For our new instalment of Our Hair Don’t Care, I meet my great friend David Rivera, Studio Director at Christopher John Rogers, for a joyful conversation about the early influences that guided him to his personal concept of beauty and identity. David is a wise soul who is able to synthesize the nuances of the cultural movements that defined his parents’ upbringings, his childhood and now his own adulthood. Spending time with him is similar to gazing through a looking glass and curiously observing how realities unfold. It’s through his gift of observation and penchant for truly listening that he has developed a compelling style of storytelling, both conversationally and through his work as a designer. I love his stories of his family the most, and as I write this intro, I smile at tales of his aunts back in Puerto Rico, the safe space that his mother created in her homemade beauty salon in Southern Florida, and his father’s no-nonsense, no-logo, “Costco-loyal fashion client, but Italy is my beauty standard”, pragmatic approach to style. As for his personal journey, his self awareness was his best asset as he discovered his curls and how they positioned him within his Latin American community, the greater southern Florida West Indian community, and beyond as he eventually found himself living and expanding in New York City. Read on to discover how David is exploring his freedom of expression through his now signature tinted pink crown as captured by our photographer Katherine Pekala.
Tamu McPherson:
Darling. How are you? Are you okay? Are you, well, let's see if my laptop works… None of the connections actually work. I wanted to look cool for you for this interview, but my AirPods are dead, but it's all good. Happy Friday.
David Rivera:
It’s following the trend of the week, you know, since you've experienced more Friday than I have.
Tamu McPherson:
Yes. But I'm just laughing about it now, because what else can you do?
David Rivera:
Do you want to hear something that changed my life yesterday? Somebody that I know who lives in New Orleans was, she was working on her script, and there was an earthquake - I guess it was a tremor in New Orleans yesterday, or day before. And so she went into the bathroom to keep working. She posted about it on Instagram and she goes, what's a little earthquake? You know? She goes, it's okay. It's just jazz. And when a little bit of chaos happens, a little bit of drama, that’s my new go-to.
Tamu McPherson:
So David, thank you so much for joining us for Our Hair, Don’t Care. We always start these conversations by asking about where you’re from, where you grew up, about your family, your background.
David Rivera:
I grew up in south Florida, Fort Lauderdale to be specific, which is interesting because depending on who you talk to here in the United States, everyone has a different perception of what that is. I grew up as a first generation - at least mainland - Puerto Rican. My mother and my father moved to Florida in ‘88, I wanna say ‘87, ‘88. And because Spanish was all they spoke, my father with just a tiny bit of English, their whole life, their whole community, became the Latinos in South Florida.
Also where I grew up was mainly West Indians. So the Fort Lauderdale that I grew up in was okay. The world I knew was only Latino immigrants and West Indians. That's all I knew. As I got older, I learned that there were other people that were living very different lives in South Florida, based on socioeconomic status, race and other factors.
I come from a very large family, but the family that I grew up with was actually quite small. It's just my parents and my sister, and we just had each other for the longest. Then cousins started to move to Florida from Puerto Rico. And the immediate family grew, which was exciting. My father is an adopted only child, born and raised on the island in Puerto Rico. And my mother is the last of 16 kids. So their family and experiences were very different. My mother is never short for stories!
Tamu McPherson:
Your mom probably is such a great storyteller, and impacts the way that you tell your story in the world, and the way you observe.
David Rivera:
I think also just culturally, we're storytellers. I feel like that's also true for most West Indians. Like Puerto Ricans, in regard to accuracy…. and lots of other West Indians are like this. They don't really care. Accuracy is sometimes irrelevant.
West Indians, when they tell you a story, the story is only ever going to be about politics or the weather, or family drama. Those are the three. And family drama includes neighbor drama, village drama. None of it is very deep, it's almost always very superficial. But because of our dialect, it's so beautiful, and bigger, you know.
Tamu McPherson:
They lend themselves really well to storytelling.
David Rivera:
Exactly. So I think that is what I know - I can make anything sound exciting.
