Samarria Brevard in Quit Your Day Job 2017

Ten years without a 100 % female skate film in the United States feels like a cosmic void the scene had to absorb. In 2017, the release of Quit Your Day Job put everything back on track, thanks in huge part to Samarria Brevard.

Transworld Skateboarding, 2017

In 2017, the brand and media outlet Transworld Skateboarding dropped Quit Your Day Job, a massive project that left a mark on the skate world. It’s the first film entirely dedicated to American women’s skateboarding in more than a decade. A temporal anomaly when you look at the bustling street scene in 2017.

At that exact moment, Samarria Brevard was no longer just a local. She was taking on the biggest gaps and landing surgical receptions on the toughest pavement.

The film hit a media landscape where female representation is rare. Often reduced to a few minutes of edits on web sites with shaky connections. Transworld went all out with a slick production, cinematic bombs, and meticulous coverage of sessions across the United States.

For Samarria, that exposure changed the game. It validated years of night‑time sessions grinding concrete away from the spotlight. The street scene had been waiting for this long‑form format for years. The result laid new foundations for a generation of riders who lacked video representation.

In 2017, the industry was shifting. Skaters and filmmakers were fed up with the status quo and the exclusion of female talent. Her part in Quit Your Day Job isn’t just a string of tricks. It’s a statement: street has no gender, just hours of flight and a tolerance for pain.

The machine rebooted after a decade of silence. Transworld signed one of its last big moves before the media shifts.

Los Angeles, massive rails

The segment opens with a perfect backside boardslide, a rail drop in Los Angeles. The technical set‑up and commitment are in place from the start. She chains tricks on rough West Coast curbs, then tackles monumental drops where every mistake pays in cash.

Each spot shows its knack for finding speed to clean up downhill landings. It turns even the smallest furniture into a brutal precision and style playground.

The scene is picking up speed. Smooth lines in classic California spots. Flip-ins and grinds on ledges flow without a pause. Samarria shows total mastery of her board, refusing to compromise on obstacle difficulty and always hunting for the most direct and eye‑popping line.

She doesn’t just ride her spots, she owns them. Shoulder placement, pop — the dominance of the big names.

The finish ramps up a notch. A monumental attempt on a well‑known Los Angeles set, a spot that demands total commitment. The final trick lands perfect. A landing that finally convinces the last skeptics in the scene. That technical density, from the first to the last frame, lifts this section to instant classic status for every street skating fan.

Urban spots, California

These spots smell chalk, the scorching asphalt of Los Angeles, and the sweat of endless sessions under the relentless West Coast sun. Urban architecture from the 2010s: raw concrete, school steps, park walls worn by decades of wax. These places, far from sanitized, paid skateparks, are the beating heart of street culture and a reminder of where the grit of this sport comes from.

Many have known grim destinies. Gentrification, anti‑skater furniture, demolition for soulless complexes. The rail spot saw its slab altered. Metal posts nailed down by the city, turning a temple into a sterile zone. Through Transworld’s camera, these street snippets keep a magical vibe that makes kids across the Atlantic dream.

These raw urban backdrops set the visual identity and ground the performance in reality, far from artificial ramps. Samarria claims these public spaces with a disconcerting ease, proving city furniture belongs to those who dare ride it with style and grit. It’s this asphalt geography—dust, red bricks, rusted steel bars—that injects all its narrative power into those few minutes of footage.

Morcheeba, trip‑hop

The soundtrack opts for a heavy, atmospheric, drifting vibe. Typical of Transworld productions from that blessed skate‑video era. No over‑saturated punk rock, no flashy rap. A dark trip‑hop or soul track sets the dramatic tension from the get‑go. The music mirrors the slow approaches before exploding on the landings. A symbiosis between body and bass rhythm.

This blend of brutality and melancholic softness gives the piece a cinematic dimension. Beyond a simple compilation of tricks. The production treats female skate with the aesthetic rigor of top male titles. The music guides the eye and highlights the rider’s natural flow during moments of grace.

Years later, the notes of that track pull street skaters back to 2017. Excitement and nostalgia for a soulful era. A solid musical pick that stands the test of time, unlike clothes or boards. A winning bet for Quit Your Day Job, giving Samarria a sonic showcase that matches her board‑bound commitment.

Filmmaker, editor, Transworld

Behind the lens, the sharp eye of Transworld’s filmmakers. Artisans who chase the boards with heavy cameras. Filming street requires millimetre‑level placement, flawless timing, and riding the same bumps as the skater. The framing highlights the height of gaps and real speed, without unnecessary digital effects.

During the edit, the cuts follow the trick chronology with a rhythm that keeps the viewer glued. The spot transitions flow naturally, giving the illusion of a continuous session through Los Angeles. The editor adds just the right amount of slow‑motion to the hard landings, delivering a visual impact without melodrama.

This teamwork showcases a huge part of the complexity. Every link in the creative chain carries weight. Without that level of craftsmanship, even the best tricks in the world would lose their edge in a poorly stitched or poorly graded edit. Transworld proves its historic know‑how with a timeless visual piece, a benchmark for street enthusiasts.

Shoes, boards, 2017

In 2017, Samarria rode with the classic street‑skater setup. Gear built to absorb impacts without breaking. Boards feature a standard width, mounted with solid trucks and hard wheels to keep the speed. No frills: raw gear, functional, designed to be destroyed and replaced as soon as the wood softens.

The shoes worn reflect partnerships finally looking to invest in female signatures suited to intense street. Low‑cut models reinforced where wear occurs offer optimal support without losing touch. These pumps, often ripped to the canvas halfway through, remind us of the financial and material reality of a rider grinding asphalt seven days a week.

The fashion style stays true to 2017 streetwear: loose but practical outfits, comfy tees, sturdy pants. No ultra‑stylized looks from a Paris ad agency, just the functional uniform of a street skater who prioritizes movement freedom over surface appearance. That focus on authenticity completes the picture of an era when skate still fought to break free from purely mercantile logic and stay rooted in the sweat of its fundamentals.