Nevaskimp is One of One

July 20, 2022

Our comprehension of skateboarding and skate culture is shrouded in a "do what you want, when you want" attitude. But many who have made mainstream careers out of the sport lose that spirit of authenticity — the unique rawness that has long since been a revered aspect of skating. On the contrary, there are a select few, such as Brandon Scott James, or Nevaskimp, for whom it takes little effort to stay true to themselves. While authenticity may be a brand for others, Nevaskimp's personality, perception, and talent are one of a kind. His style — so to speak — hits differently, and one must be careful when comparing him to just anyone else. Brandon James is one of one.

The moment this skater enters the room — well, experience it for yourself. Nevaskimp’s following has only grown from posts of risky skating tricks, teasers for his brand, Olyympian, sleek modeling campaigns, and most importantly— his love for where he’s come from. He’s never shied away from his origin and uses his backstory to propel himself forward to all of the dreams he’s well-deserving. Born out of Jamaica and raised in the Bronx, he’s an all-star with talent across the board.

Interview by JoliAmour DuBose-Morris
Photography by Morgan Charlton
Styling by Dylan Andrews
Photography Assisting by Christopher Francois, Dave Baez
Styling Assisting by Kaia Carioli
Production Assisting by Colin Nguyen

Sweatshirt KUON, shirt OVERCOAT, coat ADRIENNE LANDAU, necklace L. JARDIM.

In an interview, James and I got to unpack like two distant cousins at a family barbecue. An undeniable gift of James is his ability to bring you out of your comfort zone. I wasn't prepared to talk shop while he was in the middle of cooking pancakes. This conversation was organic as it traveled across a file of topics. And for those that may believe skating is just a set of wheels, a deck, and some bearings— you're wrong. Nevaskimp will show you that.

When did you begin skating? And what does it mean to you?

So I started skating when I was about 13, turning 14. Before skating, I played basketball for most of my life. Like, when I first moved here from Jamaica, I moved straight to the Bronx. And then it was either I was gonna be on my block like or learn how to do something that I liked. I chose basketball. So I played 'ball for a little while, and then when I got to high school, things began to change. While my mom was very overly protective, as my high school was downtown. So, it was a lot when I wasn't in class as I was dealing with a lot. It was either old protective mom, or just me not being able to go outside because I wasn't old enough. I'll tell my mom like, "let me go downtown," and she would not let me go. My friend persuaded me to sneak downtown and one day, I just went. My best friend was the one who introduced me to skating, and in Jamaica I used to ride those BMX dirt bikes, so it was easy to go into skating. It was like the start of a whole new legacy coming downtown. I got into a park, I ended up meeting one of my one of like, the people that I looked up to for a very long time, and his name was Andre Beverley. I met him, made friends with him and from there, I just started going to the skate park over and over again. When you enjoy doing stuff, you're gonna put time and effort into it. You know, I mean, when you put time and effort into something, it pays off because people see the work that you do.

When did you know that skating would turn into like something you could do professionally?

Probably when I came back from college, I stopped skating for almost 11 months when I wanted to stay to college. I was gonna go get my Associates in auto mechanics. An auto mechanics is a vocation, and my father— He's the immigrant from Jamaica. He wanted me to get a job that was gonna have me currently in work and always in work so I wouldn't have to worry about stressing myself out, making ends meet. So, I was in school, and l was doing okay, but I wasn't happy. I was depressed, as I was away from all my friends for mad long. In Syracuse— that shit was not it. It was snowing every two days. When I came back from school, I made a promise to myself as I did what my mom wanted me to do so now, I'm gonna do what I want to do. I want to try to see how far I can go with that. So I was 17 or 18, and after I finished, I came back home. I'm gonna just fully escape and I'm gonna really focus on skating and making clothes because that's what I wanted to do. And I just did that for the next three years, man, faithfully. I went out every day, I was breaking myself off, I was scared like— yeah, hurt me. You hurt yourself on a daily basis. You sign up for this when you learn how to skate. And I started getting good at skating. From there, I had so much fun and I was getting some connections out of it. People invited me to places, and I'm starting to meet people I never met before. I'm getting offered like, photo shoots and that created a window to modeling. Skating honestly opened the doors for a lot of things for me.

