For some people, coffee begins with a flavor. For others, it begins with a machine, a technique, or a competition. For Tay Wipvasutt, it began with people.
Tay Wipvasutt
Tay was still in his first year of university when he took a part-time job at a coffee shop. At that age, coffee itself didn’t feel particularly important. What stayed with him was something else entirely — the people walking through the door. Every day, there were new faces, different lives, different conversations. For someone young, it felt like discovering a world that existed far beyond his own.
“I really enjoyed how we get to know people with different lives, different occupations.”
That was the first connection. Not with coffee, but with what coffee allowed him to experience. It wasn’t until a few years later, around 2010 or 2011, that things started to become more serious. Together with friends, he opened a small coffee shop in Chiang Mai. It wasn’t a big step in terms of scale, but it was the first time coffee became something he was responsible for. Something he had to build, shape, and carry forward on his own.
Looking back now, that moment feels like the real beginning. From there, the years unfolded in a way that didn’t follow a straight path. Coffee changed, and so did the people drinking it. What used to be a simple stop for a drink slowly became something more intentional. Customers began to care about flavor, origin, and story. The industry grew, but not all at once — gradually, step by step, in small shifts that only become obvious when you look back over a long period of time.
“For me, it’s kind of like an adventure movie… you have to face many problems, and sometimes something surprises you.”
That sense of movement — of going through things rather than controlling them — shaped the way he experienced coffee. It wasn’t always about progress or success. Sometimes it was just about staying.
Competition entered his life during that journey, like it does for many people in coffee. It was a way to test himself, to step outside of the routine and see where he stood. But the first time he stepped onto the Aeropress stage, it didn’t go the way he hoped.
He failed.
There was no big moment, no dramatic ending. Just a quiet realization that it wasn’t working, at least not then. And after that, he stepped away. Not for a short time, but for years. Nearly a decade passed without returning to that stage. Life continued. Work continued. Coffee continued.
Then, in 2023, he decided to come back. There wasn’t a clear reason, no defined expectation. Just a return to something unfinished. And what followed was something he hadn’t planned for.
“I didn’t expect it at all.”
That year, he became the World Aeropress Champion.
Tay Wipvasutt
The result didn’t feel like the peak of a journey. It felt more like a moment that reflected everything that had come before it — the years of work, the failures, the time spent away, and the decision to come back without knowing what would happen.
“It really surprised me… it became a push for everything else I do.”
After more than a decade in coffee, the meaning of it had already changed. It was no longer something temporary, no longer something done out of curiosity or interest. It had become something more stable, something that defined how he lived.
“It has become my profession.”
That word carries a different weight. A profession is not just something you enjoy — it is something you take responsibility for. Something you offer to others with intention. Over time, that shift changes the way you see your work, and the way you see yourself.
“You have to give the real stuff to other people.”
For Tay Wipvasutt, coffee became that kind of work. Not just making drinks, not just running a business, but offering something meaningful through it. And in return, it took him further than he ever expected — to places, opportunities, and experiences that didn’t exist when he first started.
These days, his life looks different from before. The intensity has softened. The urgency has slowed down. At 38, he finds himself doing things he didn’t think much about before — staying home longer, taking care of daily routines, even something as simple as doing his own laundry. It’s a small detail, but it reflects a bigger shift: learning to take responsibility not just for work, but for life.
“I try to give more time to myself.”
Coffee is still there, of course. Brewing at home, working, traveling, continuing the journey. But now it exists alongside everything else, not above it. Looking ahead, the path isn’t fixed. There are plans — growing a small coffee trading business, traveling to origins, continuing to explore. But there’s also an acceptance that not everything needs to be decided right now.
Tay Wipvasutt
And maybe that’s the point. When asked what he would say to people outside Thailand, his answer is simple.
“Put your heart into it… in the end, it will take you somewhere further than where you started.”
Editor’s Note
We first met Tay Wipvasutt last year in Bangkok during our Asia Workshop Tour, and we still remember the warmth of that day — the coffee, the conversations, and the wonderful workshop we shared with the local community. This year, we are heading back to World of Coffee Bangkok, and we’ll be meeting Tay again. This time, we’ll be at his booth, collaborating for our GCAG charity project. Coffee always has a way of starting something. Like a seed, the people we meet through coffee can grow into friendship, community, and shared purpose. We can’t wait to see Tay again.
