Quiksilver True Wetsuits
Today, Quiksilver Japan unveiled their new wetsuit/apparel mash-up: TRUE WETSUITS! That's right, modern suits—complete with crisp-looking button down and and a tac-sharp tie. They even offer a tuxedo model! I can't imagine how Bondian one must feel getting barreled in a tuxedo…

You Won’t Believe Quiksilver’s New Wetsuits!

Quiksilver Japan's new wetsuit line is insane, perfect, desirable, sexy! Senseless awesome beauty!

I’m widely considered a relatively well-dressed man. I mind my style. I stay sharp. I know a few things about a few things: good leather boots, tailored shirts, fine selvedge fabrics, natural dyes, varieties of collars, hems, cuts, and trims.

Which is tough, as a surfer. Because wetsuits, by and large, are just about the most unpleasant looking garments I don regularly. They’re not flattering to my generous thighs and derriere. They tend to bunch up around my mid-section, presenting a deceptively chubby silhouette to a public that really should be gazing upon the bronzed first trimester of a whiskey gut.

But today my life changed. Today all is right in my world. Because today Quiksilver Japan unveiled their new wetsuit/apparel mash-up: TRUE WETSUITS!

That’s right, modern suits, complete with crisp-looking button down and and a tac-sharp tie. They even offer a tuxedo model! I can’t imagine how Bondian one must feel getting barreled in a tuxedo!(Come to think about it, they should sell the suits with flasks! That’s my second grievance with surfing! There’s few options available for mid-session boozing! And I surf so much better shithouse drunk!)

Here’s some very Japanese details, all (sic):

“TRUE WETSUITS,” the 1st suit of its kind in the world, which can be worn on business occasions, for parties, and, of course, surfing.

The “TRUE WETSUITS” is designed for both business and surfing.

The “TRUE WETSUITS” is designed to fit every aspect of users’ lives to make both life and surfing more fun. A must-have item for the busy, modern person.

The “TRUE WETSUITS” is not only an authentic, high quality wetsuit, but also a “suits” that can be worn on business occasions.

The “TRUE WETSUITS” is available with three styles – black, navy, and tuxedo, that is appropriate even for business occasions after surfing. The “black” and “navy” models feature a single breasted two-button jacket that can be worn casually.

The jacket and pants are made of a 2mm super high-stretch jersey neoprene, the same fabric we use to make regular wetsuits.

Two antique silver buttons are used on the front of the jacket and plastic dot buttons are used on the cuffs.

The jacket also features side vents to allow a comfortable posture while waiting for waves.

The shirt has been designed with a dress shirt silhouette and a crisp collar to create a formal impression.

Alas, the suits, which take two months to be produced once ordered, cost  300,000 yen, which if you aren’t up on exchange rates is like, I dunno, a million euros, or fifty billion pesos or something.

No, wait, I googled it: It’s $2,513.33. Which is $.33 more than my current Bondian wetsuit budget.

But if anyone over at Quiksilver Japan is reading this, and I’m sure they are, I’m a 42 jkt, 33 pants, I look damned good in a tux, and even better in the water. San Francisco’s surfer boys will just love my steez.

Click here to order. 

Is Surfline too sexually provocative?

Also, could Jack Robinson be better, someday, than John John?

Surfline has maybe a weird sexual thing going on. They recently attempted to prostitute their own photographers (here) and are now suggesting untoward things about what John John Florence and Jack Robinson are doing whilst playing in the ocean. “DANGER!” The advert to the post reads “JOHN JOHN AND JACK TAG-TEAM WEST OZ.” and then, once clicked upon, “JOHN JOHN AND JACK ROBINSON’S TAG-TEAM REALITY SHOW AT THE BOX.” There is so much hot innuendo that I sweat merely re-typing the words.

Does Surfline not know what “tag-team” usually means in Australia? Or “box” everywhere? Maybe not. But, then again, probably. Such a sexually libertine group of men pretending to be simple ocean prognosticators!

In any case, and more importantly, is it possible that Jack Robinson might someday be better than JJF? I have had some very, very, very long talks with Mr. Robinson, Jack’s dad, on the rocks at North Point and he told me that the magnetic qualities of the very rocks we were standing on are special and have helped make Jack the surfer he is. I laughed (inside) at the time but watching the boy grow I think, “That old Mr. Robinson might be on to something…Look at that nerve! Look at that style!” What do you think? Is it possible?

Surfer and Vissla made this dreamy little video of him last year and, aside from the pan flute intro, it is really good. In Surfline’s hands I don’t doubt there would have been some heavy bondage insinuation. Such an erotic assemblage pretending to tell you that the waves are 2-3+!

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Brendon Gibbens, Noa Deane and Dane Reynolds
This is Brendon Gibbens (boy next door, from South Africa), Noa Deane (dangerous boy you don't bring home to mama, Australia) and Dane Reynolds (old-school dream boat for older gals!), at the premiere of Dane's beautiful movie Loaded. | Photo: Marinelayerproductions.com

Noa Deane Does Proust!

Noa Deane, yes, he, the bewitching Australian, does the Marcel Proust questionnaire as popularised by Vanity Fair magazine.

Noa Deane is the hottest surfer in Australia. He makes more than your daddy, sugar or biological (high six figures), his own daddy master shapes, his former gal cuckolded an uppity VJ, he says guns are sexy, beer is sexier and tweaked-out airs are the sexiest thing of all!

Let’s see how he responds to the Proust Questionnaire…

Your favourite virtue: Honesty.

Your favourite qualities in a man: Trustwothy.

Your favourite qualities in a woman: Friendship, the ability to love.

