Bajito y Suavecito

Lowriders have a certain magic about them. Perched just inches off the ground, they cruise through the streets in that Sunday-drive-no-hurry kind of way, catching the glint of the sun and turning heads. The glistening custom paint jobs, chrome embellishment, spoked tires and whitewalls forge a work of art on wheels that often inspires a well-timed "Dayum!" And, if you stare long enough, the driver will likely give a slight nod of the chin, as if to say, "Orale."

"Who wouldn't want a work of art?" Grace Martinez asks, talking about her own connection to lowrider culture. She, along with Carlos Muñoz and Arcenio Vargas, is organizing the upcoming Lowrider Day, a celebration hitting its third year that will line the streets of the Santa Fe Plaza at 11 am on Saturday May 26. The first official Lowrider Day took place on May 22, 2016 in tandem with a pair of exhibitions at the New Mexico Museum of Art, and the New Mexico History Museum. With that first Lowrider Day, then-mayor Javier Gonzalez read a proclamation recognizing the pachucos and pachucas who've made lowrider culture their life.

With a chuckle and a sense of earnestness, Muñoz describes the outside perception lowriders have often faced. "People see lowriders and they see trouble," he says. That perception goes back decades, and may have something to do with those first lowriders who began the tradition of cruising the streets—pachucos. Since their inception in the 1930s, back when Mexican Americans first donned the zoot suit, pachucos have stood as countercultural subversives who rebelled against the mainstream. The hypernationalism of the 1940s that led to the deportation of millions of Mexicans and Mexican Americans through government repatriation programs was at the root of the bitter xenophobia many zoot-suiters faced; that came to a head in Los Angeles' infamous Zoot Suit Riots in June of 1943.

As a point of pride and survival, pachucos began crafting cars at first weighed down with cinder blocks and sandbags to get what would become a signature look. Then came the signature cruise line, a bajito y suavecito paseo through neighborhoods that literally put the car and its driver on display. The lackadaisical crawl of the lowrider became what speed is to a hotrod aficionado.

Stereotypes about lowriders as criminal offenders have no doubt been built on a history of misonception, persisting in visual culture, like film. From 1992's American Me to the most recent offering, 2016's Lowriders, cinematic sketches of lowriders recycle a similar template where gangs and jail time are expected story devices. Despite the the negative idea of who lowriders are, whether cholos, pachucos or otherwise, Muñoz is quick to insist that as a lifestyle, building cars "keeps kids from getting into trouble. It steers you away from anything negative."

And, as both he and Martinez relate, building lowriders is a family affair. Martinez can even pinpoint the year when she first built her own car with her husband: 1978. Later, when he enlisted in the US army, Martinez, who lives in La Puebla, would cruise to the Big Rock Shopping Center in Española, where she snapped pictures of her sons and her 1976 Monte Carlo. She sent the pictures to her husband at his army base. Today she proudly claims that both of her sons are lowriders and has  plans for building a lowrider bike with her grandson. "It's special, generational," she says. "A family thing."

Passing down the love for lowriders is almost like passing down a genetic trait. For Muñoz, it was his cousins who first introduced him to the cars and culture. "I was fascinated with the paint jobs," he muses. And since high school, he has always owned a custom car. Not only that, but building cars developed into a business, Muñoz Customs (1285 Clark Road, 570-0921). Walking in, customers are greeted by a shimmering candy-colored sign lined with blue lights. "Muñoz" is emblazoned across the center in white cursive script.

This year's Lowrider Day is hosted by Southwest Promotionz, which Muñoz and Vargas helm. Attendees can expect at least 75 cars, an award show for multiple car, bike, and truck categories, T-shirt sales, and some eye-popping vehicle designs. No doubt, the Virgin of Guadalupe will make an appearance, emanating from a hood or a trunk like a vision from the sacred hill of Tepeyac itself.

"Everyone is welcome to participate," Muñoz tells SFR, referring to observers and lowriders alike. He hopes that hosting Lowrider Day on the Plaza will invite Santa Fe residents to a place that can have the feel of being only for tourists. "I want to bring locals to our downtown area," he emphasizes. And at the end of the day, Martinez and Muñoz plan a cruise line, where proud lowriders can do what they do best—ride low and slow.

Lowrider Day 2018
11 am-4 pm Saturday May 26. Free.
Santa Fe Plaza,
100 Old Santa Fe Trail.