Curatorialist

I not only remember my first pair, I remember what else I was wearing when I got them. Blue O.P. shorts and a white O.P. shirt with a sunset scene on it. It’s easy to remember because I didn’t own any other clothes. The “Era” wasn’t just a cool shoe to have, it was the only shoe to have. It was designed by skaters for skaters. It was somewhere around 1980 and I was somewhere around 12 years old. I was spending as much time as I could at the Del Mar Skate Ranch, buying G&S stickers, eating Abba Zabas, drooling over Independent Trucks and playing the newly-released Pac-Man. It was MAYHEM at the Del Mar Skate Ranch – kids were everywhere. Skateboarding and video games were blowing up. For those of us that used to go to Oasis to skate, we couldn’t freaking believe ourselves. I grew up right on 24th St., so I could walk to the park by hopping over the slew and the train tracks, pass by the abandoned building with the broken windows and never even cross a street. The skate park was basically my backyard.

Intimidating as hell, I kept to myself mostly. And I waited until everyone was done before I dropped into a bowl. I wasn’t great at tricks, but it wasn’t about that back than – the best move I ever pulled off was a hand plant, but it wasn’t even in the egg bowl. That bowl was for monsters and we youngins would just drop in and bail out at the bottom. Not a single kid at that place wore anything but Vans. The sticky sole was the first of its kind. Hell, the thing was like 2 full inches of pure rubber, but that shoe was more than just a skate shoe.

Wearing Vans just felt right, even though the blister on your achilles could last for months before you broke that thing in. They went with everything: long pants, shorts, bathing suit. Like a trusty dog, you abused them and they only loved you more for it. Wear ‘em to the beach, get all sandy, hose them off, wear them to dinner, wear them to school, wear them to the skatepark, leave ‘em outside – they gladly took the abuse. And you could draw on them, too. To this day, my preferred medium is a ball point pen on canvas, a technique that was born scribbling ZoSo on the side of my Vans.

Mom liked them because they actually weren’t that expensive and they’d replace them at a moment’s notice. A cool brand that also had quality and integrity, embraced by kids and adults alike. Nobody has anything but fond memories of Vans. How is any of that possible? And they withstood the test of time, too. My story is just like a couple thousand other kids’ stories. It was, in fact, an Era. This is why I have nothing but eager anticipation for this new book coming out called, “Vans: Off the Wall: Stories of Sole from Vans Originals.” It’ll be out June 4th. My story won’t be in there, but I bet a hundred just like it will be. I can’t wait to pick it up.

Get all psyched for it here.

Read the LA Times article here.

Learn more about the history of the Del Mar Skate Ranch here.