THE JOURNAL

Undercroft Skate Space in 1989. Photograph by Tim Leighton Boyce/Curtis McCann Southbank, courtesy The Read and Destroy Archive
Any stroll down London’s South Bank today is not complete without a gawp at the resident skaters at the concrete undercroft beneath Queen Elizabeth Hall – they have been there doing tricks and looking rad for half a century. This month, the Southbank Centre is paying tribute to this milestone. See Skate 50, an exhibition using photography and video to tell the story of the space, the skaters that occupy it and, of course, their style.
The sight of someone speeding past with a board attached to their feet is familiar to many of us; in 2017, it was estimated there were 85 million skateboarders worldwide. If the activity has come a long way since its beginnings in empty swimming pools in mid-century California (it’s now an Olympic sport), there has been a consistent thread of cool since the start. From the baggy shapes to the graphic T-shirts and chunky sneakers, the look of skate style has had an enduring influence on what we wear.
“Skating has been crossing over with fashion for many years,” says Skate 50’s curator Cedar Lewisohn, who worked on the exhibition alongside the photographer Andy J Simmons. “Back in the day, it was part of culture in London to mix and match styles. Right now, a 1990s revival is in place.”
“Adidas Superstar trainers, work pants, Jordans,” Simmons adds. “This is how skaters dressed in the 1990s, but all those clothes still look good today.”
Beyond the undercroft, skate style is present at fashion shows by brands including Willy Chavarria – where oversized shapes, chinos and patches were part of a collection shown on a runway with a crosswalk – and Sacai, with graphic tees, baggy shorts and carpenter jeans. There are also brands where skate style is inherent to their look – see Carhartt WIP’s 1990s vibe, or the preppy takes at Aimé Leon Dore and Noah.

Undercroft Skate Space in 1978. Photograph by Tim Leighton Boyce/Russ Howell Southbank, courtesy The Read and Destroy Archive
“For me, skate embodies the perfect crossroad between function and aesthetic,” says Charaf Tajer, the founder and creative director of Casablanca. “In skate culture, style is central to identity and it’s one of the first schools of fashion I studied.”
Tajer is far from the only one observing skate culture as a world where style seems to be innate – this might be a huge part of why it has consumed menswear recently. “It’s hard to overstate the influence of the skate industry and skaters themselves on contemporary streetwear,” says Tyler Watamanuk, the author of streetwear history Bigger Than Fashion. “Even just from a graphic design perspective, the whole language of pop-art parody, logo flips and irreverent bootlegging was something skate brands were doing decades ago.”
Adam Cheung, style writer at GQ, emphasises nonchalance as fundamental to appeal. “It was never built to be fashionable in the first place,” he says. “It came from function… That practicality accidentally created a silhouette that just works. Relaxed, comfortable, slightly anti-establishment.”
Watamanuk argues that part of reason skate style has become a staple of dressing is because it fits into a wider tradition. “At its core, it draws from the canon of classic American style,” he says. “Workwear, denim, T-shirts, sneakers. These are democratic, easy-wearing clothes that most people already understand on some level.”
There is, however, a secret sauce. “There’s no real way around saying it: skaters are fucking cool, and the clothes inherit some of that attitude,” Watamanuk says.
Authenticity is key to this. Skating requires a commitment to the bit or, indeed, the trick. Steve Grimes, the art director at Casablanca and skater since the age of 12, is very cognisant of this fact. He thinks it’s crucial for brands to respect the culture rather than take from it.
“Skateboarding has a long history of leading trends. As skateboarders, we can be quite protective of that nuance between what’s cool or not,” Grimes says. “The worst thing I could do is lean into that culture and my friends to see it as wack or missing the mark.”
Of course, as non-skaters, the rest of us need to walk that line between cool and “wack”. “The biggest mistake is going too literal,” Cheung says. “Head-to-toe ‘skater’ feels like cosplay.”
Cheung advises mixing it up instead. This can be as simple as silhouette – rather than going all-in on a baggy silhouette, stick to one piece – or finish. Too box-fresh is also a no-no. “Skate style usually benefits from a bit of wear,” Cheung says.
Then there’s the slightly delicate issue of how anyone over 25 wears skate style without triggering 2026’s most-hated adjective – cringe. Lewisohn leans into it. “My partner coined the term ‘skater dad’ – a style I happily embrace,” he says. “I am not a skater – or a dad. But I do wear sneakers, Carhartt and hoodies. I think it’s just about wearing the clothes that make you feel and look good.”
Watamanuk suggests aiming for consistency. “Anyone would be wise to take a couple of sartorial cues from [older skaters] Jason Dill or Mark Gonzales,” he says. “They have figured out how to let their style evolve into middle age without quieting the personality that made it so compelling in the first place.”