InstaSurf

I love surf videos, I could watch them endlessly. And I love seeing a photo that has captured a moment that resonates with a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on.

But I’m starting to think the obsession isn’t always good.

Getting inspired is one thing, but sitting at a bus stop in the rain while you scroll past pictures of some bleach blonde Californian teenagers getting barrelled in somewhere Mexico actually makes me feel pretty shit. Why am I not in Mexico? Why is the forecast onshore and small for the next week at my local beach?

It’s easy to paint society as being obsessed with instagram, everyone chasing likes without a grasp on reality. But are we as surfers any different? Are we still the hippies? The counterculture? Are we worse?

And then I realise we are starting a brand where our main way of operating is through Instagram. We recently posted a photo of our friend Hugo “pulling in” to a beautiful looking wave on the west coast. You would think he got the wave of his life. But he didn’t, he slid down the wave on his face, and it was a closeout.

All we see are the highlights.

I don’t really know where I am going with this. I’m not gonna surf like Dane Reynolds and I am not going to Bali anytime soon. But a few weeks ago I surfed my local beach with a few friendly faces, on average but very fun waves, under a beautiful red sky. It was fucking great. I wish I had a photo, but I'm also glad I don’t. It’s burnt into my memory. My surfing probably didn’t look as good as I thought it did anyway.