The show’s setting is not mere window dressing. Seoul functions as a complex, ambivalent character. Kitty’s initial relationship with Korea is filtered through the lens of a K-drama enthusiast: the neon lights, the cozy pojangmacha (street food tents), and the perfectly coiffed students. This is a form of cultural tourism, a romanticized fantasy. However, the narrative systematically dismantles this fantasy.
At first glance, XO, Kitty —the 2023 Netflix spin-off of the beloved To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before franchise—appears to be a lightweight, sugary confection. It is a teen drama centered on Kitty Song Covey, the precocious youngest sister, as she jets off to the fictional Korean Independent School of Seoul (KISS) to reunite with her long-distance boyfriend, Dae. The show is replete with love triangles, dorm-room chaos, and a propulsive K-pop soundtrack. Yet, beneath its glossy, Gen-Z surface lies a surprisingly sophisticated narrative engine. XO, Kitty is not merely a romance; it is a sharp, often messy, interrogation of cultural dislocation, the deconstruction of the "model minority" myth, and a redefinition of romantic comedy conventions for a globalized, digital-native audience. XO Kitty -2023- Web Series
Perhaps the most audacious narrative choice is the slow-burn romance between Kitty and Yuri, the very girl Kitty initially suspects as her rival. This pivot subverts the traditional love triangle (Dae vs. new boy, Min Ho) by introducing a genuinely unexpected third axis. Kitty’s realization of her bisexuality is not presented as a crisis but as a quiet, seismic revelation. It is embedded in moments of genuine intimacy—Yuri comforting Kitty after a panic attack, the charged silence of a shared earbud. The show’s setting is not mere window dressing
By centering a half-Asian, bisexual protagonist in a Korean setting, speaking English but breathing Korean air, XO, Kitty captures the essence of the contemporary, globalized teen experience—one of hybrid identities, fluid desires, and the painful, exhilarating work of building a home not in a place, but in a truer understanding of oneself. It is not a great work of art, but it is a vital one: a sweet, messy, and unexpectedly profound map of the teenage heart in a world without borders. This is a form of cultural tourism, a romanticized fantasy
XO, Kitty is ultimately a successful failure—a show about a girl who fails at everything she sets out to do, and in doing so, discovers something more valuable than a boyfriend: a sense of self. It is a deeply meta-textual work, aware that its protagonist, like its target audience, has been raised on a diet of globalized pop culture. Kitty’s mistake is treating her life like a story; the show’s wisdom is showing her that the best stories are the ones we don’t write in advance.
This is where the show diverges from its predecessor. Lara Jean Covey’s journey was about the quiet terror and thrill of vulnerability. Kitty’s journey is about the violent crash of expectation against reality. The series dismantles the "hopeless romantic" archetype by revealing its inherent selfishness. Kitty’s desire to orchestrate a perfect reunion with Dae blinds her to his very real struggles—his father’s illness, his financial burdens, and his coercive fake relationship with the glamorous heiress, Yuri. XO, Kitty argues that love is not a puzzle to be solved but a reality to be navigated, often with humility and apology. The season’s emotional climax is not a grand kiss, but Kitty’s quiet, painful acceptance that she has been the architect of her own heartbreak.