celebrated by tens of millions of people? The story of Pepero Day is the story of an unlikely meeting between a biscuit, a date, and the marketing genius of a country that has turned pop culture into a way of life.

A Biscuit, a Date, a Phenomenon
The exact origin of Pepero Day is the subject of several competing accounts, but all of them point to the same city: Busan (부산), South Korea's second-largest metropolis, a massive port facing the Korea Strait. According to the most widespread version, everything began in the mid-1990s, at a girls' middle school in the Yeongdo (영도구) district. A group of schoolgirls supposedly started exchanging Pepero sticks on November eleventh because the date, written 11/11, looks like four thin biscuits lined up side by side. The gesture carried a wish: to stay slim and slender like a Pepero. Other versions place the origin in 1994, others in 1997. Some accounts mention high schoolers rather than middle schoolers, and some name the Nampo-dong (남포동) neighborhood instead of Yeongdo.
This chronological vagueness is hardly surprising. Popular holidays rarely spring from a single, datable event; they emerge from an accumulation of spontaneous practices that, at some point, reach critical mass and become "tradition." What is certain is that by the late 1990s, the habit of exchanging Pepero on November eleventh had spread far beyond the schoolyards of Busan to reach the entire country. The media picked it up. Distribution networks followed. And Lotte (롯데), the manufacturer of Pepero, quickly realized it was sitting on a gold mine.
The date itself possesses an undeniable numerical elegance. November eleventh, month eleven, day eleven, is written in digits as 11/11, or for the most enthusiastic, 11.11. Four vertical lines, four biscuit sticks. The year 2011 was a peak: 11/11/11, six ones in a row, triggered an unprecedented commercial frenzy. Pepero sales that day shattered Lotte's most optimistic forecasts. Couples got married on the date for the anecdote. Babies born on 11/11/11 at 11:11 made the evening news.
Pepero: The Story of a National Snack
To understand Pepero Day, you first need to understand Pepero itself. This chocolate-coated biscuit stick is manufactured by Lotte Confectionery (롯데제과, Lotte Jejwa), the confectionery arm of the South Korean conglomerate Lotte Group. The first Pepero rolled off the production line in 1983. It was a simple product: a crunchy biscuit stick about twelve centimeters long, its upper two-thirds coated in milk chocolate. The bare lower third served as a grip for the fingers. The name "Pepero" is thought to derive from a Korean onomatopoeia evoking something long and thin, though Lotte has never officially confirmed this etymology.
The success was immediate. Pepero filled a niche that the Korean snack market had not yet addressed: a sweet, portable, clean (no greasy crumbs on the fingers thanks to the uncoated section), shareable, and affordable treat. In the 1980s, South Korea was experiencing explosive economic growth, and a new urban middle class was discovering the pleasures of mass consumption. Pepero became one of the era's iconic snacks, alongside Orion's Choco Pie (초코파이) and Nongshim's Saewookkang (새우깡, shrimp chips).
The Variants: An Empire of Flavors
Over the decades, Lotte has expanded Pepero into dozens of variants. The current catalog includes more than fifteen permanent lines and numerous seasonal editions:
- Pepero Original: the classic, biscuit and milk chocolate, the one that started it all.
- Pepero Almond (아몬드): coated in chocolate studded with crushed roasted almonds, the most popular variant after the original.
- Pepero Nude (누드): a conceptual inversion where the chocolate is inside a hollow biscuit tube, creating a cookie shell filled with chocolate cream.
- Pepero Dark Chocolate (다크초콜릿): for those who prefer a more intense cocoa profile.
- Pepero White Cookie: cocoa biscuit coated in white chocolate sprinkled with cookie pieces.
- Pepero Green Tea (녹차): matcha coating, a nod to the Korean and Japanese love of green tea.
- Pepero Strawberry (딸기): pink strawberry coating, popular in spring.
- Pepero Tiramisu, Pepero Blueberry Yogurt, Pepero Melon: limited editions that appear according to seasons and trends.
The production numbers are staggering. Lotte Confectionery produces hundreds of millions of Pepero boxes every year. In a normal month, Pepero sales hover around eight to ten billion won (roughly six to eight million euros). But in October and November, as Pepero Day approaches, production surges. According to Lotte's annual reports, Pepero sales during those two months account for roughly half of the product's annual revenue. The Pepero factory then operates around the clock, three shifts a day, seven days a week.
Pepero vs Pocky: The Biscuit Stick Wars
It is impossible to discuss Pepero without mentioning its rival, its model, its Japanese twin: Pocky (ポッキー). Pepero did not emerge from a vacuum. Pocky, manufactured by Ezaki Glico (江崎グリコ株式会社), an Osaka-based company founded in 1922, has existed since 1966. Seventeen years before the first Pepero. The resemblance between the two products is striking: same concept of a chocolate-coated biscuit stick, same format, same logic of expansion into multiple flavors.