So, that would be the same process that like helped you transition into the modeling world.

I got into the modeling world after designing a two piece set for my friend's daughter. He sent me the sewing machine and tools all the way from Belgium and I just— imagine a set of baby trousers and a baby bubble jacket. He was so happy with the finished product and asked if I wanted to take some photos. I didn't even know what modeling was like, that was not my forte. I was pretty self conscious. And I was camera shy. You know? I mean, don't get me wrong. I could be in front of a crowd, but it was just having a camera lens pointed at me. That just wasn't my ideal. Like, that wasn't what I was into. So, he invited me to my first photo shoot, and I did something for a men's fashion book that went well. People were asking me like, "yo, like, what agency? Are you? Are you fine?" I believe it's solely from me being with the right people and representing yourself the right way. Plus, speaking up when you're supposed to. Closed mouths don't get fed. I'm gonna say this to all the young, upcoming skaters that are trying to get in the industry or want to make the name somewhere. If you don't speak up, nobody's gonna hear you.

Jacket, pants, and hat LOUIS VUITTON, necklaces L. JARDIM, ring BERNARD JAMES, shoes DC.

Your background is from both Jamaica and the Bronx. How do you think you'll impact the skating world? Plus, with what you've already done, how does it differ from other skaters?

Jamaica is a very beautiful but corrupt place. Skate culture isn't really accepted. It's not even really popular right now. We just got a Skateboard Federation. So, it's like people just skate for the country now. If you're like good enough, or if you're accepted, and you get inducted into the US or the Jamaica skate team. I already have one of my peers already doing it, his name is Lucien Clarke. He was one of the first skateboarders to get a shoe with Louis Vuitton. He set the bar so high for himself. We kinda can't go further than what we've already done because what he's done is what people said that nobody could do and now, he's done that. Now he's on to bigger and better.

I think it's important to have different people from different backgrounds because I mean, on a mainstream level, a lot of skaters that are promoted are white. So that needs to be ruptured a little.

Tell me about it. Say it again for the people. They need to include a lot more melanated skin in the industry. Especially, in terms of what the ideal golden child looks like. Like, so many kids that I know have way more credibility, way more swag, way more style to them but have just been shunned you know? Just because they'd rather take a chance on a clouded up white kid. Nobody wants to say it but I will.

Definitely.

And it's the truth. It's alright to say the truth in life, because I didn't even think I would get an opportunity like this and now I'm doing it. So imagine if I could keep my mouth shut. I need to make sure that everybody who can relate to me or that can look up to me can support me, if they don't already.

Shirt and pants OVERCOAT, coat ADRIENNE LANDAU, shoes DC.

It wasn't something I planned on asking but the pandemic, one of the biggest moments where they showed love to black and brown skaters. Do you feel companies have continued to show support or has it declined since then?

I feel like it was almost a publicity stunt because it happened during the pandemic. And then it was Black lives this and Black lives that. It's back to normal almost. It's like hard to speak on it because I don't really know and I'm not, I'm not fully in the industry. I can only give my opinion on it, you know what I mean? But yeah, I do feel like that. It made a drastic change where it was promoted on television amongst everybody. And then after the pandemic finished, now everybody's back outside. Nobody has anything to sit in the house and think about.

It's as if we took the physical masks off, but there's still a mental and psychological one.

The pandemic literally shifted the whole world's demographic in terms of how they view everything. And it took a series of sicknesses and deaths for everybody to realize that people need to work with each other as a collective.

Skating is 80% mental, 10% physical, and 10% physics.

That's a good segway. When it comes to your own brand, what do you want to do with Olyympian?