My father loves history and he loves family history, and he knows about all of his aunts and uncles on the island and who did what. And that's also because my father was raised in a family that was very big on their history. My father was raised by a family that could trace their entire family to Spain only a few generations prior. Whereas my mother's family is ethnically Puerto Rican, through and through. That kind of history-keeping is a little bit different. But my father loves to recount family history, and I think that that instilled that whole idea of the importance of storytelling and what it means to a family.
Tamu McPherson:
Do you ever think about how you will share your childhood and adolescence and young adulthood with your younger cousins, your niece and your daughter's children? With these younger generations, to help them find themselves in this world?
David Rivera:
I actually do, quite a bit, and I think that has become more important to me, or has at least come to the front of my mind as I get older. I have a very good memory, but I also feel like I'm forgetting things. And I'm nervous that I'll forget, because I know how special my father feels when he recounts.
I love how excited he is to know that all these people somehow had a hand in my life, right? Or how my mother will talk about any one of her many siblings or nieces and nephews, and how she grew up in this whole Puerto Rican experience of how people lived after the Spanish American War, and then what the life was like when the United States really started to take more control over the island and implement government programs.
All of these details are so exciting to me, because I guess I do see the relevancy in it that I get nervous that I can't remember at all because I feel a lot of pressure, because I do enjoy the shared history. And what really changes things is when you choose to look back, and find the why behind the what, and learn a little more.
Tamu McPherson:
I do feel like Gen Z has to go through this phase that they're in now in order to do an about face, to get back into going deeper into the why. I guess it's a necessary part of our evolution.
David Rivera:
Right. Also I think there is always just so much information readily available on the internet for us to learn from, but not always “facts”. I have always been fascinated by what “historical facts” I can access, and then put that next to how someone remembers something. Because I think that individual perspective that comes only from experiencing it, is just as real as what was recorded in terms of history. But as far as I'm concerned, the stories that families tell are also recorded history. They're just kind of recorded in our minds or in our culture, or through our food. Right. So what are the elements of life that well
Tamu McPherson:
Spoken history is important historical documentation. Obviously there are inaccuracies that might come along with it, but it is the way that a lot of culture gets preserved. And I think your desire to remember historical facts is a very subjective thing, knowing you as a friend. But in today’s world, you are often expected to be able to provide accurate information at the drop of a hat. So there’s added pressure to every story. I am always nervous to post anything that I haven’t fact-checked, because we have that responsibility.
I feel like what you're saying is that there is a balance to be struck, especially with this new generation. They discount our experiences a lot, because we seem so old to them. And our experiences seem very foreign because they happened so long ago, 10 years ago.
David Rivera:
I think it's maybe not that they discount what we know, but we discount the veracity of how people can recount history, because we have also been living in an age over the last 10 years where so much has been “revealed” to the public. Like talking about how so many people had no idea that people were being treated like this by police officers. And this was a “truth” that was allegedly revealed to people, which I believe is true. But then there's other people who are like, we've known this the whole time. So I think just this younger generation takes everything with a heaping tablespoon of salt.
People believe, oh, well, you just don't understand the larger context of what was going on in the world, and that's why you think that. Even I've had to have those conversations with my parents and it's like, you were taught this thing and you believe this thing, but what maybe you didn't realize was this larger thing that was happening. And sometimes that is the case and it's like, oh, I never thought of it like that. Because my world was so small. The world is so much bigger now.
Tamu McPherson:
Who are the major figures that informed your self image? This is such a huge factor in beauty and identity.
David Rivera:
It's my father and my mother. I think my mother sometimes felt like growing up she was the ugly duckling or she was a bit of a black sheep, being the youngest of so many. But she is very beautiful. And I think as she got older, she really leaned into that. She and my father got married young by today's standards, but old by our standards. I think she was 23 when she got married. Her relationship with my father and then them choosing to leave the island and kind of like, leave all of that behind and start something of their own, I believe was very difficult for them, but also very empowering. And so I feel like it wasn't until she really got here to the mainland that my mother really started to explore more of her sexuality through beauty.
