SKATE BRANDING® CASE STUDIES

REVISITING THE YEAR MODERN SKATEBOARDING BROKE WITH THE MOST EDITED PIECE IN ARTLESS® HISTORY

BRANDING: “the strategic process of creating a unique name, design, symbol, or image that identifies a product, service, or company and distinguishes it from competitors.”

Notice the word “strategic.” If you’re a Skateboarding Understander, you’ve read or listened to a lot of brand founders talk about how they “didn’t have a business plan, man, we just had some sick ideas and figured it out as we went along.” Figuring it out isn’t necessarily a strategy, but that’s skateboarding; ideas often outweigh the formal plan. We don’t really dig plans because they feel lame.

Hardgoods brands—the makers of skateboarding decks—have a unique value in skateboarding. The skate-careerist hopes to join a brand that makes sense with their brand of skateboarding. Paychecks and opportunities are cool too, but brand affiliation is mostly about “optics.” Regular skateboarders are also finicky about brands. Board brands are the pillar of our skateboarding diet and (most) people who have been skating for a minute are very specific about what they consume. And great brands tend to be particular about pretty much everything, even if their beginnings appear fun and innocent. Maybe taste is the real strategy in skateboarding.

Taste. So much of skate “branding” comes down to taste and taste is subjective. The best and worst part of starting a skateboard brand is that it can be anything. There are cool brands, uncool brands, legacy brands, religious brands, and even functionally bland brands. Bland even rebranded as Beige (and it still sucks). Bland can survive and bland can make money, but there’s always a thirst for “something new that really shakes things up.”

Let’s reframe that sentiment:

Brands that fill a need in skateboarding often last the longest.

Let’s go back to 2013 and revisit a written essay for Jenkem by Andrew Murrell that later became the video piece above. (Please watch it)

Using Girl/Chocolate’s Pretty Sweet as a flashpoint, Murrell’s piece details the comings-and-goings post-Pretty Sweet, followed by a new swath of rider-driven board brands that came out of the rubble and other important events. (For real, watch the video).

Also of note: In 2013, Instagram introduced video to the app. 15 whole-ass seconds of video, but those seconds changed our entire relationship with Instagram along with skateboarding and, fuck, in a broader sense, all of society as we know it.

This Artless® exercise uses the piece and the year 2013 as a jump-off and also includes some notable“small brands” that started in or close to the 2010s. (That’s in quotes because the majority weren’t small for long.) For example, Palace started in 2009, but they’re in the mix, OK? Also, we’re going to focus on FA and not FA/Hockey.

While some of these bands pushed (and continue to further) the idea of what a brand could be, they began operating within the existing structure of skateboarding. Some of these brands would “break” that, but you had to build something new first. A future piece will explore other examples of brands that operate outside of the traditional model by creating new spaces from emerging communities in skateboarding.

Our last note, the video counts were pulled from SkateVideoSite and reflect the time of publishing.

SAMPLE SIZE: 3D, Call Me (917), Fucking Awesome, Frog, Isle, Magenta, Palace, Polar, Primitive, Quasi, Welcome, and WKND.

3D

3D had things lined up. It’s worth noting that in the 1990s Matthew Landon (RIP) started a brand in Connecticut, which later relocated to Boston, Massachusetts, called 3d Innovations. They made clothes and videos and were influential in the Northeast. Brian Lotti (briefly) rode for them as well as Matt Reason, Jahmal Williams, Robbie Gangemi, and East Coast stalwarts. This 3D was intended to be Brian Anderson’s (also from Connecticut) creative outlet. The brand had promise with Alex Olson, Austyn Gillette, and Tom Karangelov on the roster, but it didn’t last long and we have our first casualty on the list.

In an interview with The Good Problem from 2016, Anderson said, “It was really tough every season to make a whole new batch of board graphics, try to skate… I was getting so burnt; I was so sick of going to airport. I had already been flying my whole career for tours… I wanted to do something for me. So I went to SF with the intent of telling Brad that I was over it… told him, “No, I actually don’t even want to do it anymore. I want to just pull the plug.” And Brad says, “All right. How are we going to handle this on social media? We don’t want to say we failed, because we didn’t.” And then he joked with me, “Well, you know you can always ride for Skate Mental.” And I said, “You know what, I’d rather just be your friend.” (laughs) We’d already been through so much stuff doing 3D that was painful.”

