XO Flowers

10/29/2025

There’s a convergence happening this Saturday out in Simi Valley—a gathering of the old gods of skateboarding at the Hall of Fame Museum. You can smell the grip tape and stale beer already. I’m not exactly sure who’s on the guest list, but I do know this: Glen E. Friedman will be there—the man who froze rebellion on film long before it was commodified. Todd Huber, the mad archivist and keeper of the flame, will be presiding over his temple of urethane and plywood. And Salman Agah—Skater of the Year, Hall of Famer, and the kind of legend who’s earned every scar—will be slinging slices for the faithful. Expect a congregation of heavy hitters swapping war stories and laughing like kids again. Get yourself a piece of that. Check the list, this is going to be lit!

10/28/2025

Halloween HELLBOMB 25. THE PEOPLES CHAMP

10/23/2025

10/21/2025

Today 8:04am St George, Utah

09/14/2025

Midnight July 13, 2025. Every so often, you’ve got to step away and recharge. Creativity doesn’t come from staring at the same four walls. It comes from the road, the desert air, a jukebox blaring in a half-lit bar. For me, that means a quick escape to Joshua Tree—maybe catch a band at Pappy & Harriet’s, then wander into the national park where the sky opens up and the stars don’t give a damn about your deadlines. That’s the stuff that keeps me human.

08/22/2025

It starts in the gutter—discarded 35mm scraps, half-forgotten digital files, relics of some other life. You stack them, bruise them, scar them. Half-tone screens, waterlogged negatives, accidents that somehow become deliberate. Layer it all up and you get this Frankenstein of light and shadow—a birthday cake made of film grain, sunsets, and ghosts.

This one’s Ethan Fowler, deep in the skate-book era, shot in the fluorescent hum of a Manhattan Beach office. The molten orange bleeding through? That’s a Coachella sunset from a couple years back, smuggled into the frame like contraband. Some of these prints were done in-camera with a slide duplicator, others cooked up in the digital kitchen. Together, they’re a strange post-Covid fever dream, stitched from the bones of the past and the smoke of what’s left.

08/19/2025

August 18, 2025

08/17/2025

.shop

08/16/2025

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage.

08/14/2025

When your girl steals your favorite tee

07/11/2025

🌹

07/10/2025

One of the things I truly love about XO Flowers is the way it drags the past, kicking and screaming, back into the light. The throwback chapters hit differently. They’re not nostalgia p**n — they’re rescue missions. Because let’s face it: most of the blood, sweat, and film we spilled for magazine projects back in the day? Probably rotting in landfills or buried under layers of internet noise.

So yeah, it’s good — damn good — to give these moments a second wind. To let them breathe again, under a new sky. To show what went down behind the curtain.

The new issue goes deep — 40 pages worth — into the DVS/Matix junkyard shoot from 2001. Dust, steel, busted glass, and busted knuckles. It’s all there. A few never-before-seen frames of Kieth Hufnagel, still moving like jazz in a scrapyard ballet. And yes — that car ollie. The one that made you stop flipping pages and just stare.

Board setup shot by . Car ollie by Ballard.

We were there. And now, you can be too.