Nike Designer Alexandra Hackett Interview

Here’s a quick interview with Alexandra Hackett aka Miniswoosh, which I wrote for Hype DC’s Sneakertellers campaign.

Before crafting fits worn by Playboi Carti, Billie Eilish and Frank Ocean, Alexandra Hackett cut her teeth working at Hype DC. The lifelong sneakerhead forged her radical style of fashion alchemy using retail experience, an eye for branding and devotion to innovative sportswear. She currently runs studio ALCH as well as her buzzing Instagram @miniswoosh from London. 

Alexandra reincarnates materials into slick garments with sustainability at the core. Her most experimental designs live with her personal brand Mini Swoosh. If the fabrics have been used in one way, you can guarantee she’s thought of another, more stylish purpose. 

From deadstock to deluxe – Alexandra has upcycled windscreen covers, bubble wrap, Ikea bags, NASA space foil, Airpods and Nike Dri-Fit socks. Her recrafted bucket hats, vests and utility-wear lace celebrities, fashion models and savvy consumers alike.

Full article here.

Giannis Antetokounmpo - The 228 Million Dollar Underdog

Wrote this copy as part of Nike’s Zoom Freak 2 campaign for Complex. It didn’t quite see the light of day due to some internal stuff. Here’s the unpublished article in full…

Underdog. Not the first word associated with the guy who just signed the highest contract in NBA history. However, for most of his life, Giannis was just that - overlooked and undervalued. Jimmy Ness shares the Greek Freak’s unlikely backstory from skipping meals to signing shoe deals.  

A six-foot eleven titan who dunks like Shaq with the handles of a point guard? Life is unfair. When you see the Greek gargoyle stack 52 points or bend steel in the face of a seasoned defender, it’s like witnessing the next stage of human evolution. 

Joining MJ and Hakeem Olajuwon, Giannis is one of three players crowned MVP and defender of the year in a single season. At 26, he hasn’t reached his final form, yet he’s grasping the rungs of greatness. Earlier this year, the NBA titan overtook Wilt Chamberlain for the best efficiency stats in history. PER for the nerds. 

Escaping poverty as an undocumented migrant to become the first Greek All-Star, Giannis overcame mythical odds. Before the fame, the Antetokounmpos were outsiders. In the early 1990s, they were just another Nigerian family in unforgiving Athens.  

Giannis spent his childhood hucking counterfeit handbags to help his mother keep the lights on. The family of six lived in a two-bedroom apartment. They shared clothing, encountered racism and had limited healthcare. Sepolia, their downtrodden suburb, even defined them as displaced - its name translates to "outside the city."

Like Africans and Greeks alike; soccer is the Antetokounmpo's first love. Giannis' oldest brother pursued a career in Lagos and his father was a former striker. Basketball wasn't in their worldview. But, somehow, it came to them. 

In a storybook moment, farsighted scout Spiros Velliniatis spotted a juvenile Giannis playing tag. Spiros was recruiting for club Filathlitikos. He was initially hunting for Giannis' older bro Thanasis, who already had a reputation for athleticism. 

Spiros was instead struck by the sight of Giannis. The unsculpted potential of the kid with the hulking frame and oversized hands drew the attention of the former NBA hopeful. Even while playing tag, Giannis’ prowess shone as he dodged back and forth, running laps around other kids.  

Greek club Tritonas spent two years trying to recruit Antetokounmpo, but he wasn't interested. When your family needs rent money, basketball is a distraction. He only signed up after Spiros found both his parents higher-paying jobs. 

Number 34 didn't take up hoops until he was thirteen. At the same age that KD was playing semi-pro tournaments, Antetokounmpo couldn't dribble or do a lay-up. 

Coach Takis Zivas was foundational in his development. His role can't be overstated. Takis spent every minute training Giannis and Thanasis.  

In a mostly white, working-class team, the Antetokounmpos were a bizarre addition. They'd borrow clothes, rely on free meals and sleep in the gym so they didn’t get attacked by far right militants on the way home. Takis didn't care about complaints from other players and their parents. He favoured unpolished potential over who paid their bills on time. 

Takis allowed Giannis to develop instinctually. The emerging titan wasn’t constrained to a big man role for the sake of an easy fit. Basketball IQ came above chasing buckets. Takis moulded Antetokounmpo in every skill-set and position – the bedrock that separates him today. 

It took another two years for Giannis to take himself seriously. He quit over a dozen times. Sharing one pair of shoes with Thanasis and with pressures at home, the odds were stacked. But there was something special in Giannis’ DNA. 

At 15, he finally saw the vision. Giannis trained compulsively, performing chin-ups in the tiny stadium until midnight. Kickstarted by his emerging physicality, the Greek Freak emerged. In his late teens, he competed mostly against adults. 

Coach Takis, in halting English, struggles to isolate a standout performance. 

