Douglas Miles: Always & Forever
Barbie boxes, suitcases, and skateboards. Using the kind of canvases that carry history—people, clothes, loved ones—Douglas Miles Sr. challenges the narrative. Residing on the San Carlos Apache Nation in Arizona, Miles established the first Native American skateboarding team and company in 2002, Apache Skateboards.
His work, from photography, to fine art, to film, to clothing, and skateboard design, intentionally showcases Native American people as they are.
Forced Removal Series Installation, 2023.
15 vintage suitcases, spray paint, and applique.
Height varies.
THE LAB MAG: Could tell us a little bit about you and your history?
DOUGLAS MILES: My name is Douglas Miles Sr. I am an enrolled member of the San Carlos Apache Nation. I live and work in Arizona on the San Carlos Apache Reservation. I've been a fine artist for over 30 years. I started pretty much the first Native American skateboard company. I know there are people that never really think about it like that, but I do. When I started the skateboard brand, Apache Skateboards, I didn't see anyone else doing skateboards, at least no Native people doing skateboard design.
Because of skateboarding, I'm also a clothing, garment, and graphic designer. A photographer and a filmmaker. I'm also a public artist; I do large format murals with spray paint. Also, I’m a footwear designer. I work closely with the Apache Skateboards skate team—we do demos, we travel to different Native American communities. And we also travel and work with non-Native communities.
THE LAB MAG: Why suitcases? What first made you print on suitcases?
DOUGLAS MILES: I think I just like the design. Suitcases have a handle and a little latch. And you can carry stuff in it, so it's also useful. When you have something kind of vintage-y, it carries with it a lot of memories for people. It carries history, and there’s some nostalgia attached to it too, so it's kind of appealing to that. It feels like you're looking at something historical, with a lot of character to it. When you think about all the memories we hold; there was a time in people’s lives where we literally carried our whole lives in a suitcase. Even now, if you went overseas and if they lose your luggage, you’re in big trouble. It's not cool.
The suitcases are a humble reminder of how much of our lives we carry around with us.
Apache Skateboards, 2000-2024.
Skateboard decks, digital color photographs, aerosol spray paint.
Size varies.
THE LAB MAG: What came first for you, skateboarding or art?
DOUGLAS MILES: At thirteen, my friend down the street had a skateboard and I saw him using this skateboard and I said, “Can I try it?” So he let me ride it around. I was like, Oh, this is pretty cool. And then I told my mom, I said, “Hey, Steve has this skateboard. Can you get me one?” So, she got me one just like Steve's. And we would skateboard together. I was probably twelve or thirteen. Then fast forward, I moved away, we moved on from skateboards to motocross bikes. I never really saw Steve anymore, and started to become a fine artist in the ‘90s. I was selling my drawings and paintings and going to different art markets.
And probably around 2000, 2001, Doug Jr., my son, got into skateboarding and, of course, I paid a lot of attention to it. We bought him boards, all the thrasher magazines, videos, and we took him to the mall to get him whatever he needed. And one day, I couldn't afford the board. I told him “I can't afford this one, but I'll buy you that blank one and I'll paint it for you when I get home.” And he said, “It’s okay, dad. I just need a board,” because he was breaking them—they break the boards after a while. But I painted a little Apache warrior on there. And then he came back in the afternoon. I said, “Doug, what did your friend say about the skateboard?” And he said, “Dad, everybody wants one.” So, I got the idea for Apache skateboards.
THE LAB MAG: When did you properly establish the Apache Skate Team or was it something that happened naturally as you progressed making more boards?
DOUGLAS MILES: It happened almost right away because once I got the idea, I kind of knew kids would want one. As soon as I figured that out, I said “Let's just turn this into a brand,” but I didn't know anything about brands or companies or anything. All I knew was that I could do it. Everyone else does it.
Early on, one of the first things I did, was to talk to Doug [Jr.]. I said, “Hey we should have a skate team because if we're going to have a brand, I noticed everyone—all of these brands—have skate teams.” He said, “Yeah, all right, cool.” I started to look for places in California that could actually print the boards. It might've been ‘03, ‘04, but we went somewhere in Orange County and we got them printed.