Because we grew up in a very, conservative Christian community. And especially in those days, it was like, you don't cut your hair, you don't dye your hair, you don't wear earrings, you don't show your knees. If you're going to the beach, you're putting a t-shirt on. There are no bikinis happening here. No one-piece swimsuits. So, over time I got to kind of see my mother evolve, from a personal standpoint, but also in aesthetics.
My mother never left the house without heels on. She loves her hair, and she loves putting together a little outfit, because she feels empowered by it. And that kind of like, I'm never leaving the house without looking nice comes from my mother, but also my father. My father. Everyone has their own sense of style, but my father is not a stylish person. My father doesn't know the first or the last thing about clothing, fashion, but my father, he didn't want to see any holes in our jeans. He didn't want us to ever wear any clothes that had a brand name on it. He says, You wanna be a walking billboard. That's so stupid. Tommy Hilfiger was not allowed in the house. Nike was not allowed in the house. Adidas is not allowed in. And this is the nineties, Fort Lauderdale - this is logo mania.
Your car better be clean and your shoes better be clean and everyone wants to look fly. And my father was like, I'm not having none of that. He's like, that's why I get my clothes from Costco. I'm like, okay dad! All that being said, my father, he never left the house without his clothing pressed. And if I ever left the house and I didn't like having my shirt steamed or my pants pressed, he was like, you're leaving?
Let me tell you something. There's a lot about fashion that a lot of cultures don't understand because like, why do you want to look dirty? And then two, why do you wanna spend money to look like you have none? And to this day, I am the same way. There are a lot of designers that put a lot of work out there and I know a lot of people who dress in a particular type of way who have a lot more money than I do.
And I have no understanding as to why you wanna look like you don't have a house. Being first generation, you don't ever want to, not consider the sacrifice. You always consider the fact that you will be judged and that you are being perceived differently than your American counterparts. One of the best things my mother's ever told me is, whoever told you that what people say about you doesn't matter isn't true. What people think about you matters a lot. So you need to be careful what you do.
I think what my mother understood and understands, is that you can be the smartest person. You can be the kindest person. You can be very polite. You can have manners. But if you say or do one small wrong thing out of irrationality, or if your hair is not appropriate for the context or if your clothing or your outfit is not appropriate, that's what people will remember.
And I think she recognized how fickle people can be and how dangerous things can be when you work so hard to say, don't pay attention to this. Pay attention to how smart I am, or pay attention to what I'm doing, not how I look. I was listening yesterday to Michelle Obama talking about that. She did that recorded panel with Kelly Roland and Miss Tina Lawson and I think Winnie Harlow was there. Michelle was talking about her book and Angie Martinez asked, why didn't you ever wear braids in the White House? And she was like, girl, I fist bumped my husband and they called us terrorists.
She said, so I straightened my hair and I kept my bob. She's like, I did protective styles so I wasn't damaging my curl pattern, but I would rather you pay attention to what I'm doing than what I'm wearing. While also knowing that they're going to pay attention to what you're wearing regardless. They're going to talk about your hair regardless. So you might as well look nice and you know, pick and choose the conversations.
Tamu McPherson:
To be intentional about when you want the distraction.
So your dad has greatly influenced your beauty identity and expression. Where were you guys cutting your hair when you were growing up?
David Rivera:
My dad could tell you this whole story, because he loves to tell these stories. This barbershop had just opened up at the very start of the 90s near where we grew up. And it was this Italian barber, named Roberto from Calabria. And I don't know what made my father go into this barbershop. I should ask him when I see him next week. But, that is where my father got his haircut for almost 25 years. So when I came around, that is where my dad brought me.
My dad is like me. He loves to learn, and he loves to meet new people and he loves to learn about different cultures. I think he was just so fascinated as a Puerto Rican to be in an environment that was so not Puerto Rican, but also was not the white America that he knew of, and to meet another immigrant from Europe. And my dad loved being in this barbershop and being told and taught about Italy. So that is where he wanted to bring me. So for 14 years I got my hair cut by some old man named Roberto in an Italian barbershop.