"It's difficult to choose one example. One game I remember is one of his first with the men's squad. It was a game versus Aris, a team from the division one league. He was 17 years old at the time and playing like a professional player with full maturity and confidence."  

Three years after entering the gym, Giannis was becoming one of the nation's most anticipated players. Although he and Thanasis were still kids, the hype-train had departed. Their names were feverishly tossed around local forums where fanatics debated which European powerhouse would nab them.

NBA Scouts flew miles to watch Giannis play in his tiny home stadium. Almost every franchise travelled to see the dark horse in a second-tier league. 

"Giannis once reminded me of a conversation that we had, which I didn't remember. He was anxious about a scout, and what would happen next [in his career.] I told him that there was no reason to be anxious as there is no chance that he will not play in the NBA," says Takis.

Just days after his 18th birthday, the Greek Freak inked a deal with Spanish club Zaragoza. The contract included an NBA buy-out which the Bucks pounced on six months later. In his first season, Giannis had the most blocks of any rookie. Within five years, he went from a knobbly kneed teen to a basketball Kratos, an unheard-of transition. 

Last month, he signed a five-year extension with the Bucks that will net him the largest contract in N.B.A. history. Takis took his own lesson from the experience. 

"I learnt that any kid or athlete who combines his talent and gifted physical skills with hard work and the passion for winning is capable of being the MVP of the NBA," the typically stoic coach admits.

The Antetokounmpo story also spotlights the formerly anonymous Afro-Greek community. The most famous Greek isn't your typical middle-class, Orthodox Catholic any longer. He’s a one-time undocumented migrant, playing with the passion of the overlooked. 

A mural of Giannis is painted across his childhood court where he was first spotted playing tag. Coach Zivas and Spiros continue to bolster the opportunities of minority talent in Sepolia.  

In 700 B.C, Greek poet Hesiod wrote a saga named “Theogony.” The 1000 page epic described the birth of all ancient gods from Athena Nike to Zeus. This is Giannis’ very own Theogony. From social exile to basketball icon, his backstory is as unlikely as it gets.  

Hardcore —Don Morris, The Artist Behind Slam and XXL Magazine

Don Morris’ art converged basketball and hip-hop into a cultural lightning bolt. While working for Slam, XXL and Honey, Morris tattooed his rebellious vision on iconic covers, logos and photos. The Don and I nerd out over 90s New York, Slam’s underdog spirit, DMX and Stephon Marbury.

The Slam cover is a holy artifact. Iverson with the afro, Showbiz and KD, 1996’s Rookie class, these images are tattooed in memory. Slam is the people’s choice for good reason; it represents basketball’s soul. The athlete glaring off the glossy page conveys all of the game’s passion and fury.

Don Morris is the innovator behind Slam’s visual uppercut. As the publication’s creative director, and co-founder of rap digest XXL, Don’s style defined “urban” publishing. His abrasive template of aggressive imagery and bold, masculine font still resonates today.

While growing up in Plymouth, Massachusetts, Don didn’t fit the norm. He was into art and music. Don shunned traditional sports in favour of skateboarding. As a teenager, he stuck to extremes; anarchy, fistfights and loud guitars.

“For me, I hate team sports. I never liked them and where I grew up, I used to get in a lot of fights. And I would fight a lot of team sports individuals, right? That just wasn’t my place,” he asserts.

“I will say that once I got involved in the basketball community, there are cool people everywhere. I mean, people grow up and they act normal. I’m just not a sports person and I don’t care like that. I care about art, I care about design.”

Basketball never entered Don’s teenage bedroom. His walls were plastered with skate stickers and punk merch. Morris’ design introduction was the Cro-Mags’ H-bomb explosion or the militaristic Dead Kennedys logo.

“I went to art school in Massachusetts, while I was heavily involved in the hardcore scene. So the typography of the flyers or the albums; it all resonated with me. I saw a lot of similarities in hip-hop with the punk rock world. At the time, everybody was sharing rehearsal spaces. So you go into these rehearsal facilities and there would be all types of people and everybody was mingling. And you know, hip-hop and punk rock was counterculture. Before hip-hop got adopted and made pop culture — it used to be its own form of punk rock.”

Don says Massachusetts was “incredibly violent” in the 80s. The self-proclaimed skate-rat says crack-era New York felt safer than home. He’d been frequenting the Big Apple since stealing his dad’s car to see hardcore gigs.

“I came to New York in like, 91-ish, somewhere in the beginning of the 90s. I caught the tail end of New York’s greatness. To this day, nothing has come close to replicating that. When The Tunnel, Club USA and The Limelight was all poppin, all run by [famous “club king”] Paul Gatien, it was so much fun. I’ve never seen anything like that since.”

This was the New York of Illmatic. Rucker Park wasn’t yet a tourist attraction. The Gotham City of Mobb Deep lyrics. Graffiti marking every subway. Boosters stealing Ralph Lauren and tourists being mugged in Times Square. The era where Stephon Marbury, Biggie and God Shammgod hung out 30 deep in The Tunnel.

