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Beyond Skateboarding: The No Comply Network Interview

Post author By Zac
Post date November 1, 2016

British skater Jason Caines has been positively chipping away at his new network project that brings skateboarders together to share their art, passions and general skills from around the world. Ahead of Beyond Skateboarding exhibition this month, Tim Hines asks the questions whilst Caines delivers the goods on behalf of the crew.

Hey Jason, let’s start with a breakdown of what The No Comply Network is?

The No Comply Network is an online showcase of artists, musicians and filmmakers from the skate community. No Comply promotes its members’ creative work and also their thoughts on skateboarding and making stuff. It’s a new thing and kinda different. No Comply is not a skate artist agency. Every No Comply artist is independent, the network is a window into their world and we sometimes collaborate with those artists as part of our events, online posts and products. The platform keeps members updated about what others are up to. I hope it will encourage them to skate, network and collaborate with each other in an organic and natural way.

London’s a great hub for what you’re doing, are you ever surprised at the array of local talent?

London is a hectic place to live and I agree it is home to some of the most talented skaters and artists in the world. It doesn’t surprise me that this is where some of the most exciting skate community artists would want to be here right now. I’m from Birmingham myself and moved to New Cross, in South East London in 2008 to study at Goldsmiths, and I’ve lived here ever since.

I started No Comply in the summer of 2014 after about a year and a half of working for Long Live Southbank campaign as a writer and spokesman. I met hundreds of other skaters through my work with LLSB and saw that so many of them had so many sick creative skills off their boards as well. I realised that skateboarding has a creative, talented community unlike any other out there and that something had to be done about it so I started to curate No Comply. I add new members, post interviews with them alongside images of the work and links to their websites, blogs or instagram if they have one.

As human beings, we all really want to do things our own way all the time and hate to be told what to do but as skaters we take this to the next level for sure. That’s why the name of the group is called The No Comply Network. It’s a tight knit crew who all share a passion for skating but in the end it’s all about doing your own thing.

No Comply collaborates with its members and makes original videos, reviews of skate magazines, remix sections and short films like our BBC featured film Long Live Stockwell. We’ve also started to make products too. The first is the Mind’s Eye logo shirt designed by Brum legend and OG Blueprint skateboarder Si Peplow.

You’ve skated Southbank for numerous years so I suppose you’ve always seen a positive relationship between artist and skateboarders?

I’ve skated Southbank for over ten years. It’s the best. SB is a great skate spot and central meeting point. However, the tight connection between graffiti writers and skaters at Southbank is a common misconception and is coincidentally not as tight knit as many may think. Let’s clear this up. Although many skaters make graff, most do not and actually at SB many of the locals, preferred the aesthetic of the spot without graffiti I mean just because you like illustration or photography doesn’t immediately mean you like graffiti but that’s the blanket solution that the Southbank Centre came up with back in 2004 and that’s how it worked out. I mean I think it’s pretty sick, but yeah, it’s not for everyone.

Nowadays, because of the internet, most artists out there are making kinda wild attention grabbing stuff and trying to go viral and many of them could walk up to a canvas and paint some challenging, unique, work. But then again most skaters would just instinctively walk up to that same canvas, snap it in two and do a switch tre flip over it, turn it into a wallie or something and then draw a sick design on it afterwards. Artists from skate culture are definitely special and pride themselves on their unique approach to creating their work. This is is a trait many of them have learnt from years of skating, which is a dynamic activity which keeps you sharp and creatively focused and which definitely results in some interesting artwork.

Skateboarding is art and most artists recognise that and that’s why the two communities are so strongly connected. The relationship between the skate world and the art world is usually positive, however the art world, fashion and other creative industries needs skateboarding more then the other way round. Let’s be honest, it’s been this way for a long time, skaters have been behind some of the biggest creative artwork and brands for a very long time.

I’ve seen that you have 100+ members who are based around the globe what’s one of the ways you usually reach out to local and global talents?

I started by adding my mates like Trav Wardle and Jeremy Jones. It grew from there and I hit people up, or they hit me up, and we do a feature post, which I post on to Facebook. It’s really short interview with the chosen artist accompanied by a graphic of the work or a profile photo. It’s slowly grown and we now have members all over the UK, Europe, Canada, America and Asia.

