David Cruz: The Oaxaqueño Mixteco Wedding Photographer in Los Angeles

My family and I immigrated from Santa Cruz Xoxocotlán, Oaxaca to Los Angeles in early 1993, just months after the '92 L.A. Riots, and lived in the MacArthur Park Rampart area two blocks away from the Original Tommy's on Beverly & Rampart for a few years before moving to South Central. And while I'm a Mexicant country bumpkin at heart, I'm a certified Beverly Hillbilly for serving time in the LAUSD — all twelve years — the second largest and worst-ranked school district in the nation.

From grade school in Historic Filipinotown, where I learned to read and write in English, to John Muir Middle School on Vermont & 60th, where I picked up my street smarts, to George Washington Preparatory High School on 108th & Normandie, where I became the reluctant optimist I am today. I even did a few years at East Los Angeles College while I lived in East LA for a decade, surviving on $20 a month and random street tacos as I completed the business administration program, though I never officially graduated.

Either way, on the branding and marketing side, I credit much of what I know to East Los Angeles College, from 2015 to 2019 where I took courses in film and commercial photography — because you always have to go back to the basics — as well as marketing, business management, and even a brief stint in accounting.

When asked why I'm a wedding photographer I say, "Honestly, I don't know. It pays the rent, I guess." But back on March 11, 2003, at the Crenshaw Mall, after picking up a copy of Sing the Sorrow, while skimming through magazines at Waldenbooks, I read a Men's Health article ranking photographer as the sexiest job for men. It was all the convincing I needed. I was in 10th grade. Not long after, I started documenting my friends and high school shenanigans on Kodak disposable cameras. Months later, my dad got me a Kodak EasyShare DX6340 from the Best Buy on Pico & Sawtelle, to photograph the local ska and punk scene.

In late 2004, I asked my mom for a Nikon film camera. Why a Nikon specifically? Because when I was in 5th grade in 1997, I saw the Nikon F5 in The Lost World: Jurassic Park at the cinema on Pacific & Gage in Huntington Park. Fast forward to 2005, 12th grade, my mom got me the Nikon N75 from Ritz Camera in the Fox Hills Mall. Coincidentally, I ended up working at Ritz Camera in the Beverly Center not long after, where I learned to print and color-correct 35mm film on Fuji Frontier optical printers and scanners. And with that dead-end salary, I was able to get my dream camera, the one I saw on the big screen all those years ago: the Nikon F5. The same F5 I still use today.

And while Sarah Harding from The Lost World inspired the camera I should own, the Nikon F5, with Men's Health later giving me that random cosmic push to be a photographer, the person who cemented the idea of becoming a professional (wedding and fashion) photographer as a career — even down to the camera bag I use today, Domke — was, of all people, Matty from 13 Going on 30. Which I saw in 2004 on a bootleg DVD my dad bought on the street.

Everything I know about the technical side of 35mm film photography, and most importantly, how I collaborate with wedding clients, I learned in large part from working in retail. From 2005 to 2015, I worked at four camera stores: Ritz Camera at the Beverly Center, King Photo Supply in Lancaster, and finally La Cañada Camera and Samy's Camera in Pasadena.

In between that time, I was also a photo lab technician at three of four of those shops, where I developed, scanned, and printed film. Experience that became invaluable as a film wedding photographer because I wasn't just selling cameras to photographers; I was seeing the results of the decisions they made. If someone chose the wrong film, exposed it incorrectly, made a mistake with their camera settings, or otherwise had a problem with their photographs, I was the one who had to figure out what went wrong to see what could be salvaged. And towards the end of this saga I was even editor at a high-end wedding photography studio in Glendale for a few years too. A story for another time.

Working at these camera stores for nearly a decade is why I was able to develop such a high level of technical skill photographing an entire wedding exclusively on Kodak 35mm film — and doing so with extreme confidence. I learned by selling the right camera to my customers, answering their questions, understanding what they actually needed, and, ultimately, correcting their mistakes in the lab when I developed, scanned, and printed their film.

And while my technical confidence in 35mm film photography comes from years of solving real photographic problems for other photographers of all genres, my people skills and emotional intelligence — simply put my ability to read and collaborate with people — came from years of dealing with every kind of customer imaginable in those ten years at said camera stores.

