Thailand LOWRIDER Culture
Finding a familiar culture far from home
A good friend of mine from Albuquerque moved to Thailand more than a decade ago. Last year, I went to visit him and make photographs. Before I left, I had seen on social media that there were lowriders in Thailand. That was all I needed to know. I sent a few messages, made a few contacts, and followed the trail.
Once I got there, I realized most of the people I had been messaging did not speak English, and I only speak a few words of Thai. Still, with a lot of help from Google Translate, which only seemed to catch about 30 percent of what was actually being said, I managed to make friends and start making pictures. I moved through Bangkok and traveled around the country, meeting people and photographing the scene as I went.
A big part of that was a chance meeting with Lu Ku, also known as Chino Loco. He opened doors, made introductions, and connected me with people in the lowrider world. What amazed me was seeing a culture so familiar to me from home, thousands of miles away in Southeast Asia. The pants were creased with the same precision I have come to appreciate. The socks were pulled up high. People hit switches in classic Impalas the same way they do back home.
I was not there to judge what the culture meant to them. What I saw was real respect for something far from where they were born, and they seemed to be living it fully. I was excited to see so many lowriders there, and even ended up driving a beautifully restored 1959 Oldsmobile in Chon Buri.
That is the thing about lowriding. It is worldwide now. I come from a place where the history runs deep, so seeing it translated across borders felt both surreal and familiar. I watched lowriders being hand-built in the jungle. I went to a tuk-tuk garage to fill a lowrider bike with air. I came looking to make photographs, and I left with a new set of friends and a tattoo.