No Comply Members are so diverse. Rogie’s a pro for Heroin but then again he’s also flown off to Africa to film Rhinos for the BBC. Sophia Bennett was a SB local and a photographer who now lives in Geneva and works at CERN, the biggest particle reactor in the world. Arran Gregory made nearly a 100 life-sized silver leopards out of mirrored glass and placed them in an East London car park. It’s just insane, that’s why I curate the page, add new members and promote their work, it’s exciting to see how much talent there is in a community you actively take a part in too.

So you’ve got an event called Beyond Skateboarding coming up soon, can you tell us more about it?

Beyond Skateboarding is a skate art showcase two-dayer in Deptford London from November 10th-13th. Work will be presented by The No Comply Network and we will exhibit and promote creative work. Essentially it’s a chance for everyone to properly exhibit their work, meet up, chat and go skate.

Thursday the 10th is an exhibition and film screenings at Curve Skateshop in Deptford. We will have an art show in the shop with over 20 members showing and whilst there will premiere some new unreleased and exclusive edits by No Comply Members along with free booze. This is followed by a second exhibition, featuring more member’s work and live music in a local late night bar called Buster Mantis.

Sunday the 13th is the skate day. We’ve rented out Giffin Square a popular local ledge spot for the day. We’re gonna play more music build ramps, wallrides, flatbars and have a skate jam. It will be jokes. Alongside all this this we will be teaching skate lessons and also doing art workshops all day. Skating is about having fun so we having a series of secret challenges and activities we will release. Prizes have been donated by Palace, HUF, Levi’s, Slam, Parlour, Cliché, Brixton and Andale Bearings and we’ll be giving them away to people who want to come down and have fun. We don’t care if your good on the wood, if you like art, you fit the part.

Do you feel that there is still a place for exhibitions, instagram and other social media outlets are becoming so popular do you feel the physical still has relevance in today’s age?

Good question man. I think there will always be a place for something you can touch. Skateboarding hurts. You can’t replicate it. Yet.

Do you have any dreams or aspirations for where you want to take The No Comply Network grow to?

I hope we make this event a serious banger as it’s our first one, so at the moment, I’m hoping it goes down well. In future I want to work on more collaborative products with our members, add new members and make more rad shit.

Sounds like a good place to leave it Jason, best of luck with the upcoming events!

Safe.

Interview by Tim Hines.

Find the No Comply Network online on Facebook and Insta.

If you would like to write for Crossfire, get in touch.

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Skating the Rainbow

Post author By Zac
Post date October 26, 2016

Brian Anderson’s decision to come out has been met with support and affection across that slice of internet lacquered thick with skateboarding. In addition, joining Antihero, that most manly, broken-toothed, gun shootin’, hill bombin’, beer sluggin’, say-it-like-it-is and shut-up-and-skate of all teams, couldn’t be more perfect. Surely the homophobia that has lingered in skateboarding like a drug-resistant superbug can’t survive in this environment.

The idea that things were once worse and now, perhaps, are better has been explored in brilliant pieces for Jenkem and Huck (the latter written by Patrick Welch, who five years earlier highlighted the injustice suffered by 1990s Birdhouse am Tim Von Werne, whose career finished before it started after being told not to speak about his sexuality to Skateboarder magazine). But when Toy Machine’s Welcome to Hell was brand new and BA frontside bluntslid into stardom, this would likely have all met with significant amounts of homophobic dumbfuckery.

To spell it out to the few today who miss the point to the tune of “who cares?”, a skateboarder being gay shouldn’t matter but clearly does. If someone possessed of such enormous capital (Skater of the Year, World Cup winner, a big giant of a man respected by salty ol’ peers and board-purchasing kids) still had to go through years of anxiously guarded privacy, what messages has skateboarding been transmitting more widely?

When we asked Marie Dabaddie, a skater, photographer and founder of genderqueer skatezine Xem Skaters, Marie felt that, “skateboarding has never been welcoming for gay people in general.” With everything skateboarding purports to be – non-conformist, creative, better than narrow-minded squares in the ordinary world – the idea that gay people are either dissuaded from skateboarding or that gay skaters feel less able to come out is deeply disappointing. For Marie, BA’s announcement means “people are going to talk about it, and it might help gay people feel more confident to come out in the skateboard community, or even to start skateboarding…I just think that being gay shouldn’t be such a big thing anymore but I guess it still is.”

