📝 Day 3 – Smocks, Scissors & a Slice of Humble Pie
- Stephenie
- 1 day ago
- 6 min read
Day 3 kicked off with an 8 AM wake-up call — and man, was it rough. After a night of sweating our asses off (thanks to an AC that kept timing out for reasons
we’d only figure out later), we dragged ourselves out of bed. We got to the competition venue by 9 AM, where the mayhem was already in full swing.
Buses were parked everywhere — schools had bused in students to compete, and parking was its own culture shock. One moment we were up on the sidewalk, the next we were parked in a random grassy patch off the main road. It felt a bit like “anything goes,” as long as the wheels stopped turning.
There were over 300 competitors — a staggering number. Since we were the only three foreigners, we scored some VIP treatment: a private dressing room where we could catch our breath and regroup. That little oasis was a lifesaver.
Once we were set, we headed out to find our assigned tables. We were split into different sections, and with
Harley dashing around running the show, I found myself on my own for a bit. Thankfully, the other groomers were incredibly kind. Even if most didn’t speak much English, they stepped in to help me with the competition etiquette: showing me how to don the supplied smock, positioning my dog correctly, and ensuring I didn’t flub the setup. The rules? They’re in the manual somewhere—but once I stepped into the ring, my brain went completely numb except for the basics: breathe, trim the Manhattan pattern in the Poodle class, and… apparently that’s it.
What blew me away was the sheer kindness. No eye rolls, no “you should know this” looks—just helpful smiles as they guided me through every step. I even got to wear my loops, which made everything soooo much more comfortable. This accessibility, both in support and practical accommodations, meant the whole chaos felt unexpectedly manageable.
I spent the next 45 minutes just staring at my dog while we listened to a ceremony over the loudspeaker. And let’s be honest, I wish life came with subtitles sometimes because I had no idea what was being said. I eventually realized it was time to start when I heard all the clippers buzz into action around me.
Speaking of which: the Korean groomers are absolute scissor ninjas. They work in magical, almost hypnotic bursts—one moment a perfect back leg appears, then another pristine front leg, followed by the body and face.
Meanwhile, there I was in a smock that clung too tightly, sweating like mad, hacking away with a messy style that could only be described as “rough and ready.” I even had a few disasters: my straight shears got dropped and wouldn’t work, so I had to complete the trim with curves only; and five minutes in, I nicked my left finger. I wrapped it in my shirt and kept going one-handed for the next 15 minutes. Rough? Yes. But when I finally stepped away, I was proud — it was my best trim yet. I’m setting this as my standard trim for next year, a target to practice and then compare.
After we wrapped up grooming, we simply looped our
badges around our dogs’ noses, tidied our stations, and exited the building as the judging began. I loved that we got to leave for judging rather than sit around until eternity—it was a real mental breather.
Back in our dressing room, Harley greeted us with lunch (I can’t recall what it was, but it was delicious). Later, we hit the vendor booths outside, where I snagged a new pair of straight shears for 100,000 won (about $75 USD). That little win meant I wasn’t left stranded without tools the next day.
We spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out — calling our husbands (perfect timing, since they were
getting ready for bed back home) and soaking up the last bits of the competition atmosphere. Inside, there was even a dance contest going on that we didn’t understand but which was utterly entertaining. When the awards finally rolled in, everything got confusing because I couldn’t follow the Korean announcements, but in the end, we all received honorary qualifying awards. I’m not entirely sure what they mean, but we felt pretty damn special regardless.
It was Allison’s first in-person contest, and while she wasn’t 100% happy with her outcome, I thought she did amazing. Just showing up in a room with 300 groomers halfway around the world is an achievement in itself.
We capped off Day 3 with another fantastic dinner hosted by the KKC — this time enjoying samgyetang, a Cornish hen in a hearty bowl of stew. Conversations flowed as we debriefed with Harley about what worked, what could be improved, and how to keep growing the international spirit of the competition.
After dinner, we hit the hotel for a shower and promptly crashed. Our bodies were exhausted, but our hearts were full.
🌏 Cultural Differences – Day 3
Parking is pure chaos. Sidewalks, grassy ditches, and anything that felt like a parking spot — it was all part of the experience.
Competition etiquette comes naturally here. Even when my mind blanked out, fellow groomers stepped in without judgment, guiding me with kindness.
The art of grooming. Watching the Korean groomers was like witnessing a live sculpture unfold — efficient, flawless, and almost mesmerizing.
Exit for judging. Instead of sitting around in awkward silence, they simply clear you out once you’re done. It’s brilliant for mental clarity.
Unexpected support. From being allowed to wear my loops for extra comfort to the collective effort in ensuring everyone felt included, the accessibility here was on another level.
♿ Accessibility – Day 3
Despite the high-energy, sensory overload of competition day, there was structure in the chaos. Specific supports made the day truly accessible:
Clear Guidance & Kindness: Even when I couldn’t remember the rules or lost focus, other groomers helped me out without a hint of condescension.
Practical Accommodations: They let me wear my loops, which made a massive difference in staying comfortable and focused.
Built-in Breaks: Knowing that once grooming was done we’d be ushered out for judging helped me manage sensory overload.
Predictable Workflow: Even without understanding the loudspeaker announcements (subtitles, please!), the overall structure allowed me to find my footing.
💸 Spending Summary – Day 3
Item | Amount (USD) | Notes |
Meals | $0 | KKC covered lunch and dinner again — endless generosity. |
New Straight Shears | ₩100,000 (~$75) | My old pair bit the dust; this one's my new lifeline for tomorrow. |
Bandages | $0 | I improvised with my shirt — true DIY. |
Total: ~$75.00
Day 3 cost me nothing but a new pair of shears (and a minor finger incident), but the invaluable lessons and support? Priceless.
💤 End of Day 3 – Final Thoughts
Today was a whirlwind of early mornings, nerve-wracking competition, and moments that pushed me to my limits — both physically and mentally. Though I fumbled through some parts, the kindness and resilience of everyone around me made it a day of growth. I left the ring with scars, yes, but also with a quiet pride and the determination to refine my craft for next year.
I’m deeply grateful for the hospitality, the clear accessibility (loops and all), and the overall generosity that turned a stressful day into an unforgettable experience. Tomorrow’s another competition day, and armed with today’s lessons, I know I’ll be even more ready