“Have we hit a bump in the road? Yes. How much of this was our causing? Nearly all of it."

Only a few months after a dismal December quarter that saw Vans drop nine percent in sales and subsequently pull its sponsorship of the US Open and peel open the back door for some employees, its prez Kevin Bailey has shocked the market revealing “the brand has lost its grip on its image, as well as creative practices.”

“Have we hit a bump in the road? Yes. How much of this was our causing? Nearly all of it,” Bailey told Footwear News. “Our consumer said we want more style and versatility, but we kept pumping out Classics. When I wasn’t involved with Vans, I saw how much we spent on product development dwindle to places where no one spends that little.”

He ain’t wrong. 

Y’don’t have to trawl too deep into a surfer or skater’s wardrobe to find a dirty ol pair of Off the Walls or Authentics, shoes unchanged in almost fifty years.

It’s a brand with legacy, literally defining the word Authentic.

“Vans is one of the greatest legacy companies not only in skateboarding, but in the worldwide community of action sports,” says Stacey Peralta.

You’ll remember Pauly Van Doren, the legendary founder of  Vans, who was born just as the Great Depression was kicking into gear, died a couple of years back, aged ninety. 

Van Doren, a high-school drop-out, whose nickname was Dutch the Clutch, created the Van Doren Rubber Co in 1966 with his little brother, James, who died in 2011, and their pals Gordon, Ryan Emmert and Serge D’Elia. 

The first store, in Anaheim, California, sold American-made shoes direct to the public with the slogan, “Canvas Shoes for the Entire Family” at prices between two and four dollars a pair. 

On opening day, Pauly forgot to put cash into the register. 

“It was so stupid,” he said, telling customers to come back with the exact cash. “We sold something like 22 pairs of shoes that first day, and the remarkable thing is every single person came back and paid. Treat people like you would want to be treated.”

Should countries be able to use sporting events as a way to improve their reputation, even if they have a poor human rights record?

El Salvador has been using Sportswashing as a means of improving its international reputation, despite serious human rights abuses perpetrated by its government.

The troubled Central American country of six-million souls has turned to professional surfing, particularly through its partnership with the World Surf League (WSL), to generate positive media coverage and international attention.

The WSL, as you know, casts itself as a real progressive organisation, equality, equity etc, first to throw equal cash at the gals, allow biological men to surf as women, they don’t like plastic and so on.

However, all the good shouldn’t be used to deflect attention from the problematic aspects of the WSL’s partnership with El Sals government.

I would suggest, sponsor cash aside, the WSL has a responsibility to use its platform to promote positive change and to ensure that its events are not used as a tool for government propaganda.

Government abuses in El Salvador have been particularly targeted towards those who are seen as critical of the regime, including journalists, human rights defenders, and members of the opposition.

The government has been accused of using anti-gang operations as a cover for targeted killings of suspected gang members and their families, as well as other individuals who are deemed to be “undesirable” by the government.

According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, at least seven journalists were killed in the country between 2019 and 2021. Many more have faced threats, harassment, and intimidation from both criminal gangs and government officials. Critics argue that the WSL should use its platform to speak out on behalf of journalists and human rights defenders who are under threat in the country.

The use of Sportswashing by El Salvador raises important ethical questions about the role of sports in international politics.

Should countries be able to use sporting events as a way to improve their reputation, even if they have a poor human rights record?

And what responsibility do athletes, teams, and governing bodies have to speak out about these issues?

More importantly, do you remember what happened last year in El Salvador when brave Griffin Colapinto stomped eventual world champion Filipe Toledo into the dirty brown water? And Brazilian sports fans threatened grave retribution, including Death to Griff, and boycotts at the following event in Brazil, which never happened?

The Surf City El Salvador Pro runs from June 9 to 18 at La Libertad.

Seven-thousand square feet of wildly fertile volcanic dirt one hundred footsteps from oft-times epic beachbreaks.

The Australian surfer Ozzie Wright, and musician wife Mylee, have listed their long-time family home in Suffolk Park, a short gambol south of Byron Bay, with hopes of close to three million dollars. 

The four-bedroom, two bathroom joint, with its adjunct studio, at 4 Beachside Drive is on seven-thousand square feet of wildly fertile volcanic dirt one hundred footsteps from oft-times epic beachbreaks.

“Sundrenched outdoor entertaining areas to the front and rear of the block enveloped by established tropical gardens and level lawns offering complete seclusion, there’s even room for a pool!”

Modest as is, unsurprising given the couple’s fleet of young kids, “There is definitely room to put your own mark on this property with a few personal upgrades and fully maximise your asset.”

Oz, who is forty-seven, and whose art and black-jeans-white-shirt approach to beachwear and homemade music inspired the hipster movement in the early 2000’s, ain’t no novice when it comes to buying, selling and renting houses. 

Two years ago, Oz listed for rent the holiday spread he and Mylee bought for $1.5 million in 2019, a dreamy beach shack on a quarter-acre of pristine national park dirt in Broadwater, one hour south of Byron.

Oz and Mylee’s Happy Sun House, is, as per the listing,  “a colourful beach shack perched on top of a hill, looking out to uninterrupted ocean views… A mystical meeting of beach and bush. A cosy and rustic shack not without things we love like, luxury linen sheets and a fully equipped kitchen… A truly blissful beach shack experience. A place where the sun hits the walls in a most beautiful way. An intentional space to disconnect from the modern world and reconnect to your creativity, gently allowing nature to ground down a busy mind.”

Four hundred bucks a night, if you want in, with a fifteen percent discount if you book for a week. A cleaning cost and service fee on top of that. Think three-ish gees for a week in a little slice of Australian heaven.

In 2018, Oz sold his two-storey Narrabeen house built in the style of Frank Lloyd Wright with its notes of Japanese Imperial Hotel, and which he’d owned since 2003 before moving out in 2013 and buying a house in Newport, a few suburbs north. (Later sold for 2.3 million.)

It was in the Narrabeen house, one hundred metres from the famous sandbottom left at 5 Loftus Street, that the surf movie classic Doped Youth was filmed in the summer of 2003-4. The movie, which was conceived and made by Ozzie and Waves editor Adam Blakey, starred Kelly Slater, Tom Carroll, Ozzie, Mick Fanning and Joel Parkinson and was released as a DVD with the magazine Waves.

Two years later 2015, the pair, with kids, joined the Sydney exodus north to Byron Bay, buying the house in Suffolk Park, which is currently for sale, for $1.15 million.