Asos co-founder Quentin Griffiths dies after fall in Pattaya

Quentin Griffiths, a British retail entrepreneur who co-founded online fashion giant Asos, has died after falling from an 18-storey condominium in Pattaya, Thailand. Thai police said they were called on 9 February and that an autopsy found “no indication of foul play” and no sign of a break-in, according to The Guardian, citing a BBC interview with an unnamed investigator.

Griffiths, 58, helped launch Asos in London in 2000 with Nick Robertson, initially under the name “As Seen on Screen” before the company adopted its acronym in 2002. Asos grew into one of the world’s largest online fashion retailers, with celebrity customers including Rihanna and Michelle Obama, The Guardian notes. Griffiths left Asos in 2005 and later pursued a string of ventures, including the online furniture retailer Achica and ethical fashion site Adili. Not all of those bets paid off: The Guardian reports that his music-focused fashion retailer EBTM later went into administration, while Adili was sold for a nominal £1.

Thai police told the BBC that Griffiths had been involved in two court cases that may have caused him stress. The detail echoes a familiar expat storyline: a successful foreigner in a “paradise” jurisdiction, suddenly entangled in local legal machinery that is opaque to outsiders until it isn’t.

The Independent this week reported on an Australian OnlyFans model, Gemma Doyle, who apologised after being caught on surveillance video shoplifting a bikini in Bali. The alleged theft was minor—she said the bikini was worth about A$30—and under Indonesian law petty theft can carry up to three months in prison. Yet the story was the collision between social-media bravado and local enforcement: after the video spread, Doyle said she received death threats, then paid about IDR19m (around £835) in compensation and the parties agreed to drop the case, according to The Independent.

Together, the two stories point to what “jurisdiction shopping” can mean. Entrepreneurs, influencers, and remote workers move capital—and themselves—to places with cheaper living costs, lighter regulation, or simply better weather. But when something goes wrong—an accident, a dispute, an arrest—the same state capacity they were happy to treat as background noise becomes the main character. Police reports become a negotiated narrative; insurance coverage and inheritance law suddenly matter; and “local courts” stop being a travel advisory bullet point.

Globalisation is often sold as a world where talent is mobile and borders are obsolete. But the border still exists; it’s just waiting for you at the hospital, the police station, or the probate office.