I worked at a Cowboy go-go bar for four years. Getting on stage, accepting drinks. If a customer liked you, he'd pay the bar fine and take you out. The bar fine goes to the house; the rest you negotiate with the customer. Those four years were the most money I ever made. Every month I sent money home, paid my brother's tuition, even bought Mom a gold necklace for the first time. It was hard but rewarding — at least that's what I thought back then.

March 2020, COVID hit and the bar shut down completely. At first I thought, "It'll reopen in two weeks." But one month passed, then two. My bank balance dropped every day, rent started piling up, and every time Mom called I'd lie: "It's fine, I'll be back at work soon." Having zero income was a first in my life. I was truly scared.

I survived on savings, but that lasted maybe two months. Rent, food, sending money home... the outflow stayed the same while nothing came in.

Moving somewhere else felt hopeless too. In the end I went out looking for customers on my own — clubs, anywhere people gathered. But during COVID everything was closed or empty. Zero foreign tourists. I tried everything and nothing worked. Staying in Bangkok just meant burning rent money. So I packed up and went home. Packing felt like leaving behind everything I'd built over four years.

Back home I couldn't just sit around, so I did PR work at a local toh-loh (drinking table) place nearby. But with COVID hitting everyone, there were barely any customers. Upcountry prices were cheaper than Bangkok, but the customers didn't respect boundaries. Thai men somehow felt more entitled than the foreigners in Bangkok. Less money, worse behavior. Plus it's a small town — word spreads fast when things get inappropriate. I quit.

Around that time, Pii Tuk, a coworker from the bar, messaged me. She'd stayed in Bangkok and started selling clothes online. "I'm selling clothes now, want to try? Come back to Bangkok, let's do it together." I had nowhere else to go and couldn't handle the toh-loh anymore. So back to Bangkok I went.

I followed Pii Tuk to Pratunam, Bangkok's biggest wholesale clothing market. You can buy new clothes for 80-120 baht per piece there. She taught me how to photograph them and list them online.

My starting capital was whatever I had left plus about 10,000 baht borrowed from Pii Tuk. I bought about twenty pieces, photographed them with my phone, and listed on Shopee, Facebook Marketplace, Lazada — everywhere. Priced at 199, 249 baht. But reality was harsh. First month I sold maybe a dozen items. After shipping costs, there was almost no profit. Second month was similar. By month three I was seriously thinking, "This isn't working either" — should I go back to the toh-loh?

The turning point came by accident. One day I tried wearing the clothes myself for the photos. Years of doing makeup and posing at the bar were second nature, so my photos looked completely different from other sellers. The response was noticeably better.

"Ah, this is it." From then on I switched to a "daily office look" concept — wearing and shooting everything myself. No face, just neck down. But the styling sense, the posing skills I'd practiced every day at the bar — they all came in handy. That's when I realized no experience in life is truly wasted.

Once the photo quality went up, orders slowly grew. Three a day became five, five became ten. Comments like "Post more of this style please" started appearing, and I gained regulars. Still way less than bar money, but I could earn from home without going to a toh-loh. That alone was hope.

Of course it wasn't easy. I'd think "this will sell well," order too much, and get stuck with dead stock. Packages got lost and I had to refund customers. One bad review could wreck my mood for a week. Online selling looks easy from outside, but checking orders, packing, shipping, answering inquiries every day — it's physically demanding.

Now I get 10 to 20 orders a day. I have two helpers and use one room as a warehouse. Income-wise, honestly it's much less than the bar days. No comparison. But I can be home with my kid. I work during the day, not at night. And this is my own business. Nobody picks or doesn't pick me. Nobody touches my body. That freedom is the biggest thing.

These days I'm looking into connecting directly with Chinese factories. Buying from the wholesale market means middleman margins. If I can order directly from factories, my pricing becomes much more competitive. It's still in progress, but if it works out, it'll take things to the next level.

What I want to tell younger girls who say they can't afford to start: don't start big. Take a few thousand baht, buy a little, see what sells, then grow from there. The most important thing is photos. If you can take beautiful photos, you're already halfway there. And that skill? Those of us who've worked in this industry do it best.