Olyympian is a skater street brand, as it's not high-end fashion. It's gonna be affordable for sure. But I would potentially move into a designer brand. If I want to indulge in more and more textiles and design aside then I'll do that but I want it to be affordable design. You are paying for the name, but you're also paying for the love. You're not paying for it because you see everybody else has it and those who might be doing better than you. It's mainly on how much swag you got. If you don't got no swag, don't put my clothes on as there's people with no swag putting on such expensive clothes, and still looking stupid.

Have there been any scary moments for tricks that you were trying to get down?

So to approach a trick that you've never tried before, you got to bring yourself enough mental and physical confidence to try the trick one time, only one time. The first time you ever try the trick will be the scariest time compared to any other time. It's scary because you haven't tried it yet. You're nervous, your nervous system is on edge. Your body is uncomfortable. You're forcing yourself to try something new. So, you gotta bring yourself enough confidence. If you get hurt on that first try you might not ever try that trick again. But if you really want that trick, and your mental intuition is telling you, "I need this trick and I will do this trick." You're not going to stop until you do that trick regardless on what the repercussions are. Whether you get hurt, whether you break your arm, whether you scratch your body up when you break a board— that's just what comes with skateboarding. That's why I said it's all mental.

Jacket, sweatshirt, pants and shirt BALENCIAGA, bracelet L. JARDIM, rings BERNARD JAMES, shoes DC.

That's good for people to know, because a lot of people, may back out a bit just because of the fear of consequences.

Yeah. People don't attempt it because they're scared of failure, and they don't want to fall. They don't like how it feels to fail or fail hard for the first time. Everybody who's met me— they appreciate my work ethic. I had to develop this work ethic. Like, I wasn't born with it, you got to develop it. I've done a number of things where I've had to trial and error myself until I felt that I was where I wanted to be and I'm still not where I want to be. You literally just have to say what you want and do what you want until it's in front of you.

How do you avoid compromising your own authenticity?

Don't ever let somebody try to mold you into how you know you look. There's been a number of situations where I've dealt with and, people would want me to act a certain way or follow this code. If you can't be yourself when you're by yourself, how are you going to be yourself in front of a million people?

Culture

Mowalola x Miss Sixty Launch with H. Lorenzo

I swing my legs over the ropes that guard the VIP entrance. Always over (I’m 5’10), never under. I’m late to the H. Lorenzo x Mowalola event, and the line is wrapped around the block. I don’t want to be an asshole, but I hate waiting in lines; it just ruins everything.

“Hey, my friend is DJing right now. My name should be down,” I say.

The youngish security guard looks me up and down. I have made an adventurous choice for this type of crowd. Neon pink hoodie, bright orange vest, my Raimundo jeans, and Jeremy Scott animal print sneakers. I let him take me in and look over his shoulder. Hmmm… I will be swathed in darkness when he lets me in. Dark night, dark clothes, dark makeup, furs, hoods, leather accessories, and sunglasses. I don’t recognize anyone, but it’s hard to tell who anyone is because I can’t see after 8 pm without my glasses. Night blindness. I can still catch a vibe though.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Mr. Guard says, interrupting my squinting.

“Who?,” I ask.

“The woman in charge of the list.”

That’s a drag. I want to dance. Lately, I am going out in the name of music.

“So…can I go in?” I ask.

“Just wait for her to get back.”

That sounded fine. I wait. The outdoor smoking area is packed. I imagine the inside to be a mirror of this, hopefully with people dancing instead of blowing smoke in each other’s eyes.

“You got instagram?” The guard asks me after about ten minutes of flirting.

“Can I go in?” I said.

He laughs. He lets me in the event without a wristband.

Inside, I understand why the other guard was gone for so long. I made a mental note to not drink too much liquid, the bathroom line is almost as long as the line outside. The party is popping, far from a flop.

I push through the crowd solo, following the speakers to the DJ booth. The immersive visuals provided me with enough light to make out Mowalola in a gold bikini and her low rise denim. My pulse races like the horse printed on the front of her coochie. That’s the point of the collection, obviously.

