No Ordinary Costume Party: A Day at Furry Joa
I went to Furry Joa because my daughter makes her own costumes. I was there to accompany her, or so I told myself. Then I started slowing down at every booth, admiring the handmade details and wondering how anyone could dance in a giant furry head without bumping into absolutely everyone.
At a furry convention, the costumes, called fursuits, are only the fluffiest part of the picture. Many fans create an animal character of their own, a personal mascot or alter ego known as a fursona. Some bring theirs to life in a full suit. Others share their creativity through art, crafts, photography, music, or dance, or simply come to meet people who love anthropomorphic characters as much as they do. The costumes may catch your eye, but creativity and community are what make a convention come alive.
For my daughter, Furry Joa was a chance to meet people who understood the work that goes into bringing a character to life. For me, it was a peek behind the ears and tails: artists showing their creations, makers selling furry-themed goods, and visitors meeting the people behind the costumes. It felt less like being dragged along to someone else’s hobby and more like being welcomed into a small, colorful world, one where imagination comes with excellent sewing skills.
The characters may feel timeless, but furry fandom as an organized community has a more recent history. Fans of anthropomorphic animals gathered at science-fiction conventions in the 1980s to share art, animation, and ideas. As those meetups grew, fans created a convention of their own: ConFurence 0, held in California on January 21, 1989. At general science-fiction events, furry fans had often been a small minority. Their own gathering gave them a place to meet, show their work, and discover they weren’t the only ones who loved this particular corner of imagination.
Furry suit and handmade head. Paws on display. Posing for the camera.
That same spirit is at the heart of Furry Joa (퍼리조아), a furry festival held in Goyang. The organizers describe it as a place for creative work and connection, where fans come to meet and share—not just buy and sell. Even the name has a little wag to it: furry meets joa, a playful spelling of the Korean word “좋아” (“like” or “love”). “JoA” also stands for Joining of Asia, an invitation for furry fans from across the region to gather.
Furry fandom has grown in its own ways across Asia, united by a love of anthropomorphic characters and the joy of making things together. Japan’s JMoF, short for Japan Meeting of Furries, began in 2013 and brings together fans of kemono, Japan’s closely related furry culture, for art, fursuits, music, performances, and more. In China, Super Furry Fusion began in Shanghai in 2018 as a convention centered on furry and fursuit culture. Furry Joa is Korea’s own meeting point, with a name that feels like a friendly wave to the wider region: come on in, there’s probably room for one more tail.
Handmade head mask. Outfit. Mask head.
And those costumes can involve a lot of sewing. A fursuit made by its wearer may cost less in materials, but a commissioned one can be a serious investment. Prices vary widely: one maker lists a partial suit, head, paws, and tail, from US$1,650, while another lists full-body suits at US$7,000–$10,000. Those are examples from individual makers, not a standard price guide; intricate designs, special features, and shipping can affect the final cost. Happily, you don’t need a full suit to join the fun. Some people wear just ears, paws, or a tail; others come in everyday clothes and enjoy the art, performances, and company.
You could spend hours simply admiring the costumes: paws, ears, tails, and characters made with so much care that you might start wondering whether the fox across the room has a better wardrobe than you do. Then you spot the booths.
The artists’ and makers’ booths are a great place to browse and discover handmade furry art, accessories, and other one-of-a-kind creations. There’s furry-themed art and handmade merchandise to browse, and you may meet the people who make the costumes and props that bring these characters to life. Each table has its own little world: one bright with character designs, another inviting you to lean in and admire the stitching on a costume accessory. And when the maker is right there, you can ask about the story behind what you’re holding, who it was made for, how it came together, or what inspired those gloriously dramatic ears.
You don’t need to arrive with a character, a costume, or even a shopping list. Browse, chat, watch a performance, and let the day surprise you. The program includes dance events and group photos, but some of the best moments may be the small, unscripted ones: cheering for a stranger in a giant head, discovering an artist whose work makes you smile, or explaining to a friend why you absolutely need that tiny wolf-themed trinket.
I thought I’d spend the day keeping an eye on the time. Instead, I kept looking for one more booth, one more costume detail, one more story. My daughter had made her own way into this world, stitch by stitch. I was lucky enough to follow her in, and I left understanding why people come back: for the craft, the characters, and the feeling of finding a place where everyone’s particular kind of joy is welcome.
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