Gewatteerde sok van katoen. De vorm van alle sokken is in principe dezelfde, met graduele afwijkingen in kromming aan de voorzijde. Aangezien deze tamelijk los in het schoeisel moeten zitten, worden dergelijke sokken op maat gemaakt, opdat ze strak om de voet zitten. All the lines of the poson sweep together to meet in a hooked peak at the toe. No part of the pŏsŏn resembles its corresponding part on the foot closely. Since it fits snug, the beoseon does not come off easily once it is on. When taken off, it retains its attractive form. In fact, though originally for the foot, it can also serve as a decorative piece for a room. Pŏsŏn are made of four layers of white cotton fabric between which thin layers of cotton wadding are quilted. Each time the pŏsŏn are washed, the wadding must be removed and requited. The sewing and washing of pŏsŏn were perpetual tasks for all Korean women just a generation ago. Children's pŏsŏn were often adorned with embroidery along the instep or tassels at the toe. The pŏsŏn of women from respectable families were expected to fit perfectly and often took as much effort to put on as the old Western-style corsets. However, if a pŏsŏn was not carefully made, people often joked that it looked like it was made in the shape of a broom. An old story from the Chosŏn period tells of how the king laughed at the respected Neo-Confucian scholar Yi Hwang (1501-1570) because his poson were shaped like brooms. With the growing popularity of Western-style clothing over the last several decades, pŏsŏn have fallen out of favor. Gone are the days when a young bride had dozens of pairs made for her trousseau. Shops specializing in pŏsŏn-making all closed by the end of the 1980s, and most of the factories manufacturing the rubber shoes worn with pŏsŏn closed in the 1990s. Pŏsŏn-making has become a minor cottage industry, and the many stores of the old pŏsŏn shops are a thing of the past. Still pŏsŏn live on because connoisseurs of traditional fashion recognize the importance and charm of the quilted socks.