My hips swing around before I head towards the open bar. I smile to myself, noting that it’s a mezcal forward menu. I see a drink that disgusts me so I order it without hesitation. It’s a mezcal coffee concoction. My heart ’s ran through already, why not go all in? I head back to dance when I hear Shigecki’s set start. I’m jumping around, sweating, and when I pause for a beat I let out a yelp. There are strippers working poles opposite and behind the DJ booth. Good. Events should be sexy.

I end the night smoking my friend’s Korean strawberry cigarettes taking in the air of cool- when a man comes up to me wild-eyed exclaiming that we look just like one another. I look at him- no, not at all. I turn slowly, remembering what I should be doing: listening to DJ G2G’s set. Back inside, she is playing reggaeton type beats with lasers beaming out of her headphones (I want these). A rave in it of herself.

Too bad all the events end at 2 am in LA.

Culture

Vans Pipe Masters 2024

On the first night, Steve Van Doren and the Vans team hosted the heat draw for the competitors at a casual backyard barbecue. The son of Vans’ co-founder Paul Van Doren, Steve has worked in the family business for decades, and is now known as the Ambassador of Fun. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat made out of old shoes, he was definitely dressed for the part. The surfers, along with family and friends gathered in a relaxed setting as 40 men’s and 20 women’s names were drawn from a shoebox. The competition would run in 3 rounds, the top 4 men and 4 women with the highest scores moving onto the finals. When asked about their strategies, most gave answers along the lines of “get waves.” Refreshingly simple.

After waiting a few days for favorable conditions, the first day of competition kicked off with Women’s Round 1. It was finally time to see Pipeline in action. Banzai Pipeline is known as one of the most dangerous places to surf due to the powerful waves breaking over shallow and sharp reefs. With the potential to crash into the rocky edges or have leashes caught in caves, it takes a ton of skill–-and even more courage–to surf here. No stranger to these risks, the first heat included favorites Caity Simmers and “Queen of Pipeline” Moana Jones Wong, who showed off exactly why they’d been successful here in the past. Midway through the heats, Mother Nature decided to throw in another element as a light drizzle turned into a proper downpour. Rain or shine, the athletes went out unfazed, focused on getting their first points on the board.

After another short day’s break, the competition continued with the women’s second round and the men’s first. The beach was filled with spectators, locals and tourists alike, as the competition was free for all to attend. While fans rooted equally for the women and men, the most popular were the local Hawaiian athletes, which made up about half the competition. The women started off the day again, hyping up the crowd with incredible rides. One ride by Bettylou Sakura Johnson earned the first Bag of Cash of the day– a cash prize (of undisclosed amount) awarded in a brown paper bag to any surfer that pulls off a wow moment, excites the crowd, and pulls off something spectacular regardless of what the conditions might look like.

Winds picked up as the men’s competition began and two strategies quickly emerged: an aggressive approach, targeting any decent waves to build small scores; and a patient approach, waiting for the perfect wave to chase a high single score. Even the waves that were unrideable were a spectacle in itself. The sheer size, illustrated by the length of surfboards riding up and over, and the following crash of white water spray was hypnotizing. Then imagining having to experience it out on the water, duck diving under or being lifted over, brought a renewed respect for the surfers.

After watching these early rounds, it was time for office to head back to the cold. With the competition officially spanning from December 8-20, it seemed the forecast was gearing up for some massive waves— and it didn’t disappoint. Following from afar through Vans’ Instagram and live updates, we saw the full extent of what it means to surf at Pipeline. After a series of electrifying and daring surfs, the 2024 winners were crowned: Erin Brooks and Nathan Florence.

The thrill of watching top athletes compete at the highest level of their sport, even remotely, never fails to inspire. Few sports surrender so completely to the forces of nature as surfing does. And at its core, surfing is all about having a deep respect for the ocean—its unpredictable whims, its immense power, and its ever-changing moods.

