Twiggy | Vol. 9: What Artists Gain from Travel (Part 2) 1
Twiggy
Vol.9 What Artists Gain from Travel (Part 2) 1
Miho Matsuura, a popular hairstylist who has consistently proposed cutting-edge fashion at her salon "Twiggy," which she has led since 1990, has finally realized a project she has nurtured for several years. This is her own line of "organic shampoos & treatments." In the cosmetics industry, where scientific leaps are remarkable, why has someone at the forefront of fashion continued to focus on "organic"? This series will unravel the secrets behind it.
Narration by Miho MatsuuraCompiled by Yuka KobayashiPhotos by Koji Sato
Matsuura feels she had her fill of luxurious travel, the kind seen in fashion magazines, in her thirties. Following her previous trip to Baja California, she visited places with unique cultures rich in ethnic identity. "I often draw inspiration from ethnic cultures," Matsuura says, but beyond ideas for hairstyles, these experiences possessed a power that spoke directly to her way of life.
—Before your trip to Baja California, which you discussed last time, we heard you visited Senegal in Africa...
Yes. It was for work, but it was my first experience in Africa. Ten days living in a land where humans and animals, greenery, wind, sun, and water all coexist. Primitive dances and the sound of djembes, women gathering, always chatting while making clothes or braiding their hair. They would slaughter a pet goat for guests' meals, and use its hide for the djembe... It was a bewildering experience, but seeing their homes filled me with a strange sense of nostalgia and liberation, and I almost cried when I left.
—And after the soul-cleansing journey in Baja California, you went on to Morocco and Ladakh...
We went to Morocco as a family because of my husband's work. The clear difference from the Baja California trip was that this was a trip with a defined purpose as an NPO volunteer, and I knew from the start that there was something to learn there. It was after I clarified what I wanted to learn that I headed to these two places. In Morocco, we visited an oasis where people live by utilizing something like a 'hattara,' a type of well. A village suddenly appears in the middle of a barren plain. The people there lived a life with absolutely no waste, beyond the minimum water and vegetables necessary for survival. I was deeply moved by this sight. Firstly, there's a considerable distance between villages. It's about an hour's drive on a desert road where you can't see anything in any direction to reach the next village. Despite this, when I spoke with the villagers, they seemed truly happy, with no complaints about their lives. From our perspective, they lacked many things, but to them, nothing was missing. There was a system in place where the village chief would first decide how to handle anything that outsiders might try to bring in with a one-sided sense of goodwill, thinking they must be in trouble.

Otherwise, the sudden introduction of goods could cause disputes among villagers who normally don't fight, over 'who took what.' The village chief told me, 'We want you not to give us things when you haven't been asked.' Keeping this sentiment in mind, I was conscious of give and take even in urban areas like Marrakesh. When children would approach me on the street asking for money, I would ask them for something in return. For example, my son's sneakers in exchange for directions, or a carrot for my daughter's hairpin (laughs). The price of things isn't always money. I feel I learned a great deal from that trip.