Apache Skateboards, 2008.
Skateboard decks, digital color photographs, aerosol spray paint.
8 inches x 32 inches.
THE LAB MAG: Do you think you could tell us a little bit about the exhibition, Douglas Miles: Always & Forever?
DOUGLAS MILES: My current exhibition is at the Museum of Contemporary Native American Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It's titled Always & Forever which is the title of an old R& B song, from like 1976, which is just a really pretty song. I had been making art that I felt, for so many years, I wanted in the show. The museum asked me “Would you like to do a show here?” I said “Yeah.” They said, “Okay, what do you want to put in there?”
I did a show there in ‘04 at that same museum. Maybe it was in that same room. That first show in ‘04, which is literally twenty years ago, had skateboards in it. It was at the early stages of Apache Skateboards, so I definitely said to myself I've got to show the skateboards. Because we're still doing it. We're still doing Apache Skateboards.
Apache Skate Team, 2025
From left to right: Ty Thompson, Breeze Coltrane Miles, Douglas Miles Jr., Savannah Humphries, Douglas Miles Jr., Laine Williams, Tray Polk and Douglas Miles Jr.
Photos courtesy of Apache Skateboards.
We still have a team and we still travel. We do skate comps on the res, so I just have to show them. I wanted to show a personal collection of skateboards, but I also wanted to show some new art, too.
There’s a large mural on canvas done with spray paint. There’s the suitcase installation, which is really about the forced relocation and removal of Native American people throughout history. And then, of course, skateboards. Someone said “I’m really blown away by the skateboards.” I said “Why?” and she said, “Because each skateboard is almost like a representation of Native American people, but at different points in history and, in different ways, each character is completely different than the next. So it's almost like you're just with the skateboards alone.” She said “You're kind of talking about a Native American history, but also through portraiture on the skateboards.”
I never thought about that; I just thought all these graphics are cool and that I had them for twenty years, and I'm gonna show them. I wasn't thinking about them as ways to portray Native American people, but they brought it up.
Commodification of Native Art and People, 2025.
Vinyl stickers on SPAM cans.
Height varies.
THE LAB MAG: Could you talk about the SPAM sculpture?
DOUGLAS MILES: Someone was saying that the SPAM sculpture kind of reminded them of something that was like an Andy Warhol. I wasn't even thinking about Warhol. I was thinking about taking food that working-class people eat—that's affordable—turning that into art, but also something that honors the working class and talks about this type of food that is not healthy for you. Yet we eat it.
It also talks about the commodification of culture—the commodification of Indian stuff or Native stuff. People just want to buy something and leave, but they don’t want to get to know me or come and learn a little bit about Native community or Native American history or Apache people. They don't want to travel across the Southwest by car and get out on the ground and touch the earth, feel the heat, and sleep in the elements. That's how you really learn about your country. You can’t learn about it just from watching a reel on TikTok.
THE LAB MAG: What inspires you?
DOUGLAS MILES: “What inspires you every day?” is such a simple question, but it's almost the ultimate question too, because it’s difficult. What happens is I think some artists are a little more in touch with their feelings about inspiration but I don't really think so much about where's my inspiration coming from today? or should I look at this book and get inspiration? I was watching a video last night on YouTube and the video was titled “How to Find Inspiration if You’re a Fashion Designer” and it had a picture of some heavy metal t-shirt. I clicked on there I was like Oh I'm gonna watch this and see what this guy says about where his inspiration comes from but then I just turned it off. I started scrolling on Instagram and I started listening to people talk on Instagram. In the end, I didn't really feel that inspired because I just turned it off.
There are things I have that I look at for ideas. I have a lot of magazines. I don't live close to Phoenix. I live two hours away so if I'm going to get any magazines except for what is at the grocery store in the next town over, and it's mostly just tabloids at the counter, there's really no place to get magazines. When I go down to Phoenix I'll stop in at Barnes and Noble and I'll look through fashion magazines or art magazines or photography magazines and I'll grab like a half a dozen. I'll buy them and I'll bring them back and I'll look at them or I'll read articles about the artists so I guess that's one way I get inspiration. It’s not like I wake up thinking, What's gonna inspire me today?