CALL ME (917):

After quickly bailing on 3D, Alex Olson kicked a few names around before landing on Call Me (917). Olson also started making clothing and graphics under the label Bianca Chandôn including the popular “Lover” graphic which Urban Outfitters “borrowed.” For a minute, it seemed like everyone in NYC or who was NYC-adjacent rode for the brand. Their first video, The (917) Video, featured Aidan Mackey, Aaron Loreth, Nik Stain, Hugo Boserup, Stu Kirst, Nolan Benfield, Cruz Mendez, Vincent Touzery, Cyrus Bennett, Max Palmer, AO, and more. Fuck.

In 2013, he told Jenkem, “Long story short, to me it (3D) just kinda looked like Girl. And I was kinda on the idea like, let’s do something like what Palace is doing.” While 917 had somewhat of an anti-aesthetic, with graphics darting around Olson’s riffs on old graphics, NYC signage, clip art, and house music references, cars, and dolphins. The brand also used a Duster song in their first full-length, possibly adding to the slowcore band’s “unprecedented level of popularity in the 2020s, attributed to the usage of their songs on TikTok.^”

FA

In May 2013, Anthony Van Engelen and Jason Dill leave Alien Workshop via an Instagram post (as noted in Murrell’s piece and video). As rumored, Dill’s Fucking Awesome clothing brand/project evolves into a hardgoods brand by 2014. Like Girl barely waiting to start Chocolate, they quickly created Hockey in 2015. Leaning into Dill’s collages and art explorations, along with the “kid portraits,” FA unlocked the “golden ratio,” often putting rectangular graphics between the trucks.

FA immediately differentiated themselves from competitors with split veneer decks, unusual graphic applications, and distinct video treatments… and the word “Fucking.” Bolstered by the success of Bill Strobeck’s “cherry” (2014) for Supreme, featuring several FA riders, FA quickly became a dominant force in skateboarding.

WELCOME

Purposely breaking our alphabetical list, let’s talk about Welcome. Welcome was responsible for reviving shaped boards—and maybe rails—by modernizing money bumps. With that, Welcome immediately felt like an “older” brand from its inception, with founder Jason Celaya’s tastes and artwork shaping its look. Their original squad was purposely a bit oddball, somewhat park-coded, and fun, but not goofy.

I could write more, but the “Our Creed” section on their website does all the heavy lifting. I mean, just having a consumer-facing mission statement is branding 101:

Welcome is a brand built on the foundations of creativity, individuality, and nonconformity. It is a celebration of the unexpected, a nod to the power of juxtaposition and the beauty that can emerge from unlikely combinations. We are more than just a skateboarding brand - we are a community of individuals who believe in breaking boundaries and forging our own paths.

Our team is not made up of just the most technically skilled skateboarders, but rather individuals who inspire us and make us want to skate. We believe in fostering a sense of community and family, both within our team and with our fans and consumers.

We see skateboarding as an art form, and our products reflect that. From the design of our boards and apparel to the way we present ourselves as a brand, we strive to bring joy and inspiration to those who engage with us.

If these beliefs speak to you, you’re WELCOME.

FROG

In 2015, Chris Millic and Jesse Alba left Welcome and started Frog with the intention of making “purposely dumb and pointless graphics.” Fun Fact: We almost didn’t have Frog, as Alba and Millic were supposed to get on 917.

Millic discussed the 917 situation and the brand’s look with Quartersnacks in 2023 in an interview conducted by Adam Abada, saying “The exact graphics coming out in skateboarding at the time, but they were pretty legit and professional. I remember Jesse and I thinking it’d be really funny to counteract that with some really simple, stupid graphics. I was almost trying to make the graphics look like you got your board at Target or a non-skate brand first skateboard.”

The Frog concept worked and continues to work because the actual skateboarding—even when presented as light or wacky—is great skateboarding. This is not shocking.

ISLE

Nick Jensen and Paul Shier left Blueprint in 2012 and announced Isle in 2013. With Jensen’s fine art background driving the visual direction and a talented squadron, the brand was instantly embraced. A friend of mine said, “Does that dude make coffee house friend art or like, real, actual good art that could be in a gallery?” Isle was the latter.

Their debut full-length, Vase (2015), by Jacob Harris became an instant classic. Then skateboarding happened. In 2021, a chunk of the team left to join Harris’ expansion of Atlantic Drift into a hardgoods brand, but due to Harris’ health issues, it never came to fruition. Isle carried on until March 2025 when they announced they’d cease operations.