It was interesting because it wasn't that stereotypical, you know, Puerto Rican barbershop experience where all the guys are hanging out and they're saying crazy shit about women, or they're just talking shit in general. The dynamic in that barbershop was very different from what I knew was happening in the barbershops my other family members were going to, and that definitely shaped what I was comfortable around. But it also allowed me an opportunity to see myself differently than a stereotype, which I appreciated.
When I was 5 or 6, I had a side part and my mother would slather my head with all of this coconut cream and I would go to school smelling like coconuts and shea butter to hold, because we weren't using gel. What my mom knew, that was what she was putting in my hair. And I would have a side part and these waves, but I didn't know that the waves came from a curl pattern. But then I wanted to start going to Roberto, and then what happened was, instead of going to the side, I was basically getting my father's haircut, which is short on the sides and in the back, but then length on top and brushing it straight back.
The thing is, my hair is very different from my father's. My father's hair has a much looser curl. It's almost wavy. And what I did not know was that my hair had much tighter curls, so I could only keep my hair so long before I started to curl. So I, it was like a short cut that was brushed back. I was looking crazy, but the only thing that could keep my hair back was gel. So for 13 years I was brushing my hair back with gel. I had to wear so much gel.
So I got to a point where I was getting older, I was getting taller, I slimmed out and I wanted to try something else. My friends from church who would make fun of me and my old man haircut. I was like, this guy is 70 years old. I cannot keep getting my haircut by this man. He won't understand what it is that I want. So I went and I got my haircut at a hair salon. And I was like, okay, like I want it short on the sides, a little longer on the top. And it was fine. I knew that that change was gonna be hard, and it wasn't gonna look good. But I took it for what it was worth. And then as my hair got a little bit longer on top, I started to notice my curls and I was like, huh, what is happening?
Now at this point now my hair is probably two inches long. It was long enough now where my curls are shrinking. I went once again to another hair salon, and this woman did not know what to do with my hair. She kept making it shorter and shorter and shorter. And I was so devastated, I cried, and I did not cut my hair for over a year. And that is when I found out just how curly my hair was, and also just how fast my hair grew. In a year it went from being like a centimeter long, to my shoulders. It was like it wanted to explode.
That's when I learned about shrinkage, that's when I learned about how shrinkage depends on moisture and what type of moisture you're using, whether it's a cream or an oil or water. I also learned about how you might like this curl in the front, but that's not what the back looks like. And whatever's happening in the back, she wants to do whatever she wants to do. And I also learned about how I, when I would fall asleep on the bus at five o'clock in the morning, how busted I was looking by 7, because my whole side of my head was flat.
Tamu McPherson:
I would say mixed cultures and communities have different hair patterns on one head. And see, that's important.
David Rivera:
You know, it was interesting because no one knew what my curl pattern was. No one really knew what my real hair was because of how short I had kept it for so long. And my mother had such big, curly hair. My father had his Afro in the 70s, but my curls were tighter than my mother's. And I don't think anybody really knew that until I grew my hair out. And then it became this frustration with me that I didn't know how to care for my texture. It was like the 80s version of Halle Berry in Their Eyes Were Watching God. But mine was curlier and I didn't know what products to use and my mother had fully moved into this look that she had solidified herself, which was an asymmetrical bob in the style of Victoria Beckham in 2007.
For the first time I was shopping in “that part” of the aisle. And I'm putting air quotes because everyone knows that it's when the color of the products change, are locked up, and this is really when I started to see how things were treated differently and how products were treated differently based on the consumer.
My mother came from the era when there was no buying creams. You put the olive oil with the mayonnaise in the blender, and then you smear that stuff on your hair to hydrate it, no mask, you know? Yes. So all of these products are so foreign to my mom to a degree, having grown up poor in Puerto Rico. It was just all such a new territory for me. But I am so grateful for that opportunity that I chose to give myself, to go through that ugly phase where I got to really learn about myself, and where I stood.
Tamu McPherson:
Your mother was your community's hairstylist and you grew up with her caring for the women and the girls in your community. I'm pretty sure that it influenced you in a way that you use today in your work and in making women beautiful in the clothes that you design. Is there a connection there?
