Brazilian Women Are Owning the DIY Construction YouTube Space

This article originally appeared on Motherboard Brazil. 

Paloma Cipriano was 16-years-old when she worked with cement plaster for the first time in her life. Her house, located in Sete Lagoas, a city in the southeastern Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, had been under construction since she was born. Her mother could no longer follow through with the repairs, so Cipriano decided to help. She was accustomed to going through life without a male figure—she'd never seen her father's face, after all—so she didn't bother waiting around for some construction worker to show up, the norm in her neighborhood. She decided to do the work herself.

She enrolled in a local masonry course, went online to research which tools she would need for the project, and started by remodeling her bedroom floor. She never stopped. Seven years later, Cipriano continues to remodel her home—but now she films her work and shares her expertise with others on YouTube. The 23-year-old has a powerful online following, especially among other women. It's easy to see why: she shows them they don't have to rely on men to play their traditional cultural roles.

There are several different channels, groups, and producers making video tutorials and DIY-themed content. But Cipriano's channel encompasses a corner of the internet that hasn't been frequently explored by women in Brazil: construction. Her channel has over 100,000 subscribers, and the response has been strong. "I see people who comment and say it's unusual for a girl to mix cement. To me, it's normal. I've always done it at home," she says.

Her audience is presented with different lessons—'How to Apply Plaster,' 'How to Tile,' and 'How to Grout Pavement,' just to name a few. 'How to Plaster Walls,' Cipriano's most popular video thus far, has garnered over 2,400,000 views. "That video still is very successful. After a while, I started to receive messages from women who were duplicating what I did in [their own] homes. They inspired me to continue filming," she says.

The positive response is even more evident in the comments on Cipriano's videos. There are some misogynistic remarks, but those are vastly outnumbered by the women who express appreciation for her work. "Maybe I don't [fully] realize how much this can change people's lives. But I'm happy and surprised by the comments I get."

Cipriano said she's been digesting all the feedback she gets. "This isn't going to change the world, but it can help a little. The simple fact that some women now [feel compelled] to do something that's always been done by men makes me happy," she says.

She's excited by the reception and is currently entirely focused on her channel. She recently left an internship to produce more videos, and has already managed to get a few sponsors. "Now I want to finish remodeling my house," she says.

The channel Diycore, created by Karla Amadori from the city of Lebon Régis in the southern state of Santa Catarina, has followed in Cipriano's steps and gained traction of her own. Adhering more strictly to the "do it yourself" model, Amadori's videos reach upwards of 500,000 subscribers, guiding them through an array of tasks—everything from basic painting to upholstering furniture and wood panelling.

Amadori, an interior design graduate, first thought about creating the channel back in 2015 after she decided to remodel her bedroom. She wanted to build a rack made from wooden box crates and didn't know where to begin. She took to YouTube for guidance as to what tools she would need and how to operate them, but couldn't find any specific instructions on how to assemble the rack itself. Once she'd successfully assembled one herself, she decided to film the process and post the video to YouTube. The video went viral (it currently has over 1 million views), and its success convinced her to launch the channel.

Inspired by the video's positive reception, Amadori began to document her other projects—such as building a wardrobe and other furniture for her bedroom.

She receives comments, often from women of all ages, thanking her for the help. But Diycore also has an enthusiastic male following. According to Amadori, men have been commenting on her videos with increasing regularity. "I don't know if they're just quieter or if they only comment once they've watched several videos, but I know that the masculine audience has been growing."

Regardless of who comprises her audience, Amadori is happy she's able to motivate other people to get their hands dirty. "They feel like they can do and build things [themselves], and that's the coolest thing about the [DIY movement]," she says.

People from different parts of Brazil contact her to share how much she's changed their lives. "I get messages from women who didn't have the guts to build anything, and now they're super happy they can install a shower head or paint a wall."

Thanks to women like Cipriano and Amadori, YouTube has started to foster similar women-powered presences like Lumberjills, a custom woodworking company founded by Leticia Piagentini and Fernanda Sanino. Based in São Paulo, the most populous city in the country, they aim to show other women that there's no industry they can't conquer. Initially, the business venture didn't even start out with an intentional feminist angle—it just took one on after all the sexism and harassment the founders encountered in their field.

Lumberjills focuses on custom woodwork projects; the client requests something and the women make it. It was a labor of love: neither Piagentini or Sanino had worked with wood before, and only had basic training when they left everything behind to launch the business together. They received flack from their traditional Italian families, who were disappointed and unable to fathom why two successful women would leave behind their careers at Regus—a multinational company that rents office space to corporations with traveling staff—to build furniture.

"We weren't very active in the field starting out, but after awhile we started to recognize how important it is [to put yourself out there]. We dealt with a lot of prejudice from our family and friends, and we had to embrace that," Sanino recalls. She explained that, in addition to dealing with disapproval from her nuclear family, she still had to navigate sexism in the industry despite over three years' experience. "My hope is that one day I'll be able to say, 'I'm a woodworker!' and not shock anybody," she says.

If it was only a question of shock, it wouldn't be so bad. Sanino says she's experienced some frightening situations, including incidents of harassment. She once went to work on a job site to remodel a house and found she was the only female in the company of 20 men. Within minutes, at least 15 of them had stopped working to watch her on the job. "I was locked in a room with a bunch of men staring [at me]. I was working on a nightstand, and they started talking about [being in bed with] me. It was awful. I felt like I was completely surrounded. I couldn't stand it, so I left for lunch and asked to return when no one else would be in the house," she said.

Sanino is still very happy with Lumberjill's success—and even moreso about its impact on other women. "The world is changing. Slowly, but it is. We're fighting against misogyny, and our efforts will show women they can [become] woodworkers if they want to be." Which is exactly why Lumberjills has started carving out its YouTube presence. Their channel already features multiple original videos.

Both Sanino and Piagentini say they need more time to make more videos. They spend full days in their shop working on custom orders for clients, but they believe in the empowerment that stems from the knowledge they share with others. "We really want to produce more content like this. We already bought a camera and hired a business partner who can edit the videos. We just really want women to get their hands dirty," she said, adding that the company also hosts workshops for women interested in learning more about the construction industry.

"We're doing what we can to help girls to break through [societal] barriers and get a start in the business. After all, why shouldn't little girls dream of becoming woodworkers when they grow up? It's time for this to change."