MAGENTA

Going from England to France, and predating Isle by a few years, we have Magenta, founded in 2010 by Soy Panday and brothers Vivien and Jean Feil. Their location gave them a lot of artistic license, or at least, this is how an American may perceive their brand. Panday does the majority of their graphics and that loose, yet often detailed style defines Magenta and complements their skateboarding output. Magenta is consistent. This is important. Just when you’re wondering what Magenta is up to, some Magenta happens.

Someone called Magenta’s brand of skateboarding “acoustic.” I dunno, but Magenta is definitely not as loud as Creature.

PALACE

Prior to Palace, one wouldn’t imagine a skateboarding brand collaborating with major museums, fashion houses, and the Happy Mondays. That’s a fraction of what Palace is able to cohesively present to the world. Known for their “unconventional” product descriptions, Lev Tanju aimed high and continues to do… unthinkable shit with Palace. Perhaps the captions are a bit of a smoke screen, because Palace absolutely employs strategy or at least, they probably do.

I pulled this bit from NSS Magazine:

To carry out his project, Tanju turned to Fergus “Fergadelic” Purcell, an acclaimed graphic designer known in the London skate and fashion scene, who had previously collaborated with Stussy and Marc Jacobs. To put Tanju’s demands into practice, Purcell was inspired by the iconic Penrose Triangle by Swedish artist Oscar Reutersvärd. According to the geometry texts, the Penrose triangle or impossible triangle is an impossible object, that can exist only as a two-dimensional representation and cannot be constructed in space, since it presents an impossible superposition of lines with different perspective constructions.

Palace video content is key (11 videos and counting). There’a new Palace video, you watch it and you think about Palace as a skateboarding brand. They make a short commercial about a collaboration and maybe you don’t watch it. Or you can enjoy both. That’s the cool thing about having a choice. I watch Triple D but don’t really care about food. Americans still have rights… just kidding.

POLAR

Malmo, Sweden, 2011. Pontus Alv brings Polar to skateboarding. With a smart logo, strong videos, and Jacob Ovgren sending us his sardonic view of the world through outsider cartoon graphics, the brand pops off and eventually gives us Big Boys. From the start, it was obvious Alv was curating a world with a lot of intent and reverence for skate history with careful references and homage as a storytelling constant. Alv told Jenkem in 2014, “It’s a really scary thing to grow bigger and lose what you want to be.”

Pontus is headstrong and while Polar has gone through its iterations, it’s still Polar.

PRIMITIVE

Paul Rodriguez’s Primitive seemed to follow Mike Ternasky’s original vision for Plan B, or one could argue, the Varifex model of creating a brand with the highest level of talent available. Starting as a brick-and-mortar in 2008, when P-Rod left Plan B, everyone noticed the gold foil boards and Primitive was born in 2014. P-Rod’s brand quickly followed a very streamlined DTC model (while still selling to shops), which was also very of the time.

Like some of the other brands we’re looking at, Primitive could also be considered a “lifestyle brand” in that they make a lot of things used during life outside of skateboarding. They make bags, belts, socks, and even Christmas Stockings. And when they make a video, you know you’ll be seeing the most technically sound skateboarding in the marketplace.

WKND

Founded in 2015, Grant Yansura and WKND also understood the “golden graphic ratio” and leaned into the Forbidden 14 canvas back in 2015. Yansura told Jenkem in 2015 that “We need an outlet for our fun and silly video ideas, because there’s no other place for them.” Yansura, formerly of Rip N Dip (in some capacity), created WKND’s branding with a mix of humor, homage to shit he and the team think is cool, and by leveraging the absurdity of skateboarding with elaborate skits.

Using Hollywood-style production value, said skits appeared even more ridiculous without detracting from the skateboarding. They even (kinda) had Koston for a minute. RIP Stove Skateboards.

QUASI

Lastly, we land in Ohio’s Mother Collective/Quasi. I understand the comparisons to Alien Workshop, but that’s an easy, if not dismissive take. Not “Interpol just sounds like Joy Division, man” lazy. This is different. Comparisons distract from the obvious work, care, and thought put into the brand. After a short stint as Mother Collective, the brand pivoted to Quasi, which is a nicer-sounding name and also was a pretty neat band.

Quasi keeps a liquid identity, changing wordmarks and logos often. They make hard copies of their videos too. Led by Chad Bowers, their graphics immediately tapped into an interesting space where analog and digital are the same thing. From printed collateral shrink-wrapped with their decks to audio curation, Quasi built a world by using every output available. It doesn’t really matter what Acid Ply Technology® is; it’s just cool that it exists.

CONCLUSION: What’s the common thread here?

The now-defunct brands (3D and Isle) along with the somewhat dormant Call Me (917) didn’t lean into video.

