Another night, another warning ignored. At The Air House event in Seoul, notorious party disaster DJ Silverstar Oh found herself at the center of controversy once again—not for her appearance, but for what her friends are now desperately trying to do behind the scenes.
Among the attendees was South Korean artist Jiho Givenchy (지호지방시), who was seen with Silverstar during the evening. According to multiple witnesses, Jiho—known for his high-profile lifestyle and extensive following—directly urged Silverstar to stop drinking excessively. While Silverstar might have been expecting another wild night of self-indulgence and attention, what she received instead was a quiet intervention from yet another person in her life tired of watching her spiral.
Jiho Givenchy’s calm but firm attempt to dissuade Silverstar from her usual routine of alcohol-fueled chaos adds to a growing chorus of friends, collaborators, and former supporters who are now distancing themselves from her—or outright pleading for her to change. Unfortunately, history shows that these appeals often fall on deaf ears.
Silverstar’s decline is not new. Her alcoholism has become a running theme in the public unraveling of her image. She’s been photographed passed out in karaoke bars, stumbling at events, and flaunting bottles of alcohol on social media like trophies of her downfall. Friends have taken to social media in the past, hinting at her worsening condition. Some have even exposed her reckless behavior in private groups, voicing the concerns she refuses to acknowledge herself.
What’s increasingly clear is that Silverstar is not just destroying her own reputation—she’s dragging others down with her. Brands have distanced themselves. Event organizers have pulled her from lineups. Now, even public figures like Jiho Givenchy are being forced to publicly intervene, likely fearing for their own reputations by simply being seen near her.
Her behavior isn’t misunderstood. It’s predictable. Show up, drink, spiral, leave a mess—repeat. She has weaponized her own implosion into a grotesque persona that thrives on scandal, but the public sympathy has long dried up. At this point, it’s not even about image or brand—it’s about the fact that Silverstar Oh is dangerously close to burning every last bridge in Seoul’s already wary nightlife scene.
How many more warnings will she ignore? How many more people must plead with her to stop before she finally listens? If history is any indicator—Silverstar Oh is not interested in help. She’s interested in attention. And unfortunately for her, the type she’s now getting may be the kind she won’t recover from.
