Lady Low Rider
"I didn‘t want to be on the passenger seat. I wanted my own car, my own low rider, and I wanted to drive it myself," explains Sandy Avila from Los Angeles. The 40-year-old mother of four not only built her own low rider, but also founded one of the few female low rider clubs. "We used to be just the wives and girlfriends who dressed kids for the car shows and helped clean the cars," says Sandy.
But today, more and more women in the heavily male-dominated scene are choosing to build and drive their own cars. These vehicles, often acquired as wrecks, are restored over years of painstaking work. Expensive and rare spare parts are used in the creations, which ultimately reflect the unique personalities of their owners.
At weekends, Sandy and her club members can be found at the numerous events in Los Angeles. The candy-colored cars glisten in the sun as they drive leisurely along busy streets and through city parks, their deep basses audible for miles around. "We show off our cars, have a barbecue, chat and talk about our passion," she explains. Like many other clubs, the Lady Lowriders are also involved in the community: "We collect food for the homeless and toys for children. It's about family, cohesion and giving something back."
The Low Rider movement, which originated in Los Angeles in the late 1940s, was originally an expression of identity and creativity in the Mexican-American community and evolved into a symbol of resistance and self-assertion. These vehicles, seen as works of art on wheels, experienced a surge in popularity in the 1960s and 1970s through films, music and the media. Despite this, low riders continue to fight negative stereotypes and discrimination to this day. California's decision to legalize cruising from January 2024 and lift height restrictions is a milestone - a recognition of this form of cultural expression and a victory for the community that has been fighting for its rights and passion for decades.
Sandy Avila, 40, manager in the family business
When Sandy started accompanying her husband to events in his low rider, she quickly realized that she wanted more than just to sit in the passenger seat. "Oh my God, I want to drive myself, I want my own low rider!" After getting her own car, she was initially worried about the reactions in the scene: "Will they love me? Will they hate me? Will they tell me to fuck off?" The response was overwhelmingly positive. The mother of four wanted more - preferably a safe space specifically for women in the low rider community. In 2021, she founded the "Lady Low Rider" club. "Until recently, it was very difficult for many men to accept us women. They expected all cars to belong to men." For Sandy, the club, which now has 17 women, is more than just a group of female car enthusiasts; it is a statement for equality: "We are like sisters, united in our passion and the pursuit of less discrimination."
Jennifer Paulino, 47, Repossession Agent
"It was a disaster, very ugly and painted yellow," she remembers the condition of her 1972 Chevrolet Chevelle when Jennifer first saw it. She restored the car with great dedication. Today, it is one of the most important things in her life: "First comes my family, then my car." For Jennifer, her low rider is a form of personal expression. "I definitely didn't want a car that everyone had." While many in the low rider scene strive for awards and trophies, for Jennifer it's the everyday reactions to her car. "It makes me incredibly happy to get compliments on my car."
Mary Lopez, 45, Towing Service
"My car is pink as a symbol against cancer," says Mary, who was diagnosed with kidney cancer ten years ago and had to have a kidney removed. "I am a fighter". The mother of seven children has been married for 30 years to a Mexican man who was already in the low rider scene as a teenager. At some point he gave her a completely neglected 63 Impala, the car she had always wanted. "My late grandfather drove this car and I always loved it". She spent almost four years restoring the car with the help of countless mechanics. Chrome, paint, the upholstery. "It's an expensive hobby, but I love just cruising around at night, listening to my music. I feel free. We women always sat next to our husbands. Their cars and we are their wives. Now we have our own car."
Monique, 41, Senior Training Officer
"Low riders are my life," says Monique. She was born right into the scene and was already attending low rider meetings every weekend as a baby. "All our relatives and all generations are involved. We can drive around in our cars all day and still talk about low riders when we get home." She recently proudly left her car to her 18-year-old son, who drives it with great enthusiasm. "It's important that we pass this tradition on to our children." This also means that women must be accepted: "There were only girls in our family. Without us, there would be a gap in the generation of low riders." Monique is happy that cruising is finally being legalized, but for her there is still a long way to go: "Modified cars are still officially illegal. So the game of cat and mouse between us and the police will continue".
Tina L. Blankenship-Early, 56, Street Cleaner
Tina L. Blankenship-Early is the first woman to be inducted into the National Lowrider Hall of Fame. Her passion for cars began in the garage of her best friend's father in Los Angeles. "I always had a dream of owning a lowrider, growing up in Watts, surrounded by these amazing cars." Her most famous car, the 1966 "Game Killa" Caprice, was once just an empty chassis that she restored with her husband. "When I was almost finished, a club member said: 'Man, your car is killing the game. You should call it Game Killa!'". The car has already appeared in many music videos and made a major appearance in the movie "Straight Outta Compton". For Tina, low riders are more than just vehicles: "The design, the shape of the body: for me, low riders are a work of art."
Crystal Dominguez, 39, Laboratory Assistant
Even as a child, Crystal spent hours rummaging through low rider magazines that her two older brothers left lying around. Later, the brothers had their own Low Rider. "That inspired me" When one of her brothers tragically died of a heroin overdose two years ago, Crystal decided to build her own car - a tribute to her deceased brother. "Since then, my low rider has been a form of therapy. When I drive it around, I'm overjoyed and forget everything around me. I love going on cruises and talking to other women about cars." At the moment, Crystal is still on probation. "I have six months to prove my commitment to the other women". The hobby costs a lot of time and money, but for her it is worth every penny. "Low riding is a lifestyle you just have to love"
