See that Jenkem article about keeping skate shops in business? Cheers to them for publicly kicking off a much needed conversation. We think it’s an important one, so let’s keep it going.
“Uh, I mean…I don’t really know.”
To call this the end of the conversation would be a bit dishonest – while they were the final words mumbled to me from behind the skate shop counter, the word “conversation” implies a basic level of politeness and engagement. For example, a conversation usually involves simple things like occasional eye contact – which this guy, in his early twenties, used only for his phone. Whatever the name of our interaction, it was clear that it was the type where we both wished that I was somewhere else.
I started skating just over 20 years ago – right after Mouse dropped and Tom Penny disappeared back across the Atlantic. As anyone from my generation knows, skate shops were the lifeline of our culture. The internet was still nascent, direct-to-consumer sales were largely nonexistent, and, unless you had your hands on a magazine or a CCS catalog, the skate shop was the only way to tap in or get what you needed. Skateboarding at large was also at a much different place, developmentally adolescent, and many of the shops that ran it acted accordingly.
Ted Barrow recently put together a solid piece for Transworld outlining the “vibe” of judgment that permeated the floor of most skate shops during this era. As he puts it, “the skate shop staff was probably at the top of the pecking order” and “getting vibed at the skate shop was and is a rite of passage”. Well put. Like Ted, I too am somewhat nostalgic for the silly, insecure aura of judgment that hung over every interaction at my town’s skate shop. However, it’s the “is” not the “was” in his statement that concerns me. As Barrow notes, “I am still filled with a looming apprehension whenever I enter a shop…a feeling of sickening discomfort”. Something tells me that he’s not the only one. With no disrespect to Barrow, who wonders if the lingering “vibeology” today might or might not be refreshing, I think that the truth is something far different.
From 2002 to about 2006, I was lucky enough to help run a skate shop. I learned a few important lessons. Lesson one: man, is it hard. Margins on hard goods are ridiculously low, it ain’t easy finding affordable rent that’s in an area that also makes parents feel safe, and while they would never dream of asking for a discount at a chain store that could easily afford it, everyone wants one in your shop – even if all they’re buying is a sheet of griptape. I can’t imagine the endless headaches that shops have to deal with today. However, I also learned this: despite the struggle, our shops serve a powerful and important purpose. Historically, skateboarding has given people a place to belong – people, like me, who found little to identify with in more traditional pastimes such as team sports. Or people who had much harder upbringings than I did but, in skateboarding, found a home and sense of purpose. Due to their position in local communities, skate shops have the unique ability to support and help provide meaning to maturing young people at a very vulnerable age all while allowing us, the actual skateboarders, to maintain the integrity of our culture on our terms. That’s important stuff, and, no matter how much changes in skateboarding,
I remain convinced that no one is better positioned to keep us alive than our local shop.
Now that I’m a bit older, I have had the chance to do some traveling around the country. Whenever I am in a new city, I make sure to visit the skate shop (see the list below) because, if I wander into the right shop, I’m still (even at 34 years old) a kid in a candy store, and, knowing what it’s like on the other end, I’d like to support what matters most in skateboarding. But here’s the thing: a lot of skate shops are blowing it.
Decades ago, as the world was much more localized, shops could perhaps afford the ethos of “vibeology”. Furthermore, when skateboarders were met with disrespect at every turn – from their school, their parents, the middle class at large – it’s not hard to understand the need to be defensive. So, historically, the cause for some resentment and protection is not without precedent. Still, it’s important to understand that’s the tone that we have set.
I can’t imagine that the general population gives much thought to skateboard shops. However, when they do, say someone’s kid wants to buy his (or, increasingly, her) first skateboard and Mom has questions, then I suspect that the initial association would be negative. And why shouldn’t it be? Whether initially justified or not, after 20-30 years, our cool guy vibes have taught them not to like us. To walk into a skateboard shop, the average parent likely assumes, is to risk judgment, expose your child to questionable behavior, or, maybe worst of all, have him (or her) treated disrespectfully.
