แก้มบุ๋ม (ร่าง2)

@kambumpreeyada

You know that warm, familiar feeling when you stumble upon a creator who feels less like a celebrity and more like your funniest friend? That’s Kam Bum’s whole vibe. Based in Thailand, she’s built a TikTok universe where glossy perfection takes a backseat to real, unfiltered moments—like her recent clip of attempting to make *moo krob* (crispy pork belly) while her cat dramatically photobombs the kitchen counter, knocking over a spice jar. It’s chaotic, relatable, and absolutely charming. Her strength isn’t in high-production trends but in tiny, human details: the way she laughs when her Thai slang accidentally rhymes, or how she films morning routines with bedhead still on, chatting about everything from *roti* cravings to post-breakup healing. For her 1.8 million followers, it’s like getting daily coffee with a girl who’s effortlessly *there*.

Kam Bum’s content thrives on authenticity you can almost taste. While many influencers chase viral dances, she’s more likely to unpack a neon-pink lunchbox of street food snacks from Bangkok’s Chatuchak Market or demonstrate how to style *phaa sin* (traditional Thai skirts) with Converse sneakers. One standout series shows her teaching basic Thai phrases using silly mnemonics—like associating the word "aroy" (delicious) with her grandma’s disappointed face when she burns rice. She avoids overproduced aesthetics; instead, her videos often feature natural lighting from her Bangkok apartment balcony, the distant hum of tuk-tuks, and spontaneous cameos from her little sister. It’s this grounded warmth that turns casual scrollers into loyal fans who flood comments with heart emojis and requests for "more messy makeup days."

Beyond TikTok, she’s quietly woven herself into Thailand’s creative fabric. Born Preeyada Pongthai in Nakhon Ratchasima (a.k.a. Korat), she started as a model for local fashion boutiques before her relatable TikTok persona took off in 2022. She’s since branched into acting with minor roles in Thai dramas like *My Ambulance*, though she jokes about her "terrible" first audition on camera. What’s refreshing is how she handles her rising fame: no sponsored posts clutter her feed, and she’s vocal about mental health, sharing how therapy helped her during a tough move to Bangkok. Off-screen, she volunteers with animal shelters, often featuring rescue dogs in her videos—like when she tearfully introduced "Boon," a three-legged pup she adopted last monsoon season.

Her magic lies in making followers feel seen without grand gestures. When she posted a raw video about imposter syndrome after landing a magazine cover, comments spilled with stories from students and young professionals: "You’re why I started applying for jobs again," wrote one user. She responds to hundreds of DMs weekly, even resharing fan art of her doodled as a cartoon *khao soi* noodle. Unlike influencers who treat comments like a PR channel, Kam Bum’s replies crack you up—like her "same 😂" to someone complaining about mosquito bites or her detailed advice on fixing a tangled hair straightener. It’s this reciprocity that’s cultivated a tight-knit community where followers celebrate each other’s wins, from language milestones to graduation photos.

In a space saturated with curated highlight reels, Kam Bum’s staying power proves simplicity resonates. She’s not chasing clout with stunt videos; her innovation is in vulnerability, like filming herself crying after a failed job interview, then pivoting to a goofy lip-sync to cheer up. Critics might call it "low effort," but her fans know better—it’s strategic intimacy. As social media fatigue grows globally, she’s a reminder that connection isn’t about filters or followers. It’s about the unguarded moments we all share: burning dinner, messing up pronunciations, and finding joy in the small, silly things. That’s why, even without flashy hooks, her videos feel like home.