A video posted by Joey Digital (@joey_digital) on Oct 22, 2016 at 5:26pm PDT

And of course everything is not now suddenly OK in our little world. As Patrick Welch puts it, skateboarding shouldn’t let itself ‘off the hook’ for decades of excusing prejudice (including violent prejudice). At a micro level, listening to the self-admonishment and motivational abuse that carries thickly and loudly across skateparks and street spots shows that homophobia and misogyny remain stubbornly sealed into our everyday ‘vernacular’. Ordinary skaters have little power over Californian skate moguls closing ranks to protect stars such as D Way or the late Jay Adams (RIP) from serious scrutiny into their roles in potentially homophobic, fatal assaults (Way was never charged for his alleged involvement in the death of a gay man for which his friend, Josh Swindell, served 19 years, whilst Adams served six months for felony assault after starting a fight with a gay couple, one of whom was beaten to death). We do, however, have power over the language we use.

This leads to several tricky questions. Are older skaters projecting how they once talked onto the young – to whom this no longer appliers, what with 20 years of progress n’ all? If ‘gay’, ‘fag’, ‘pussy’, etcetera are still habitually used to signify ‘weak’ or ‘bad’, do the small minority who think deeply, write and tweet about such things (and we are firmly within this group, ‘checking our privilege’ as we go) risk over-earnestly policing language that has been long separated from its original cruel intent?

Sources like the British Social Attitudes Survey indicate that the population as a whole has become much more tolerant of difference in sexual orientation. But there is a difference between stated and revealed prejudice: how we describe ourselves versus what we then say and do. Tour bus chatter made BA fear how peers would react if they knew he was gay. Presumably those individuals would never have viewed themselves as prejudiced. The use of such language may be thoughtless, but the consequence is to ‘other’ people who differ from the ‘heteronormative’, male-centric assumptions of skateboarding.

What the skate-o-sphere has got absolutely right is that this is bigger than skateboarding. Derogatory slang is used throughout our school and teenage years, generation after generation, its origins stretching from Chaucer to Orwell to Chris fucking Moyles. We may not be any worse than wider society, but we are surely no better. Paraphrasing Kyle Beachy, each chauvinistic cuss cumulatively results in an “act of violence” to anyone who is not a heterosexual male.

A photo posted by Brian Anderson (@nolimitsoldier) on Oct 4, 2016 at 3:23am PDT

BA put the harm done by the habitual use of the word ‘faggot’ into historical context for Kevin Wilkins at The Good Problem: “It’s a really horrible word. I think a lot of older gay people really think nobody should ever say it…kids just don’t know how hurtful it really is. It’s a term these kids all use, but they didn’t grow up in the times of the 60s and 70s when being gay was illegal and when gay bars were being raided. They didn’t live through the 80s and the AIDS epidemic, where some people were losing a friend a week. Just think about what you’re really saying.”

As well as projecting hostility to gay men, this language sends a very similar message to women and girls. BA may be the first openly gay male top tier pro, but many gay female professionals have been out from the start. In this case, skate culture has much in common with the wider world of sport, where sponsors and pundits evaluate male athletes against masculine clichés of strength and power and female athletes according to the sexualised male gaze. Female participation in skateboarding has grown considerably, but a strange consequence of the particularly hyper-masculine nature of skating is that, for women who skate, being gay isn’t actually a big deal: quite the opposite, it’s sometimes assumed by other skaters. Any woman or girl skater is already ‘other’, exactly because she is doing something than projects itself as exclusively male. Skate comps backed by major ‘action sports’ sponsors remind us of this skewed hierarchy by accompanying male prize winners with scantily clad hostesses whilst often failing to include female competitors.

On this counter-intuitive jumble of attitudes towards gender and sexual orientation, Marie observes that: “Female skaters have always been suspected of being gay somehow. If you’re a skater and a girl, you might as well be gay because you’re skating and ‘skating is for men’ so ‘you’re playing the man’. It’s a stupid cliché that probably made it easier for women who are homosexual to live in skateboarding. Not that it’s easy at all, it’s just not such ‘A Thing’ anymore.”

With reference to the mainstream sports stars who came out some time ago, articles on BA have posited that skateboarding lags behind even the retrograde world of ‘proper sports’. But these are exceptional cases: even in mass participation sports, there are far fewer out gay athletes than the proportion of LGBTQ people in wider society would lead one to expect. The UK’s ‘national sport’ of football presents one of the saddest stories. Justin Fashanu came out in 1990 in a tabloid interview after lengthy press speculation and abuse from fans. No club would subsequently offer him a full-time contract. He took his own life in 1998, following an allegation of sexual assault in the US State of Maryland (where homosexual acts were at that time illegal). His suicide note expressed his doubts that he’d receive a fair trial because of his sexuality. He remains the only English premiere league player to have come out whilst still playing professional football.