Your chief characteristic: Judging people without meeting them.

What you appreciate the most in your friends: Everything.

Your main fault: Letting things take hold of my emotions and not trusting other people.

Your favourite occupation: A terrible rapper.

Your idea of happiness: Playing guitar with my friends.

Your idea of misery: Being told what to do.

If not yourself, who would you be: A poser.

Where would you like to live: Yamba (in Northern NSW).

Your favourite real-life heroes: All my friends, but (filmmaker) Toby Cregan and Creed McTaggart, especially.

Your favourite musicians: Kurt Cobain and Daniel Johns.

Your favourite food and drink: Japanese food and regular beer.

What you hate the most: People who are stand-off-ish.

World history characters you hate the most: Gaddaffi. Man, he was bad.

The natural talent you’d most like to be gifted with: Craftsmanship.

How you wish to die: To slip away painlessly.

What is your present state of mine: Relaxed.

Your favourite motto: Weed before beer you’re in the clear, beer before grass you’re on your ass.

Just in: Taj Burrow’s Gonna Be A Daddy!

Thirty-seven year childhood to end for Australian surfing champion!

There comes a time in every man’s life, at least in those with a lil game, when another late night, another round of drinks, another exploratory tongue bath by some provocative teen does kinda nothing.

It ain’t the disappearance of magic, more the realisation that there’s gotta be more to your existence than willing enthusiasm into a prong that, seriously, is over this shit. Like, brother, haven’t we been through this a thousand times before? Don’t you realise there’s something more profound than… friction? 

Anyway, Taj Burrow found love last year in the form of the Bondi model Rebecca Jobson (she calls him “soul meat”). Old pals, first, lovers, second. Isn’t that just the recipe for long term joy?

As Britain’s The Daily Mail reported, “He’s suffered plenty of heartbreak in the past, but it seems Taj Burrow may have finally caught a break in the love department. The steady relationship must come as a welcome relief for Burrow, who dated The Face host Cheyenne Tozzi for several years. The relationship famously came to an end when pictures surfaced of Tozzi with oil heir Brandon Davis canoodling on a beach in the US. Burrow was heartbroken at the time, telling Stab surfing magazine that he couldn’t get the images out of his head.”

(Click here for the story, written by BeachGrit’s Chas Smith) 

Anyway, a few hours ago, Taj’s gal Rebecca announced the pregnancy on IG. “Swallowed a watermelon seed 15 weeks ago and were (sic) pretty excited about it @tajamos.”

Couldn’t happen to a prettier, more love drunk couple.

Taj Burrow Rebecca Jobson


And to wrap a little bow on it all, Taj is going to win the Margarets contest (he’ll beat Nat Young in the final). Who can stop a man who’ll soon be hypnotised by the music of a cooing baby and the tinkling of a toy bell in a tiny fist? And who, soon, will come to appreciate the staggeringly beautiful sight of a woman feeding her child, a breast proffered and taken, the teat so full and so perfect with the juice of humankind and yet so inaccessible! Those seams, ready to burst! Even the biggest bubby needs dinner!

Who knew they were so practical?

Dawn Patrols Suck!

The most over-hyped ritual in surfing… 

I opted to sleep-in today instead of hunting waves at dawn. I feel it was justified… I was on airport duty this morning and even if the airport is right next to the beach, it was a good enough excuse. When I did get to the airport to pick-up my lady, it was knee-high and full of SUP-pilots.

My decision was based on yesterday. I was also on airport duty yesterday morning. I decided to pack my boards and go for a dawnie once I dropped my lady off for her six am flight. The surf was one-foot, onshore.

Pissed-off and sleep deprived, I woke-up my mate who lives above the bay. I got him to make me a cuppa and then got him excited about a surf with promises of an increase in swell. Checking the conditions again, it was still one foot. At that point I fucked off home, leaving him to try his luck and curse my name for waking him up.

After some coffee and WSL action, I went back in the arvo and got fun three-foot lefts with only five of us out. I was no longer tired and I felt pretty loose… I had a good surf.

The point is, dawnies suck.

You cut your sleep short to wake up to cold air temperatures. Your body is stiff, even after 15 minutes of stretching and a litre of black coffee. You paddle out in the dark and it’s already crowded. You instantly become more likely to be bitten by a curious great white. You get cold and surf shit because you’re tired and still stiff. You then come in angry and smelling of piss with strong overtones of coffee because of the 12 coffee and cold induced wetty-warmers you did…

Fuck the dawnie!

I’d much rather sleep a little longer, wake up and spend an hour reading BBC news while drinking a litre of black coffee. I’ll make a nice breakfast for the missus, enjoy the benefits of that act of attentiveness and then saunter down to the beach feeling awake and loose. Subsequently, I’ll have a much better surf.

It can be small, onshore and crowded. However, in the afternoon, I’ll still have a better surf than if I had got up at five am on the best day of the year and went straight to the beach.

If I’m loose and awake, I’ll get any wave I like. I’ll out paddle the crowd and use Machiavellian means to cause confusion among the mals and SUPs. When I’m awake, I can be cunt without looking like a cunt. In the mornings, I just look ham-fisted.

In the afternoons, I am able to feel my boards out better and generate more speed, which makes small onshore days much more fun. In the morning, I feel like an uncoordinated dead weight.

If I’m loose and awake, everything in my day is better.

Dawnies are sometimes a necessity, I admit that, and I’ll still occasionally go for one.

But for the most part it’s an over-hyped ritual which others can keep. Maybe, I’m becoming what I fear… a rarefied, middleclass urbanite.

But I’d forgo the early starts, active sharks and crowds for sex, sleep, coffee and a limber body any day.