So despite my goofy brand name, my clients consistently leave detailed reviews describing me as one of the calmest, most respectful, patient, open minded, and sweetest photographers they have ever collaborated with — and one of the strongest listeners. Because in retail, you never know who's going to walk through that door each day. You have no idea what they'll need, what they're going through personally, what they'll ask, how they'll ask it, or what kind of person you're about to meet. You just have to be ready for anything, remain calm under pressure and most importantly, never take things personally.

Retail taught me that being a good Southern California wedding photographer isn't just about knowing the craft. It taught me not to assume I know what someone needs. I listen first. A simple and practical mindset that has stayed with me since launching The Drunk Wedding Photographer in 2023. Every wedding, every client, and every family is a little bit different but similar at the same time. Either way, I don't assume they all want the same experience or communicate the same way, even though some do. Nevertheless, I listen, pay attention, adapt, meet people where they are at, and solve the problem in front of me with a practical and simple solution.

Sometime after 2013, I spent a few years working in the fashion industry in Downtown Los Angeles as a commercial and fashion photographer, mostly with smaller brands. And because small brands don't have endless production budgets, I wore a lot of hats: Creative Director, talent casting, stylist, branding consultant, photographer, editor, social media manager, and whatever else needed to be done that day. I was essentially the head of a creative department of one, which meant I had to learn how all of those disciplines worked together rather than only my little corner of the process.

But thanks to these indie productions, I learned to visualize and execute the entire process from beginning to end, concept to print — real-world experience I carried over into my film wedding photography. As a result, I now see weddings as day-long fashion look-book campaigns, approaching them like editorial productions. Meaning, the second a client inquires, I'm already thinking about the visual story, the styling, the people, the location, the details, the composition, the pacing, the way everything fits together, and ultimately what the finished body of work is going to feel like.

I quietly pay attention to everything. Is the boutonniere on the correct side of the jacket? Are the groom's shoelaces tucked in? Does his tie have a dimple? Details that actually matter, not the five different angles of the table settings plus one from the drone. I look for the details most people miss in wardrobe and styling, something I learned to see instinctively from years of working in fashion. Accumulated experience across different disciplines that becomes apparent in the finished cohesive body of work. It's also why it should come as no surprise that my clients' weddings continue to get picked up for publication time and time again.

The philosophy — or the WHY — behind The Drunk Wedding Photographer — the street tacos, Mezcal culture, and even the anti-consumerism stance — was shaped during the decade I spent in East Los Angeles, living a block away from the Maravilla King Taco while studying business management and marketing at East Los Angeles College. During that time, I was a fashion photographer in Downtown L.A. and photographed weddings on the side.

And as an Oaxaca native who grew up between MacArthur Park, South Central, and East L.A., the foundation for the brand was already there: taking wedding pictures on Kodak film with my Nikon F5, and appreciating the micro-cultures that make Los Angeles what it is. The ideas existed long before the brand name did. But because my previous brand was positioned as a more traditional luxury wedding brand, I never found a way to bring those influences together into a single identity.

That changed in early 2022 when I was hand-selected to assist at a wedding not because I was a film wedding photographer, but because I knew Mezcal. The client was Lee Eisenberg — one of the writers of The Office — and Emile Jane Fox, and Mezcal played a major role throughout the two-night wedding. On my way to the welcome dinner at Canter's on Fairfax, while sitting in traffic on the 170, I saw a cardboard sign hanging from an overpass that read Mexican Roofer dot com, and I thought: that's stupid genius. Nobody forgets a name like that.

Later that night, after several visits to the Mezcal bar, the bartenders seemed equally impressed and amused that I was drinking Mezcal neat like nothing. The following evening, at the wedding in the Hollywood Hills, the same bartenders shouted, "Back for more, Mr. Drunk Wedding Photographer!?" after what had to be my twentieth visit to the Mezcal bar with my Nikon F5 on hand. The wedding was then, of course, published on Vogue. So I guess you could say I've been featured in Vogue — twice removed.

And all of this couldn't have happened at a more perfect time. Because my previous brand had been under a .net domain — my dumb ass had let the .com expire — I was already considering a complete rebrand when lightning struck. I remembered that cardboard sign and what the bartender had called me at Lee's wedding. That's when I knew those four simple words distilled my entire philosophy into a single brand name. And on January 1, 2023, I launched The Drunk Wedding Photographer dot com.