Systemic prejudice harms men and women of all sexual orientations and gender identities, which Marie describes as part of a damaging and “ceaseless genderisation”. The journalist Owen Jones relates the mental health crisis facing young people to these deeply entrenched forces: “A rigid and unreconstructed form of masculinity is enforced, sometimes brutally, in the playground. Boys deemed to be insufficiently manly face being abused as ‘girls’ or ‘gays’. Speaking about mental distress is certainly not seen as ‘manly’ – it is ‘weak’.” This is linked to the terrible fact that suicide is the main killer of men under 45 in the UK. For women, equally rigid assumptions of femininity play out particularly in pressures to conform to unobtainable body images and expectations of total male agency over sexual gratification – shockingly revealed amongst a supposedly more enlightened younger generation in the current spike in sexual assault and harassment on university campuses in both the UK and US.

Skateboarding can make small differences to this bigger picture. In case you haven’t noticed, it is so hot right now. Palace’s inventive mashing of cockney and Jamaican rudeboy patois with nostalgic stoner wit, expressed through their web-catalogue and Insta account, is enthusiastically adopted by upper-middle class teenagers who’ve never even stepped on a skateboard. In a large British university, you’ll do yourself a neck mischief looking round every time you hear a Lev-ism. Ubiquitous street slang, strained through the colander of skate culture, contains plenty of ‘gay-meaning-weak’ for every ‘trill’ or ‘’pon the…’. The least we can do is to delete those terms whilst our little sub-culture is currently niche leader rather than mass follower.

The danger is that we are lecturing those who are as yet unprogressed through the informal education skateboarding brings. Rather than letting essentially good kids grow out of prejudiced language, we might provoke a digging of foxholes. The depressing popularity of anti-feminist and, in particular, transphobic memes suggests that expressions of identity politics can make some young men, lacking social and historical context, feel they are being unjustly criticised. With the organised misogynists wallowing beneath the internet’s grotty bridges (and labouring to help install one of their own as POTUS), there is plenty of energy to recruit those who feel that liberal activists have ‘over-played their hands’ (which Alt-Right Troll King Milo Yiannopoulos cites as justification for his behaviour).

Skateboarding’s secret weapon is that it is genuinely inter-generational. It is unique in creating a non-creepy space where 40 year olds treat 18 year olds as human beings, and vice versa. This enables older and/or wiser skaters to exercise the weird privilege of ‘unofficial life mentor’ as one inevitably takes on the role of group skate mum/dad simply through not quitting skateboarding. You don’t have to scold bros in your crew for frequent utterance of ‘gay-meaning-weak’, simply don’t use that language yourself – micro-actions are increasingly proving to be world changing, for good and ill. We’re already seeing the benefits of skateboarding becoming more diverse. Parameters of critical appreciation expand at an exponential rate, encompassing a late 40s Gonz, super cool female skaters like Sarah Meurle, and Frenchmen who can perform body varials when popping waist high tricks – all successfully counterbalancing the jockish claptrap spouted by the likes of Nyjah.

For those with that peculiarly Anglo-Saxon aversion to ‘political correctness’ (i.e. basic human kindness and tolerance) dampening skateboarding’s outlaw spirit – it may be that greater diversity holds the key to resisting homogenising commercialisation. As Marie also said to us, opening more “paths for individual identity building within skateboarding” will not only make it more “welcoming to everyone and anyone” but will lead to more genuine expression of identity and a lot less “copy-paste from the magazines and massive brands.”

Words by Chris Lawton
Thanks to Claire Alleaume and Marie Dabaddie
Blunt illustration thanks to George Yarnton
Rainbow on a rig artwork courtesy of Marc Johns
No thanks to Darryl Cashman

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Tags anti hero, anti hero skateboards, antihero, chris lawton, coming out, Female, gay, george yarnton, homosexuality, male, marc johns, marie dabaddie, skate, skateboarding, vice

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Fashion and the Cringification of Skateboarding

Post author By Zac
Post date August 25, 2016

Unless you’ve been living in a cave with terrible wi-fi, you’ll be aware that a few weeks’ back ‘the bible’ of mainstream fashion, Vogue Magazine, celebrated skateboarding’s ‘coming of age’ through their ‘Skate Week’. Quartersnacks already took the time to summarise the content, but there’s something addictive in checking out stuff you already know you’ll find offensive. If you’ve not yet delighted in the self-torture, like a Cenobite who can kickflip, the topics and the manner in which they are covered are cringe-inducing.

