“Either I Make It or Die Trying” Beatrice Domond’s Skateboarding Story

by Matthew Becerra

Photo by Matthew Becerra

Beatrice Domond’s story isn’t built on shortcuts or safety nets, just a relentless drive that left no room for backup plans and a defiance of the egos that once tried to box her out. Her rise from solo Florida sessions to being on her dream sponsors isn’t a sudden success, but a slow burn of style, grit, and conviction. 

The seed for her passion was a prop on school picture day: “I just grabbed the skateboard and thought it was cool… for the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about it” 

Early visual influences—Rocket Power and scattered TV glimpses, mixed with solitary Florida sessions: “I just grew up skating by myself… watching videos” Domond said “I kind of just kept researching more and more about skating.”

Tunnel vision defined her adolescence, she never truly kept a backup plan.

“Either I make it in skateboarding or die on the way to becoming a pro skateboarder. So either way, my life is fulfilled,” Domond said “I did not have a plan B this had to work out.”

Domond locates herself right in the cusp between pre‑internet ritual and the digital age in skating . She acknowledges the internet’s utility for connection and accelerated learning but warns it “loses the essence of skateboarding,” a culture she insists “is very community” and people centric.

The clipped illusion of perfection bothers her, a one‑second clip might have taken “five hours, maybe five months” but online it plays as the first try.

She contrasts premieres, demos, and waiting for a video—“that’s the kind of skateboarding I fell in love with, it just felt cool and real” she said against the curated feed, “I don’t really like the internet, skateboarding’s better done in real life.”

Video of Hockey IV Demo/Premier at Cowtown Skate Shop

“People think I literally came out of nowhere, I've been on FA when it was just me, Sean, Sage and Aidan.”

Geographic distance caused this. In her opinion she had a “slow start because I didn’t live in L.A. and New York… I lived in Florida” delaying momentum until recurring New York trips cemented belonging.

She values the gradual path to being pro, unlike those “pushed into the machine,” she  got to grow and become the person she is today before higher exposure.

Turning pro came with negativity online mainly from “men in skateboarding” with “low self esteem and small egos,” reacting when “a woman has something that they want so bad they have a visceral reaction” said Domond, “these boys are just hurt that they'll never, ever, ever have this.”

Her perspective is psychological once she understood why they reacted like that, it “no longer… affects” her, she said “Your comment doesn’t pay my bills… I wake up and I get to skateboard for a living”

She flips nitpicking with a mirror, “Your favorite skater does his same five tricks too… everybody has thei go‑to’s,  you’re just nitpicking at mine.”

The pro transition created a brief existential crisis for Domond after turning pro she asked, “what do you do now that you’re here?” 

Until a grounding conversation with AVE clarified that “you just do the exact same thing when you were 14 years old, but harder.” said Domond

Image of Domond and AVE after Domond went pro via @BeatriceDomond

That means not waiting around for a filmer or photographer to text “You don’t wait. You call somebody and you go get your trick," said Domond.

She keeps a folder of spot photos with the intended trick scribbled on each but the difference now is an expanded support web, company backing, trusted friends, and the confidence to initiate sessions, build parts piece by piece, and treat planning as another creative practice rather than a burden.

Evolution in her skating is noticeable, she said she replaced a flip-trick phase with prioritizing aesthetics. 

Doing “tricks that are comfortable that look good and make sense” and are instantly recognizable in a single photo.

She dislikes ambiguous frames like a switch hard flip mid-rotation where the trick becomes unclear in photos—preferring a trick with a clean silhouette.

Reflecting on past gatekeeping in skaitng, like people’s backlash to Rihanna wearing Thrasher, Domond’s shifted from teenage exclusivity to advocating for openness in skating.

A celebrity co‑sign might lead one girl to picking up a board, which she calls “a beautiful thing”.

Recent changes at FA/Hockey have become another personal exercise in accepting change for Domond. 

She still loves the original makeup of the brand, it’s the reason she wanted to be there, but she’s energized by new pro’s like Jake, Curren and low‑profile am’s such as Cruise Mosberg, whose roughly 3,000 followers underscore what she sees as purity. 

“They genuinely love skateboarding, in it for the right reasons,” said Domond

Mosberg’s modest digital footprint isn’t a liability but it’s proof of a build‑not‑buy mentality where a brand helps make the star instead of importing pre‑assembled clout. 

She frames her own trajectory the same way, she didn’t start off with today’s visibility, she became that through slow growth with her sponsors.

She called Vans her dream sponsor, now with seven colorways and an original silhouette she called them “the number one skateboard brand” in her mind.

Behind the scenes of Domonds Zahba Mid design via @BeatriceDomond

Her design process is autobiographical, the loafer-inspired OTW model emerged because she often came to the office in some loafers and ties directly to Haitian heritage.

“I put the map of Haiti in the shoe did the commercial in Miami at my grandma’s house” Domond said, “The first loafer that I had out was like my mom's favorite quilt on her bed.”

Domond’s commercial for her OTW loafer with Vans

Family support is a structural pillar. Her grandmother only fully grasped her career after seeing that commercial, responding “okay, you’re doing okay,” while her mother was always supportive and deliberately countered stricter generational immigrant expectations of doctor/lawyer tracks by enabling passion pursuit.

That maternal philosophy—letting kids “do what they want to do”—is emphasized with train travel to the Cherry premiere by her mother due to early flight nervousness from a young Domond, a formative shared journey between mother and daughter.

Domond sits at a rare intersectionpart archivist of the feel‑it‑in‑person era, part architect of what comes next, channeling the same 14‑year‑old hunger, just “harder,” into parts, product, and a more open culture. 

Her workflow is compartmentalized, “I’m doing this part for Vans… once it’s done, move it on,” maintaining focus while continuously skating. 

Parallel creative projects include curating an art show slated for the end of the year and producing a new hybrid zine—“half photography, half… art and writing”—following her 2020 photo book chronicling pre‑2020 life, with five years of images now ready to surface. 

She’s still the kid who grabbed a board on picture day and couldn’t stop thinking about it—only now she’s curating which stories get told, inviting new faces in, and showing that progression isn’t just higher impact or harder flip variations. 

It’s clarity, authorship and making skating legible/irresistible to whoever wanders past.

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