In 1995, parents didn’t have too many options. I think that we all know that’s not the case in 2019. None of this parental apprehension is news to the local shop’s competitor, the larger companies selling on the internet (who, it should be noted, do nothing to support your local skate scene). Take Tactics, for example, the behemoth mailorder out of Eugene, OR that is savvy enough to offer “FREE U.S. SHIPPING – EVERY ORDER. EVERY DAY.”. According to their site, they “exist” to offer “the best experience…while making a positive impact on the world”. They would even like to welcome you to “the Tactics tribe”. Whether true or not, I rarely see that type of PR from a local shop.
How about the ancient and most tried of foes, CCS? Well, If you need help from them, then you can just e-mail “Customer Care” (“Need help? Don’t be shy.”), or, if you happen to be in Portland, then stop by and “help yourself to a free cup of coffee while you’re at the shop”. Do parents in your town have any reason to believe that you “care” about them or their kids? And, man… free coffee? Talk about speaking parents’ language. Really, none of this is anywhere near revolutionary. It’s all an exercise in what most businesses know full well – how you treat the people who walk in your door is essential.
So, how are local shops fighting back and advocating for themselves? At many times, pathetically.
Over the past few years, I have been into what are, and it’s important to think of them this way, “small businesses” where no one said a word to me my entire visit; the employee behind the counter told me that he wished he could help me better, but he was pretty hungover; a bunch of guys sat around swearing loudly and drinking PBRs at 1 PM; and, of course, I’ve been vibed. It’s a bit harder to vibe someone in their mid-30s than their early teens, but people do their best to find a way. And please know that this is only the beginning; I have made many more visits to shops, only to leave embarrassed to be a skateboarder. At this point, my wife refuses to even go into skate shops with me; she has had too many bad experiences, and the people make her uncomfortable.
Here’s the thing: you have no demographic that is more core or a greater advocate than me. I am a die-hard skate shop supporter who also happens to be comfortably middle class. I have expendable income, and when I walk into your shop, I am planning to spend this income because a) this skateboarding stuff is my passion, and b) I believe in what skate shops stand for. Even if your shop has nothing that I want, I will still find something to buy – just to have your back. However, often enough, I leave with with my money happily still in my pocket. And I do so because you give me reason to. And if even I, your most loyal customer, refuse to spend money in your shop, then you might as well give up on parents.
Make no mistake: I have also been to a number of shops that are amazing. The folks at Recess in Boone, NC are super friendly and knowledgeable. When you walk into that store, they will look you in the eye, smile, and thank you for coming in. They will check up on you every now and then, just to see if they can help. My wife, feeling at ease and happening to be in need of some winter clothing, spent over $300 on snowboard gear (like hell that would have happened if she felt vibed). The folks at Blue & Gold, in Anchorage, absolutely crush it. As you walk in the door, the first thing you will find is a large statement of core values posted on the opposing wall – values such as “brotherhood” and “respect”, being a shop that “welcomes anyone that rides…with open arms”. And you know what? The shop lives it. They practically ooze positivity. Check their Insta: they post photos of people from all walks of life who have come by the shop – usually, the caption is something to the effect of (and I’m definitely paraphrasing here), “thank you so much for your support. We are blessed to be able to serve our community.” No cool guy vibes here, only love for skateboarding and a warm welcome. And this only the beginning; I have been to many shops that are doing things right.
Recess Board Shop’s logo – “Service Matters”.
To be clear, by no means do I wish to downplay the myriad of hurdles that local skate shops face just to stay in business and compete with the internet. A number of well-known shops have gone out of business in recent years, and I have no doubt that many of them did things right. It’s not an easy game, and I respect that. I am not trying to oversimplify the matter.