There are ‘flip kicks’, celebrations of longboarding as the “more stylish” option (yo, how can a magazine in love with all things French not know that Monsieurs Gillet and Puig are more stylish than anyone, and they don’t fucking longboard?), discussions of which skaters have the greatest hair, and this picture of Brit ex-pat Ben Nordberg that makes you want to vomit on yourself, eat it, then vomit again in a necessarily extreme ritual exorcism. This awful coal seam has been mined with succinct humour by others, from Jenkem to Complex, our contribution is to investigate just why we care so much about such ham-fisted appropriation.

Ph: Getty Images

In the absence of specific postgraduate reading lists, an informed guess would distil things down to the almost physical discomfort one feels when their sense of identity gets messed with, alongside an asymmetric power relationship between skateboarding and the mainstream.

Identity is important. We invest time in constructing it, feel a huge amount of ownership over it, yet it’s a place of constant conflict. It’s necessary for the functioning of politics and society: it motivates us to vote (“I am a civically responsible person”), who we vote for (“I’m not a fucking Tory”), what we buy (“these sneakers will make me feel like early career Lucas”), and who we hang out with (“these people are like me, and by hanging out with them, I become more like the person I want to be”). But individuals have only partial control over it. Our identity is formed by the interaction of internal and external factors: how we see ourselves (our subjective identity); how others see us (objective identity); and how we think others see us (social identity).

For young people especially, heroes and role models play a big part. When I was 21, in rare moments of self-confidence, I believed that dressing like Josh Kalis made me look a bit like Josh Kalis. This delicate illusion quickly dissolved when others objectively informed me that I looked like a fucking dork. Vogue Skate Week hurt a little because it provides a window into how others see us, how they make sense of our sub-culture, and where they locate it within the context of the things they find familiar (for example, why a fashion magazine needs to talk about skateboarders’ ‘great hair’). All together, the outcome isn’t pretty when parked up against our image of ourselves.

Ph: Glen Luchford for Gucci

The cast-iron motherfucker is that platforms like Vogue, with none of the knowledge, have more of the power. By ballsing up their representation of skateboarding on a massively public stage, they risk actually changing how skateboarders perceive skateboarding. How many of you had “mosher” or “greb” shouted at you as a kid, even if you exclusively rocked gleaming white sneakers, a Yankees fit and a t-shirt covered in rappers’ faces? Incrementally, a view of a subculture loudly expressed by a majority who know nothing about it mutates the self-identity of those within it. When I was a teenager, MTV and Fred Durst had more power in dictating how others perceived me than any imaginary covenant signed in private with the Church of Robert ‘Wu’ Welsh, and I found myself constantly apologising for, or playing along with, the cringified image held by my non-skate friends.

The really interesting argument is that skateboarding brings this upon itself. In cosying up to something powerful, we can hardly complain when Big Fashion makes us look like bigger pricks. New York’s excellent Stoops magazine, which combines the high standard of photography we’ve come to expect from independent mags with superb writing, goes deep on this tricky question. Stoops’ Ted Barrow and Eby Ghafarian point out that, rather than originating what we look like, we’ve instead co-opted and repurposed aspects of our identity from elsewhere. Skateboarders are essentially stylists rather than designers – picking and arranging looks that already exist. In the 1980s, skaters may have repurposed looks from punk and hardcore counter-culture, but in the 90s, it was straight from the mainstream: Polo, Nautica, Guess, pre-SB Nike and Adidas. What made skaters look cool was:

1) Good taste and an attention to detail.
2) The act of skateboarding itself.

Gino is a well-dressed Italian American in his early forties, but when he steps on his skateboard – even when just pushing, of course – he becomes something much cooler. The mainstream dig skateboarding because we reflect a well curated interpretation of their own language straight back at them. If you doubt this, think about the corer-than-core brands like Dime (whose logo shadows Dior) and Palace (who, amongst other high fashion call-backs, had a popular run of t-shirts repurposing the Chanel logo). This can also be seen in Vogue’s interview with Koston this week to mark the release of some depressingly limited high-end collaboration. Koston gushed to Vogue that skaters have always cared about fashion – a skateboarder pretending not to care was evidence of “him caring about how he looks.”

