Even among the flashy signs on the bustling main drag of Seongsu-dong, a former warehouse district turned hipster haven in Seoul, the mustard-yellow facade of the Kodak Corner Shop stands out.

On a recent afternoon, the two-story apparel store in what locals call the “Brooklyn of Seoul” teemed with shoppers. “Share Moments. Share Life” — a slogan Kodak launched nearly a quarter-century ago — was posted above the door. People browsed shelves of Kodak-branded clothing, including shorts, T-shirts, baseball caps, book bags, sundresses and sandals.

One of the shoppers, Erye An, a 27-year-old film photographer, modeled a cross-body bag emblazoned with Kodak’s signature red-and-yellow, camera-shutter logo, once among the most recognizable symbols in the world.

Ms. An, who mentioned that her refrigerator was packed with Kodak film and kimchi, said the shop mirrored the “dreamy” tones of analog photographs and evoked for her a nostalgic feeling.

Her friend, Lee Young-ji, a 30-year-old marketing student, offered an explanation for why the shop was so busy: “I think it’s because Kodak hasn’t lost its emotional touch.”

The Eastman Kodak Company, a brand as big in its heyday as Apple or Google today and whose sentimental ads left lumps in the throats of generations of consumers, has become a cautionary tale for companies slow to adapt to change. At its headquarters in Rochester, N.Y., most of the roughly 200 buildings that once stood on its 1,300-acre campus have either been razed or are occupied by other businesses.