Untitled, 2024, Vintage suitcase, spray paint, and applique.
25 x 16 x 8 inches.
I don't really think about where I get inspiration because I feel like every time I'm awake, every time I'm doing something, I'm always inspired. For me, inspiration is kind of like a nonstop thing. Even with the Barbie boxes, I have my friends and my daughters that I'm going to put on there. I don't think they know just how much of an inspiration they are to me. I just have to talk to them; I want to talk to them; I want to hear them. I don't think they realize how moved I am by reaching out to them, hearing what they did in the day—they could be telling me a sad story but it's still inspiring. I feel like if I hear them and I know them better, I can create better. What I'm creating is coming from a real place inside me. It's hard to say what or who inspires me.
The history of place is fascinating for a lot of different reasons. I live in San Carlos. I live on the reservation in the Apache Nation. Apache people are such a big part of the history of America and Western expansionism. We sort of became like public enemies because we fought back against Western expansionism. I feel like that's such a part of history and that's tied to this place that I live. I'm proud of it, and I think that is also a very big inspiration to me, every day.
American Rent is Due, 2024.
Spray paint on building.
THE LAB MAG: Is there a piece you're most proud of?
DOUGLAS MILES: I like all of them equally—the artwork. I would never use the word proud. But if I did, I would say the skateboards. Only because the skateboards could actually be used and it could be taken over by someone else. They're gonna scratch it up or scrape it. Usually it's a kid that's gonna use it. And I think that's what I always wanted when I started to become a fine artist. I wanted my art to be accessible to community. I have expensive pieces. You know, people can buy my work for $2,000 to $20,000 to $40,000 and upwards. But in the beginning, I just wanted it to be accessible.
THE LAB MAG: What does form mean to you as an artist?
DOUGLAS MILES: I feel like form is a way to express yourself. I feel like form is how you take the shape of whatever form you're using. You want to fill that form, or you want it to take that shape. It could be a canvas, which is rectangular, then you want to fill that shape. Or it could be circular, then you want to fill that whole circle. Or it could be a skateboard because it's such a strange shape, which is always challenging. Or it could be a suitcase because suitcases turn into sculptures and they're three- dimensional—they pop out. I think the great thing about using form is it forces you to think about how to fill space in a non- linear and completely unique way.
From left to right: Untitled, 2024, Untitled, 2024, Untitled, 2024, Untitled, 2024.
Vintage suitcases, spray paint and applique.
Size varies.
THE LAB MAG: What project are you working on now?
DOUGLAS MILES: I have a new series that I'm working on. It's going to be called The Barbie Box. The Barbie Box is a series of work on vintage Barbie boxes. I have daughters, so I would buy those boxes for my girls. You put the Barbie in the box, and you put the clothes in. I look for vintage ones, because I like the art on them. But I'm going to paint on the surface. I have to go to thrift stores or antique shops, and they've been popping up more and more. I have one that says Ken and I painted on it—with an Apache.
It's original packaging, but of course, I put this Apache on there. What I plan to do with the Barbie boxes, I’m going to put my friends who are Apache or Navajo women, I'm going to put their photos on top of them. It might be my daughters. Barbie is a very European kind of beauty standard. By putting Native American women on there, then you sort of turn that upside down. But, I'm not anti-Barbie or anything. I'm just saying it will be fun to have them on here instead of Barbie.
Video courtesy of the Contemporary Native Arts, Santa Fe, New Mexico.
DOUGLAS MILES: FOREVER & ALWAYS
WORKS BY DOUGLAS MILES
THE MUSEUM OF CONTEMPORARY NATIVE ARTS
108 CATHEDRAL PLACE, SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO
READ HIS ENTRY INTO THE CABINET OF CURIOSITIES
Despite the difficulty of breaking into the skate industry, Apache Skateboards continues to design and release skate shoes, boards, and clothing with industry titans such as Etnies and Zumiez.
very laboratory