And the pay-off is seductive. In the mid-to-late 90s, the only people who’d look at a skateboarder for sexy times were particularly broad minded indie kids. In the early 2000s, it became the Nu Metal kids congregating in provincial town centres. Now skateboarders are attractive to everyone from preppy college students to hot models. No longer are we pariahs in the eyes of the popular and beautiful. The price is that we stop being a counter-culture, and when that happens, we start playing by the same rules as everyone else.

The French philosopher and historian Michel Foucault explained how popular culture engenders social control, building on an idea developed by Jeremy Bentham in the 18th Century. Bentham imagined an ideal prison, ‘the Panopticon’, where every inmate could theoretically be observed at any time. Even though the prisoner had no way of knowing if he or she was actually being watched, they would behave as if they were. Foucault theorised that contemporary society has evolved as if it were one huge Panopticon – not just through the technology that enables constant universal surveillance, but through a populace that constantly self-polices conformity. When an individual or group deviates from cultural norms, an army of media commentators, cultural figures and ordinary people ridicule or ostracise. And knowing this, we modify our behaviour and appearance accordingly. In women’s magazines in particular, and in fashion more widely, this gentle but constant enforcement is explicit.

Vogue, Grazia, Marie Claire and their ilk are full of condescension dressed up as friendly advice. Articles include “20 things no one over 30 should wear”; “how to be the perfect lover”/ “housewife”/ “employee” / “parent.” All of this reinforces highly conservative gender and age-based norms, gently and subtly steering us towards the economically ‘useful’ roles of worker and consumer. This is the genius of modern capitalism, as predicted by Aldous Huxley in ‘Brave New World.’ Through the promise of eternal youth, a ready supply of casual sex, abundant leisure time and easy, shallow happiness, we don’t need to be coerced to sacrifice our identity, we do it willingly. JG Ballard, in ‘High Rise’, described the sort of citizen who falls into this easily as someone who “was content to do nothing but sit in his over-priced apartment, watch television with the sound turned down, and wait for his neighbours to make a mistake.” The Vogue articles delight as much in pointing out those who have made a mistake as celebrating the Nordbergs who’ve successfully played the game. The rest of us fall in line more unhappily, like Brave New World’s John the Savage, alternately attracted then repulsed.

Image: Foucault by Rinaldo Hopf

As skateboarding is subsumed within the mainstream, as Vogue’s unwanted certification surely indicates, our lives become easier on a surface level. It is now normal to be a skateboarder at school or college. Regular folk rarely shout abuse or try and assault you. But the cost is that you’ve walked willingly into the Panopticon, accepting its norms. Skateboarding is a sport. It is done exclusively by young men. Skateboarders are athletes. Their look is just so hot right now. But just as easily: skateboarding is last season, do something else. You’re too old. You’re not good enough. It’s not for women and girls. These are the real reasons why skateboarding’s journey from counter-culture to mainstream represents a loss – in a world where few people actually ‘do’ anything for any sustained length of time, they ‘like’ rather than ‘love’, being a fan is much easier than being a fanatic.

But one of the wonderful things about human identity is its capacity for reinvention. We might bemoan the current trend for nostalgia in skateboarding, but it celebrates a simpler time when skateboarding was both tiny and outside the mainstream. By keeping this alive, the Mad Max style lawlessness of EMB and Love, Fairfields, the Shell Centre and the Gasworks, their fashions and attitudes become newly relevant to new generations. By re-telling our own story, rather than borrowing from the mainstream, we keep a little bit of power and protect the soul of this thing.

In an interview with Transworld, Dear Skateboarding’s Chris Lipomi enthused, “what’s exciting to me about it is that for the first time in the longest time, skateboarding is referencing itself. And that’s really awesome. I think for so long, skateboarding has sort of looked to something outside, and then brought that into its own world. Which can be interesting but then can also lead to this idea that what we’re doing sort of isn’t good enough.” And more fundamentally, the soul of the thing is maintained by the constant doing of it. Skateboarding can never be truly mainstream in a risk-averse, passive culture because it will always really hurt.

Words: Chris Lawton
Lead Illustration: Steve Larder

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Tags fashion, koston, skate, skate fashion, skate week, skateboarding, skateboarding fashion, vogue

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