That’s really obvious and not a slight, just an observation. On some quality over quantity type shit, Isle and Call Me (917) also left us with important contributions to skate videos. But it’s hard to argue that more isn’t more.

With two of the brands utilizing numbers in their name, maybe numbers aren’t a strong brand strategy. 5Boro and GX1000 are still around, though. Hold on, I forgot about Antonio Durao’s former sponsor, Numbers Edition, which also started in the window we’re discussing. Didn’t last either and remains a “what if?”

More than breaking in 2013, new brands were able to start fresh and decide if they were going to lean into the standard model of distribution and presentation. They had a clean slate and an audience more acclimated to purchasing goods on smart phones or eComm in general. Unlike legacy brands, the digital world offered a new place to exist with the ability to make, delete, and promote in real time. Even if the analog footprints of the past still live IRL or on different platforms, those ads, videos, and graphics exist, often as a collective feeling or perception. That’s hard to break.

If you’re looking for a branding formula or Rick Rubinesque takeaway to turn into a Wisdom-Guy Meme, that’s not going to happen

But as an immediate contradiction to the above, here’s something to chew on.

3D, Polar, Frog, Isle, Primitive, FA, Call Me (917), and Magenta were all founded by relevant pro skateboarders, many of whom were still in that “window” we talk about so much. Rider-led brands or using names as branding is nothing new (Logan Earth Ski, Alva, Powell Peralta, Hosoi), but the difference is that the 2010-ish crop predominantly began with a pointed idea coming from someone who people wanted ideas from.

While Bowers is the head of Quasi, it’s a collective, with the original pros/riders helping to launch and guide the brand. Even with Tanju leading Palace, it felt as if it was coming out of the PWBC and Palace effectively created a feeling with their brand. WKND? Similar deal and also sharing a bit of the same irreverent video sauce. With Welcome, Celaya may have been more of a regional figure, but his point of view is the face of the brand as much as the team.

Of the lot, Palace is in another stratosphere when it comes to collaborations. Many of the brands have done footwear collaborations and explored other brand partnerships, but Palace redefined how a collaboration works.

So what’s left? A lot of regular skateboarding things.

You know, Roster shuffles, rebrands, softgoods, guest artists, activations, print ads, accessories, videos, a flagship shop, tours, demos, and social media… newsletters, email lists, websites, internal shit. Those are some of the avenues available to keep a brand going. You choose from the Capitalism menu, I guess. (These brands aren’t non-profits or co-ops, but maybe that’s an idea.)

When I say social media, it’s mostly Instagram and YouTube. There was never the “TikTok migration” that several trend forecasters have expected for years. In regular brand world, Meta’s ad technology worked very well for independent brands, until they didn’t. But most skate brands aren’t using targeted ads. Well, if they wanted to boost sales with targeted ads now, that shit is not happening anyway. COVID-19 was like 50 years ago.

As the digital landscape changes and becomes more enshittified by the minute, the real world is becoming real again. The thing is, the forecast isn’t awesome. Your local shop is real and they might really be feeling the crunch of the global economic panic. By the way, have you noticed that skateboarding has been like The Gap over the last few years in that everything is on sale… all the time?

Are the survivors from the list going to last another 10 years? Will they celebrate big anniversaries like Santa Cruz or Powell Peralta or even Girl/Chocolate? Shit, will Girl and Chocolate keep going?

It’s easy to drop some state-of-the-state rant like, “Kids (these takes always start with “kids”) are sick of these boutique “cool” brands, man, they want big shit again. I’m selling a lot of Zero shit lately. Y2K is over, thrifting is cooked, even workwear is done… something something about Rocco… but Rocco’s back and that hasn’t moved the needle. It’s like (some other era where shit sucked) again.” But who cares?

Trend cycles were once more visible in normie culture, but now there are subsets of “normal.” We’re in a post-fashion era of skateboarding or at least fashion doesn’t need skateboarding to sell skateboarding’s ideas. I mean, shit, fashion’s almost done with golf, so scrap that idea if you’ve been sitting on a presentation for a golf/skate crossover brand.

Pick up your friend’s phone and open Instagram (if they have it). That’s their skateboarding. Now think about whatever number you believe is accurate for “active boarders,” and you get… millions of skateboarding universes, all doing nothing and everything at once.

In 2026, anyone can make skateboards, but that doesn’t mean you have a brand.

However, something will happen and it will probably be cool. But will that come from skateboarding or will skateboarding adopt someone else’s idea? What? Did you think there was going to be some epic kicker to this piece? This Substack is free.