Going to a hair dresser in Cambodia..

Illustrated travel blog Cambodia

I left Amsterdam in early January with freshly cut hair. Having a short hairstyle usually means frequent maintenance. And so I was quite attached to my awesome hair dresser called Arthur (for the insiders: Kinki Kappers Haarlemmerstraat)

But in Asia there’s no Arthur.

And after neglecting my hair for over 4 months I had to admit that it looked horrible. What was once a fashionable, neat looking hair cut was now more of a overgrown garden.

Dispair inspires stupid decisions. And so I walked into a local barbershop. And showed the man the image below:


The man turned on the trimmer, bravely shaved off half of my hair, and then asked: “finish?”

Wait. What?? Finished?! To my knowledge he had just begun! What about cutting the rest of my hair? What I about thinning out those thick curls on the top? What about making it look actually any where close to the picture I showed him?

I pointed out that he should cut the rest of my hair too, after which he started like a maniac randomly cutting left and right. This man had clearly no clue what he was doing.

I paid 2 dollars for the worst hair cut ever. And I wished for Arthur.


Two weeks later I met Marce, an awesome girl from Chili, in the dorm where I was sleeping. Marce was not only great company, she also happened to be a fabulous hairdresser! She travelled with a pair of scissors and so I sat down on the rooftop terrace where she saved my hair from further shame :))

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  1. Puck

    haha Lil, goed verhaal. Ben benieuwd hoe het er nu uit ziet. Foto?

  2. Anneke

    Hi Lilian. De titel van dit blog maakte mij direct heeeel nieuwsgierig aangezien ik mij ook had afgevraagd hoe je jouw kapsel in model kon houden ver weg van de kinky kappers. Pracht tekening en gelukkig was er na 2 weken een redding!
    Liefs mam

  3. Toos

    Als je haar maar goed zit, hoe raak is dat gezegde!

  4. Eileen wagner

    Hi Lilian, I feel your pain. This reminds me of when Aunt Cathy was going to beauty school, and decided to practice giving a shag cut on my long hair. Needless to say, I looked like a Shag Dog after that! I was 13 and that’s the worst possible age to have a really bad haircut. UGH! Love and miss you, Aunt Leenie

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