The Copycat Accusation
Whether Pepero is a copy of Pocky has fueled decades of debate, lawsuits, and tension between the two companies. Glico has filed complaints against Lotte on multiple occasions, notably in 2014 before Japanese courts, arguing that the shape of the coated biscuit stick constituted a protectable trade dress. The Tokyo court dismissed the complaint, ruling that the shape of a chocolate-coated biscuit stick was too generic to be protected under trademark law. Glico appealed; the appeal was also rejected. In South Korea, Lotte has never been found guilty of counterfeiting.
On the flavor front, connoisseurs note subtle differences. Japanese Pocky tends to have a thinner, crunchier biscuit with a chocolate coating slightly richer in cocoa. Korean Pepero offers a somewhat thicker, more floury biscuit with a sweeter, milkier chocolate. Both products have their fierce partisans, and online debates between "Team Pocky" and "Team Pepero" reach a level of intensity that would astonish anyone who has never taken a biscuit seriously.
Pocky Day: The Japanese Twin
Japan also celebrates November eleventh as the day of the chocolate biscuit stick. Glico officially established Pocky & Pretz Day (ポッキー&プリッツの日) in 1999, creating a dual anniversary for its two flagship products: Pocky (sweet stick) and Pretz (プリッツ, savory stick). Glico's strategy is more institutional than Lotte's: the company has repeatedly attempted to break the Guinness World Record for the most people shouting "Pocky!" simultaneously. In November 2012, Glico managed to rally tens of thousands of participants via social media in an attempt to inscribe Pocky Day in the record books. The hashtag #pocky became one of the most tweeted in the world that day.
The coexistence of both holidays on the same date illustrates a fascinating cultural dynamic between Korea and Japan. Two countries that are geographically close, linked by centuries of exchange (and conflict), celebrating the same day with an almost identical product, each claiming emotional ownership of the holiday. In Korea, mentioning that Pocky is "the original" can provoke an irritated reaction. In Japan, some people are entirely unaware that Pepero Day exists. This friendly (or not so friendly) rivalry mirrors the complex relationship between the two nations.
Pepero and Pocky are like two cousins who look too much alike to get along easily, but whose rivalry has made each one better than it would have been alone.
November 11: A Marketing Empire
Pepero Day is, without question, one of the most brilliant marketing coups in the history of Asia's food industry. What makes the operation remarkable is that Lotte did not create the holiday: it captured it, amplified it, and institutionalized it with formidable efficiency.
The Numbers That Make Your Head Spin
Data published by Lotte Confectionery and by analysts in the Korean food sector are eloquent. In 2019, a pre-pandemic year, Pepero sales for the month of November alone reached approximately 25 billion won (roughly twenty million euros). By 2023, that figure surpassed 30 billion won. Measured against Pepero's annual revenue (estimated between 60 and 70 billion won), this means that more than 40 percent of yearly sales are concentrated in the six weeks leading up to and including November eleventh. Add October sales to the picture, and the proportion reaches roughly 50 percent. In other words, half of all Pepero consumed in Korea each year is purchased in connection with Pepero Day.
Limited Editions and Collaborations
Every year, starting in October, Lotte unleashes an avalanche of limited editions. Special packaging is a core part of the strategy. Heart-shaped boxes, gift sets with printed messages ("I love you," "You are my best friend," "Thank you, Teacher"), customizable packaging where the buyer can handwrite a message. Prices range from a thousand won (less than one euro) for a standard box to over thirty thousand won (about twenty-five euros) for a premium set containing multiple varieties, a ribbon, and sometimes a small extra gift.
Collaborations with K-pop (케이팝) idols are a decisive marketing lever. Lotte has regularly enlisted some of the country's most popular groups and soloists as Pepero ambassadors. BLACKPINK, BTS, EXO, TWICE: the biggest names in K-pop have lent their image to the biscuit stick. Special editions featuring a group's members generate lines outside convenience stores, and fans collect the packaging like photocards. In 2016, Pepero boxes bearing the faces of EXO members resold on e-commerce sites at three to five times the original purchase price.
Pepero Bouquets and Cakes
Pepero Day has spawned an entire artisanal ecosystem. Florists offer Pepero bouquets: arrangements where biscuit sticks replace flowers, wrapped in tissue paper with ribbons. Pastry chefs create Pepero cakes: layered desserts decorated with dozens of sticks planted vertically, forming a sweet forest. On online marketplaces like Coupang (쿠팡) and in gift shops, handcrafted customized Pepero gift sets compete in ingenuity. Some include plush toys, scented candles, or tea sachets, transforming a simple packet of biscuits into a composite gift whose symbolic value far exceeds its edible contents.
Social media amplifies the phenomenon every year. On Instagram and TikTok, the hashtag #PeperoDay generates millions of posts. Tutorials show how to create the perfect bouquet. Videos compare the flavors of every variant. Couples post photos of their "Pepero Day date." The holiday has become content as much as celebration, an occasion for creation and sharing that extends well beyond consumption of the biscuit itself.