Culture

The Cost of Queendom

December 17, 2024

One summer afternoon in New York, a few days after their New York premiere of the acclaimed documentary Queendom, office met up with documentary filmmaker Agniia Galdanova and producer Igor Myakotin at a tattoo parlor on the west side of Manhattan. While Agniia received a tattoo of the portmanteau “DOCU CUNT” across her fists, she — unfazed by the needle on her knuckles — answered our questions alongside Igor about the making of the stirring story that has traveled around the world.

One of the opening scenes of Queendom depicts a ritual many of us are all too familiar with in the 21st century. Jenna Marvin, the documentary film’s central subject, takes her friend along with her to take photos for Instagram. When she finds a suitable backdrop, she poses, poses, poses, and then reviews the photos. Dissatisfied, she gives her notes, and then returns to pose, pose, pose again.

By Brook Aster
Photos by Liv Solomon

The ritual may be familiar, but nothing else about the scene — from its setting to its stakes — is ordinary. The backdrop behind Jenna is a sweeping expanse of ice and snow in a small Russian port town called Magadan. Jenna is dressed in drag, but not drag of the Rupaul’s Drag Race variety; her drag has been referred to as “creature drag.” Her signature white face paint, platform heels and surrealist costumes, with their exaggerated sculptural proportions and use of duct tape and repurposed items, catches the ire of her neighbors and the love of online admirers alike. Jenna eventually accrued a following on social media for her public and technically illegal drag performances, which often involved little more than her walking or being in public spaces but nevertheless were often met with abuse and threats of imprisonment.

But when Agniia first encountered Jenna, she hadn’t yet reached the level of virality that would eventually come in the years to follow. The filmmaker was researching different drag performers in Russia for her sophomore project, which she thought would be a docuseries, when she heard from a friend about a young drag queen from Magadan. “I was like, this is impossible. I have to meet this person,” Agniia remembers. “And I could not actually go meet her because I was in Moscow and she was in Saint Petersburg, so I sent a friend of mine with whom I’d been studying with in film school, and she went and filmed the sample.” The simple video, showing Jenna and her friend getting dressed up for a party, struck something in Agniia. The drag was an earlier, more prototypical version of the style Jenna is now known for; less duct tape and ornamentation, but still that signature striking makeup. “Something sparked. I knew I just had to stick to this feeling,” Agniia says. She decided to turn the docuseries into a documentary solely focused on Jenna.

Around that time, the entire world came to a grinding halt: the onset of COVID-19 pandemic had just led to lockdowns around the globe. With only a couple thousand followers on social media at that point in time, Jenna had tried to branch out and connect with other drag artists in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, but faced rejection; her drag was extremely unconventional, and not even other drag artists quite understood it. “I think we found each other at the right moment, because nobody knew what to do, how to cope with all this,” Agniia says. “Jenna was saying that she was lost, and she also didn't know how to develop her art next.”

Unlike some of the other artists Agniia had initially researched, Jenna didn’t need much convincing to allow the camera into her life. “[Especially] after COVID came, there wasn't really [any] drag in my life,” Jenna recounts when I speak to her later over Zoom. “I realized that what drag is for me is not just a costume, a dress, something that you leave, that you take off and then in the dead of the night you put back on. Later, I understood that this is who I am, that I am art and I am drag, and that this is way bigger and more important than just clothing or costume.”

[LEFT TO RIGHT: Agniia Galdanova, Jenna Marvin, Igor Myakotin]

When it came time to move into production stages, Agniia sent a clip to Igor, who had been referred to her by a past colleague. When Igor saw the footage, he was similarly struck by Jenna — and even more struck to find out she shared his small hometown of Magadan. “It was just so fateful to know that I also come from this town, and I've never seen it through this cinematic lens, through the vision that Agniia has,” he says. “I was mesmerized by the footage, mesmerized by Jenna. I thought to myself, I have to do everything I can [for us] to work together, whatever the collaboration is gonna be.”

The two followed Jenna for over three years; Agniia first relocated to St. Petersburg, where Jenna had taken up residence after leaving her grandparents’ home in Magadan, and later Jenna moved in with Agniia in her home in Moscow. All the while, Igor and his team worked remotely from the United States to meet Agniia’s production needs. Inevitably, with all their time spent together, Agniia and Jenna became close.

