Behind the Brand
At 3am on a spring Costa Mesa night, I was abruptly awakened by a dream so life-like it felt like a memory. At my local skatepark, I was teaching a skate lesson—my job at the time—but, strangely, everyone was riding the same board. “When are the new graphics coming out?” A kid questioned as he approached me. “What are you talking about?” I replied. The kid scoffed, “Haha, very funny. For ‘Still’ — your board company. Ring a bell?” My eyes sprung open. I knew what I had to do.
Early the next morning, I immediately sent a text to my friend [Ben Biondo] that read, “We are starting a brand called Still Skateboards.” He replied, without hesitation, “I’m in.”
I knew nothing about starting a brand or what it took to sustain it, but I was on a mission. Obsessed, I began reading, listening to podcasts and meeting with past mentors to pick their brains. I remember sending Professor Schmitt a hail Mary email—I did not expect him to respond—but he was the only person I trusted to make the boards.
In a blink of an eye, I was sitting in Paul’s [Professor Schmitt] office at PS Stix going over shapes, sizes and MOQs. Keep in mind, I had no seed money or legal ownership of the name Still Skateboards. I had the Instagram handle and domain name. That’s it. On paper, this brand was not even close to happening. But, that was before receiving an unexpected phone call from my grandpa.
I found out my grandparents had been investing in an account under my name accessible upon turning 21. “I can maintain controlling interest and continue to invest for you, or you can take it over and manage it yourself,” my grandpa explained. I told my grandpa I knew it was a risky decision, but I wanted to liquidate the stocks and start a company. To my surprise, he started filing the transfer of ownership that week. It was happening.
I did not come from a wealthy family. Paycheck to paycheck was all I knew. I could not afford to pass up this opportunity, even if there was a chance of losing it all. $13,000 sounded like a million to me, but I learned very quickly how fast it can go with a start-up.
Once the funds hit the business account, I started making moves. Ben Biondo and I conceptualized the logo and first graphic series, I ordered t-shirt blanks, built the skeleton of a website, and planned a trip to Seattle to film a launch video. We sent the art into production at PS Stix, pulled an all-nighter screen printing 100 t-shirts individually by hand, then started spreading the word around town and social media through our personal accounts. We did not even have a first post on the Still Skateboards instagram yet, but I already had skate shops direct messaging me for pre-orders. Everything was moving so fast. It was exhilarating.
The brand was set to launch on my birthday [September 3rd], three weeks prior to marrying Madeline. It was July 2019, the Seattle trip was coming up and the boards were still in production. This trip coincided with my bachelor party. The goal was simple—film a video part on a Still skateboard to promote the brand and enjoy a week away from home with my best friend Berkeley Anderson.
I had not filmed a full video part in 5 years. People normally spend months on a project like this, but I was attempting to pull it off in 6 days. I put a lot of pressure on myself to deliver something as good, if not better, than what people had seen from me previously. I had publicly announced this video was in the works, so I couldn’t come back empty handed. I was so nervous I could hardly sleep.
As far as the trip logistics, everything was seemingly going smoothly—plane tickets were purchased, the Airbnb was booked, and I hired a videographer. Then the day I was to fly out, I woke up to an email saying the boards were not going to arrive in time. Shit!
That was simply not an option. I got on the phone with Professor Schmitt and pleaded, “I don’t care what it takes—I need the boards today.” He replied saying that the boards were on the border of Tijuana. For context, this is a 2.5 hour drive from where I live. I had skate lessons booked from 2pm-5pm and a flight to catch at 6pm. It was cutting it close, but without a second thought, I got in my car and headed for the border.
I managed to retrieve the boards, make it to the skatepark on time, teach 3 lessons back-to-back, then catch my flight by the skin of my teeth. I have never been more relieved to sit on a plane in my life. An anxiety attack, 7 hours of travel and a duffel bag full of skateboards — I started to get the picture of what it really takes to start a brand.
