Trashcore and the Dirt Logic of Skateboarding Style

The suede on the outer toe is split—soft and raw from weeks of friction.

Laces don’t match. One’s knotted where it snapped.

The side panel’s scraped down to white, like the concrete it came from.

They stopped looking clean on day one.
Some people lace up to look fresh.

We lace up to wear them out.

Earned, Not Chosen

You skate. You fall. The shoes get softer. The pants wear thin.
Grip tape takes the suede. Concrete takes the rest.
Every try leaves something behind—
on the fabric, on your stance, on the way you show up.

Eventually, it starts to look like something.
Not on purpose.
But not by accident either.

It’s what happens when the body and the surface keep negotiating.
A look that isn’t chosen, but earned.
A style that builds itself while you’re doing something else entirely.

Nothing’s Curated. It Just Wears In.

It wasn’t a trend.
It was the ground being rough.
It was the trick taking ten tries.
It was each fall leaving something behind.

Nothing’s curated.
It just wears in.

Soft corners, torn collars, duct tape holding on where stitching gave up.
The look comes later—style arrives after impact.
You don’t dress for the fit.
You dress for the fall.

Fashion Took Notes

Dirtycore’s on runways now.
Golden Goose sells scuffed leather at €500 a pair.
Balenciaga mudded their Triple S to look “post-apocalyptic.”
Vetements duct-taped jeans like they came off the back of a crash.
Margiela’s Replica line prints wear like borrowed memory.

The look caught on.
But it didn’t come from them.

Torn hems, loose layers, shoes that look like they’ve seen things—
That was always us.
Not styled.
Survived.

Skateboarding built the language.