“There is an unspoken rule in documentary filmmaking that you have to keep this line, and you can’t overcome certain boundaries,” Agniia explains. “In my first film, it was not an easy subject [to do this with] as well. I was following a family for seven months, and [we became] close, but I always was trying to keep my distance, and was constantly thinking about it. How much should I say? How much should I give?” But as she got to know Jenna, it became clear that this time, that distance wouldn’t be possible. “With Jenna almost from the very beginning, I was like, fuck it. That’s not going to work with this one. I'm going to break this rule 100%. I never regretted it, because that's actually what built up the trust that is there.”

As Jenna's public performances continued and began to garner more public attention, her online audience multiplied. Among her virtual admirers was French fashion maven Michèle Lamy, who would eventually sign onto Queendom as an executive producer. Lamy's discovery of Jenna led to an invitation to walk in the Rick Owens show in Paris — her first time modeling, and her first time leaving Russia in her life. Of course, Agniia and her camera followed. But most of their excursions were not so glamorous; many of Jenna's performances shown in the documentary were undertaken at a real risk to her physical safety, and by extension, to the safety of Agniia. But neither of them were daunted.

I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.

After all, Jenna was used to both taking risks and documenting them well before she was the subject of a film; she and her friends long filmed the often impassioned, sometimes violent reactions of strangers and policemen to their mere existence in public spaces in drag. And after a protest performance in which she wrapped herself in the Russian flag, Jenna was kicked out of beauty school, her last attempt at a practical route before pursuing her drag as a full time venture.

The only time Agniia tried to dissuade her was on Paratrooper’s Day, a Russian military holiday often characterized by the drunk soldiers roaming the streets. The risk for violence was especially high. “On Paratroopers Day, people say you can't come out in skinny jeans or with nail polish,” Jenna describes. “[I think] you should do the opposite. You should really make a statement and come out wearing what you want to wear. I think that clothes, what we wear, is really at some point beyond our psyche, our mind, our understanding. It is as if it's a certain kind of spice that is enticing you and you follow the scent of that spice and you don't see anything else except that scent and you follow it. That's how I see it.”

“I was like, ‘girl, maybe we should not do that,’” Agniia says. “Igor was stressing out and she told us, ‘well, you don't need to follow me. I'm gonna go and do it. I don't care if you're coming or not.’” In the end, Jenna ventured out for her performance anyway, protesting the then-recent invasion of Ukraine. Agniia followed. Not shown in the film is that the two were arrested, and managed to talk the police out of their arrest.

Not too long after, she would have to leave Russia again, this time moving for Paris for good; the film follows her struggles to get a visa in time to leave the country after the onset of the war. “It's already been three years that I've been in France, and it is important for me to understand and remember who I am, and to remember that pain, those moments when we were back in Russia doing drag, fighting with the police and law enforcement,” Jenna says. “It is important that this resistance continues and that those voices are not being silenced. Yes, here there’s much more freedom, there are pride parades and queer people can get married, but this is an illusion because there are also places where you cannot get married and you cannot enjoy the same freedoms. I cling to who I am, who I was from the very beginning. I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.”

“Meeting Jenna gave me hope for the future of the country, because governments come and go, people in power come and go, but the generations change at the same time,” Igor says. “So it warms my heart to see that someone like her came from somewhere like that. If I saw her back then at a similar age, it would be even more personal. I think I would’ve accepted myself as gay quicker, and I wouldn't be nervous or closed and not open to the world or myself… Working with this project also meant that we were amplifying the voices of many, many people who couldn't speak like Jenna could.”

For Agniia, the honor of telling Jenna's story is only paralleled by the honor of having her in her life. “We found each other,” Agniia says. “And what I learned from Jenna is so precious; about life, about art, about surviving. And I appreciate it a lot. This film grew so much larger than just a documentary, because I have a family now, a working family.”

Queendom is now available to stream on Apple TV.