With that said, as a culture at large, we have some growing up to do. More importantly, if we wish to survive, then growing up is imperative. Whine about it all you want, but the Olympics are coming, the very nature of skateboarding is changing, and people have more options than ever about where they want to shop. If we hope to continue to keep the integrity of our culture intact, as only skate shops can, and keep our communities vibrant (something tells me CCS isn’t going to advocate for my getting my town a skatepark), then we need to take better control of our narrative. If we don’t, then someone else definitely will. This begins with treating your customers right. The essentials of service are easy to learn and imperative if you wish to stay alive as a brick and mortar store.
And we don’t have to sacrifice our identity as skateboarders while we’re at it. By way of example, in between between chatting up a first-time board buyer who walked in the door (which, make no mistake, made that kid feel very special), the dude at Blue & Gold was also able to discuss with me just how chuddy the ground really is at the D7 blocks in New York and the nuances of 180ing the hard way out of a back feeble (I still haven’t gotten that down, by the way). The biggest obstacle, it seems to me, is misplaced and out-of-date allegiance to some philosophically vague but actionably clear notion of “core”. If “core” means being too cool to be friendly, then you’re wasting your time trying to run a business. If “core” means drinking openly during business hours, then you must not really want to pay your bills. If “core” means making a kid feel vibed because he wants to learn about skateboarding, then I want nothing to do with it.
Skateboarding claims to be inclusive, and so many in our community are. However, for a number of us, that’s horse shit, and if we look deep inside, we know it.
Statement of values at Blue & Gold Boardshop (Anchorage, AK).
It’s time for all or us, not just some, to grow up. Maybe a few shops can survive the level 5 tremors shaking our industry, but, unless we can collectively be mature enough to take responsibility, then skateboarding will not be ours for much longer. Understand, if you work at a skate shop, then every time you are too cool to engage, you don’t just hurt your shop – you hurt all the other shops too. If a customer has a bad experience in your store, then, fair or not, that is how that person will view all skateboard shops. If we really care about skateboarding, then we have a responsibility to represent it positively. When it comes down to it, customer service is by no means the only tool necessary to save skateboard shops, but it is the starting point.
Remember that shop I mentioned at the beginning? Back in ‘97, when I first started skating, that place was the booming epicenter of all things skateboarding in my town. Sure, I was a kid learning to ollie, so I took my share of vibing. Nevertheless, I remember it fondly. I still have my VHS copy of Photosynthesis that they assured me was well worth my $20 (man, were they ever right). But, life moved on, and so did I – overseas, across the country. I hadn’t been back since 2005.
However, this year, on a stop through town, after visiting friends, I knew that I couldn’t leave without swinging by and supporting the shop where it all started. After a couple minutes of noticing how slim and forlorn the shoe wall had grown and how much the guy ignoring me from behind the counter looked and acted like an extra from American History X, I figured it was time to move on. As I walked out, I thought to myself, “if I still lived here, then I would order from CCS too”.
The good times, the bad times, and the ones in-between, these are the skate shops that I visited over the past couple years. My observations on the current state of local shops are based on my experiences inside their doors.
35th North (Seattle, WA)
Ambush (Kennesaw, GA)
The Block (Jacksonville, FL)
Blue & Gold (Anchorage, AK)
Bluetile (Columbia, SC)
Cal’s Pharmacy (Portland, OR)
Comfort (Chattanooga, TN)
The Cuckoo’s Next (Columbus, GA)
Faith (Birmingham, AL)
Galactic G (Orlando, FL)
The Grind (Douglasville, GA)
Humidity (New Orleans, LA)
Kona (Jacksonville, FL)
Plus (Orlando, FL)
Push (Asheville, NC)
Recess (Boone, NC)
Ruin (Dunwoody, GA)
Shrunken Head (Portland, OR)
Sixth Avenue (Nashville, TN)
Skate Life (Rome, GA)
Skatepark of Tampa (Tampa, FL)
Southside Skatepark (Houston, TX)
Stratosphere (Atlanta, GA)
Tactics (Bend, OR)
Venue (Richmond, VA)
Westside (Tarpon Springs, FL)
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