Ree S., 43, remembers seeing his first donk as he was leaving elementary school one day. After that, he started seeing them everywhere — like when you buy a certain car, and all of a sudden it’s the only one you notice.
He didn’t ever think he’d own one; “at that time, a donk was really known as a street hustler’s car,” he says. But he got a little older, and his friend Evans, who wasn’t a street hustler, got his own donk, and Ree knew he had to follow: “When he got his, I’m like, ’Okay, my dog got his, now I got to get mine.’” He started with a box Chevy, bought his first four-door in 2009, lost it to rust, and bought a second four-door in 2011. That’s the one he still has today.
There are plenty of low-rider cars with big wheels and sick paint jobs, but donks are specific: Chevy Impalas or Caprices built between 1971 and 1976. “The paint definitely got to be wet,” Ree says, and “it got to be squatted; the back got to sit lower than the front. I feel like I got the best squat in the donk game, period.”
If you ask Ree, who grew up in Miami’s Little Haiti neighborhood, donk culture started in the city sometime in the 90s and exploded outward. He’s become a staple in the local scene, running an Instagram account with the handle @donkplanet — which blew up in part thanks to a repost from football player Chad Johnson (née Ochocinco) — as well as an annual festival called Donk Day. June 21st was the festival’s 10th anniversary, and Highsnobiety sent photographer Alexis Gross to capture the scene.
Ree S.Donks is like art on wheels. I feel like I’m an artist although I’m not the one that actually paint the car and do the interior. I’m the one taking it to the shops, I’m the one spending my money. So it’s still my vision. I feel like I’m the artist, so my donk is my canvas. I’m like, okay, I want to put that candy red paint on there. I want to do my inside — I got tweed interior. I want to do the little motor, 350, 400 motor. Put the engine in there, do the music, whatever. Once you’re done with it, now you know: this is my masterpiece.
Ree S.You go to other car shows, they have a variety of cars. But I was the first one, to my knowledge, that did a car show really dedicated to donks. And although I call it Donk Day, I don’t discriminate and try to turn away any cars. I feel like all of us went through this stage before we had a donk; before I had my donk, I had a box Chevy. Everybody started off somewhere, then eventually they graduate to the donk. I feel like the donk is the king of the jungle.
Ree S.The donk game is really elevated to another level. Back when I built my donk, it was more so you do the paint, you do the interior, you do the motor and stuff like that. But now it’s gotten to a point where a lot of people are taking the bodies off the frame and painting the bellies of the cars. Some people like the elevation, and some people would rather it be like how it used to be. I see people that get mad: oh, they’re messing up the donk game, doing all this and doing that. I’m like, man, you can’t really say they messing it up. It’s just different strokes for different folks. You wanted to be classic, build yours classic. You want to go be elite with it, build yours to that elite status. Build it to your life, build it to your liking.
Ree S.I would like to see more people come together. It’s a lot of people in the donk game; it’s somewhat divided. Certain people in the donk game be hating on certain individuals just because of their position. I would just like to see people get past all the hate. There’s people in this car world that don’t like me, for example, and they’ll try to convince other people that say they’re going to the show, yo man, man, don’t go to his show. I appreciate everybody that came. They can think for themselves.