David Rivera:
I definitely think so. Again, my mother instilled in me the importance of self-expression and also flair. And I think that that's something that was so ubiquitous in the 80s and 90s,and maybe got a little bit lost at some point after the mid 2000s. There was an excessive amount of flair happening in the early 2000s.
My parents were extremely supportive of my artistic abilities and my desire to explore art as a form of self-expression, and also from an academic standpoint.
My mother and my father always made sure to make our home a safe space. So a lot of women who had much kinkier hair than my mother would come to the house for their blowouts. She did it with such care and she did it with such respect. The immigrant women who were new to the country had yet to find places that they could go, because also, as we all know, salons can be very expensive. My mother wouldn't ask for money, it was just about these women coming together and feeling safe to express themselves through hair.
Because my mother had the adolescent experience that she did, where she felt sort of like an ugly duckling, it took her a long time to really find her own voice and to build that level of self-confidence. She really wanted to instill in us confidence in the people that we were before we started to change who we were. Because we all change who we are. We find those things to do to make ourselves feel better or to assimilate or to provoke. I think my mother subconsciously knew, I want my kids to love themselves the way that they are before they choose to make any adjustments.
I had this conversation with my father about a month ago, a very serious conversation. I said, dad, do you feel like because you've been here so long that you're less of a Latino? Or that you have less say in certain things? And he revealed that concern to me, which I found to be so profound. As immigrants who really value their culture, where they come from, that insecurity reveals itself in smaller ways. And I think that my mom was like, no matter what, however long we're in this country for or who we become friends with or how our community looks, I want you to be proud of who you are.
Tamu McPherson:
The pandemic gave you a level of personal freedom to begin experimenting with hair color. Does this color freedom, like the freedom you experience when you began to grow your hair out, is this a new phase?
David Rivera:
You know, my life is very different today than it was four years ago. Four years ago I was working a full-time job, still getting paid nothing, while also trying to create Christopher John Rogers, the brand, alongside Christopher and Christina and Alexandra. But I had so little money. And I remember also when I moved to New York City, how much even less money I had. It's interesting how your socioeconomic status affects the way that you look or you choose to care for yourself, and how you prioritize your aesthetic, right? Some people are like, okay, I'm gonna spend my money on my hair, or I'm gonna spend money on my clothes.
For me, it was always food and rent. I refused to spend money on clothing and I refused to spend money on my hair. So when I first moved to New York City, it was so expensive to try and find someone to cut my curls. This $40 haircut or $35 haircut is not worth the stress that it is inducing on my life. So that was when I first shaved my head, I was 22.
And it was because of money. I was like, now I feel like my money is being better spent because now all I have to do is get a barber who can do a skin fade, which I felt like I could find and be comfortable with, as opposed to trying to find a barber who knew how to manage my curls. And I was able to lean into the sensuality of that look - I feel like there's something very sexy about seeing a skin fade on a man. I tend to be quiet with the way that I dress, compared to some of my friends, who are extremely expressive through their looks. I tend to be a little bit more pared back.
The pandemic came around and my hair was short enough where I felt like if I could dye it, it wasn't gonna cost me much money. And so I dyed my hair hot pink at the time. I was very well known for my hot pink beanie and my pink bandana. So I was like, I'll do pink hair. And I have been doing hot pink or coral hair now for almost three years, and this has been such a different and exciting part of my life because I walk down the street and people are looking at me and I forget why. And I remember it's because of my hair. I used to live so much of my life hoping that no one would look at me. And now I'm kind of at this point in my life where I don't mind if you look. It’s okay to take up space and it is okay to express yourself even further.
Cutting my hair short and dying my hair feels the same way that it felt when I grew my hair out and I had these big curls. It's like people are talking about the way that I look, which is always something that I was afraid of. And now I'm embracing it, because I see it as an opportunity also to talk about other things. Now it's a vehicle for me to talk about self-expression and a vehicle to talk about freedom through expression, as we're doing now. And I don't know what the next look or a stage of my life will offer that same type of excitement or that same type of growth, but I am interested.