Beyond the Biscuit: What Pepero Day Reveals About Korea
The Consumerist Critique
Pepero Day does not enjoy universal approval. Every year, voices rise to denounce what they see as a purely commercial holiday, invented by (or at least massively exploited by) a multinational corporation to sell biscuits. The parallel with Valentine's Day is frequently invoked: a holiday whose emotional origin has been submerged by commercial logic. In South Korea, this critique has a name: people speak of sangeopjeok ginyeomil (상업적 기념일, "commercial commemorative day").
Korean consumer associations have regularly pointed out Lotte's profit margins on Pepero Day special editions. In 2018, the organization Consumers Korea (소비자시민모임) published a report showing that certain Pepero Day gift sets were sold at margins 30 to 50 percent higher than the same products sold during the rest of the year, simply by changing the packaging. The report sparked a media debate, but it hardly dented sales: the following November eleventh, Lotte recorded yet another record.
Some intellectuals and social commentators go further, seeing in Pepero Day the symptom of a South Korean society caught in a cycle of conspicuous consumption where every month brings its own commercial "day": White Day (March 14, the answer to Valentine's Day), Black Day (April 14, for singles), Rose Day (May 14), Pepero Day (November 11), not to mention Christmas, now celebrated in Korea more as a romantic couples' holiday than a religious observance. The proliferation of these dates, all tied to purchases, raises questions about the Korean relationship between affection and its commodification.
A Genuine Moment of Sharing
But reducing Pepero Day to a marketing operation would be both unfair and incomplete. For millions of Koreans, November eleventh is a genuine moment of warmth. Pepero sticks are not exchanged solely between lovers: they circulate among friends, among office colleagues, between students and teachers, between parents and children. In elementary schools, children make handmade Pepero in cooking class, dipping sticks into melted chocolate and decorating them with colorful sprinkles. In offices, boxes of Pepero appear on desks accompanied by short notes. In families, it is an excuse to gather, to laugh together at a holiday everyone knows is a little absurd but celebrates anyway.
This emotional dimension is far from trivial. It fits into a Korean culture of jeong (정), that deep feeling of attachment, human warmth, and emotional bonding that permeates interpersonal relationships in Korea. Offering a Pepero is a modest, accessible gesture that says "I am thinking of you" without the solemnity of an expensive gift. It is a social lubricant, a pretext for expressing affection that Korean culture, Confucian at its roots, does not always encourage people to verbalize directly.
November 11 Elsewhere in Asia: China's Singles' Day
It is worth noting that November eleventh is also a major commercial date in another Asian country, but for entirely different reasons. In China, 11/11 is Singles' Day (光棍节, Guānggùn Jié, literally "bare sticks festival"), a day originally created in the 1990s by students at Nanjing University to celebrate (with self-deprecating humor) being single. The four "ones" in the date (11/11) symbolize four lonely people. In 2009, e-commerce giant Alibaba (阿里巴巴) transformed Singles' Day into the world's largest online shopping event, with tens of billions of dollars in transactions within twenty-four hours.
Korea's Pepero Day and China's Singles' Day share a common structure: a numerically striking date (11/11), a grassroots student origin, and massive commercial co-optation. But their meanings diverge. Pepero Day is a holiday of connection, sharing, and gifts offered to others. Singles' Day is a holiday of buying for yourself, of personal reward. One celebrates the relationship; the other celebrates the individual. These two readings of the same date speak volumes about the cultural differences between contemporary Korea and China.
Four sticks lined up on a calendar: Korea sees a gift to share, China sees a freedom to celebrate. The same number, two philosophies of happiness.
A Phenomenon That Travels
Pepero Day was for a long time a strictly Korean affair. But with the rise of hallyu (한류, the Korean Wave) and a Korean diaspora spread across every continent, the holiday has begun to cross borders. In Korean neighborhoods in Los Angeles, Tokyo, Sydney, and Paris, Asian grocery stores set up Pepero displays starting in October. K-pop fans around the world celebrate Pepero Day on social media, posting photos of their biscuits alongside the hashtags of their favorite groups.
Lotte, aware of this potential, has intensified its export efforts. Pepero is now distributed in more than fifty countries. Export packaging carries text in English, Chinese, Japanese, and sometimes Arabic. The brand has opened accounts on major international social media platforms and sponsors events related to Korean culture abroad.
Will Pepero Day survive its own growth? Will it one day become a global holiday, the way Halloween crossed the Atlantic? Or will it remain a specifically Korean charm, one of those traditions that only make full sense in the cultural context that gave them birth? The question remains open. What is certain is that every November eleventh, on the streets of Seoul, Busan, and Daegu, millions of chocolate-coated biscuit sticks change hands, carrying a simple message that needs no translation: someone thought of you today.
Written by Chloé
Passionate about East Asian cultures, otome games and shojo manga. Every article is a deep dive into what I love.