After studying fine art in Boston, Morris worked as an assistant at Art & Auction magazine. Tibor Kalman — ‘the bad boy of graphic design’ was redesigning the monthly periodical at the time. Kalman’s provocative attitude resonated with Don. He took this experience to Harris Publications, just as they were launching Slam.

“I didn’t even have a desk at the company. I think I sat by the freight elevator on the floor, ” he recalls.

Morris knew Slam needed a revamp. Until then, hoops magazines promoted tradition and PR-friendly professionality. They were very white and very suburban. That didn’t resonate with basketball’s growing multicultural audience, their stories of inner-city struggle and the connection to music.

“Hip-hop was a response to violence. It was ‘we’re not going to fight, we’re going to battle with verse, with pen.’ I thought that was fucking amazing. Like, I just thought it was genius. It was something really special and I just wanted to be involved. And then, when I got involved with Slam, I saw so much similarity in the character of the players with the characters in hip-hop, like they are similar manifestations of that same energy.”

Don banished the cheesy fonts, the boring photos and the newspaper headlines. He wasn’t trying to be Sports Illustrated or ESPN. Slam didn’t have the legacy. Morris stomped on tradition and became their creative director in the process. He was just 25.

The new Slam was brazen, it was unapologetic. An exclamation mark in physical form. They used neon colours like a girlie magazine and the headlines read like rap lyrics. Players screamed at you off the page. What better way for a magazine to get your attention than John Stark posterizing the reader or MJ exorcising his inner demon.

“I think I’m just an aggressive person by nature, so I saw the aggression in basketball, and that translated a lot visually. I also saw, it’s like Fight Club, there’s a lot of posturing that goes on in team sports. So I related that to the music scene, I related that to hip-hop, I related that to punk rock, it all seemed one thing to me.”

Morris pauses to credit the wider team. The design and voice of a magazine is far larger than a one-man undertaking. Don was lucky enough to work with a passion-fueled squad of “geeks.” From the editorial department to the photographers they shot with, the team’s unity and underdog spirit propelled Slam’s new vision.

The mag’s attitude also aligned with an emerging star breaking tradition on-court; Allen Iverson. Philly’s son encapsulated Slam’s spirit; the young bull charging through convention with hood pass intact. Iverson was the first cover star to wear jewellery. His Soul On Ice shoot also pre-empted the throwback jersey trend.

Don says Slam and AI connected “simply because he’s real.”

“Quite often, in society, when people make it to a certain level, they’re expected to behave a certain way, right? That’s the law. But that’s just not right, it’s bullshit. When you go to a street ball game, it’s like a battle, it’s a hip-hop battle. There’s no difference. It’s the same energy and the same characters with a different expression. And you can’t miss it. And who would want to suppress that in the first place? It’s so dope, his expression of energy.”

Morris crafted Slam’s logo to further convey their tenacity. “That font is called Harlem. I go off intuition, and intuitively, it felt perfect for the brand. The stars, I got from military-inspired fighter planes. I think stars denote quality and strength.”

He later conceived XXL’s heavyweight red logo and further into his career, became editor of The Source. While basketball and hip-hop seem integrated at this point, the old guard resented the genre. The traditional hoopers felt rap’s influence removed the “civility” from basketball. Players weren’t meant to dress like rappers, have tattoos or wear jewellery. It was undignified.

Morris interrupts our conversation because he’s so passionate about the subject.

“Yo man, I can’t even tell you, my life, even to now, has been fighting with those people. When I got into the magazine world, I was immediately like, ‘all these people are all old and they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.’ And I think I’ve had discussions in the past where certain brands didn’t survive certain periods. One of the key things that was involved was people didn’t recognise hip-hop for what it was. It was more than what it appeared to be and is still more than it appears to be to this day. I look at hip-hop as a spirit that’s moving through society and culture. And if you didn’t respect that, you weren’t gonna survive. So we were constantly fighting for that.”

Years later, Slam continues to revisit Don’s designs. They remade the 96 rookie Class in 2014. Kevin Garnett’s 100% Real Juice pictorial was reshot with Karl Anthony-Towns two years later. Slam also paid tribute to Iverson’s cover with Joel Embiid in 2017.

Since leaving the commercial world, Morris works in philanthropy and has several documentaries he aims to someday complete.

You can find Don’s portfolio here.

— -

Bonus: Tales of hanging out with Stephon Marbury, Ghostface Killah and DMX in full unedited glory.

In 1997, Don and other members of Slam had the idea to fill a gap in the music magazine marketplace by introducing a new rap oriented title. At age 28, he co-founded XXL Magazine.

“I was in bookstores all the time, I lived in bookstores, flipping books. Like I tell people, even the name XXL is from a Bruce Mau architecture book. I think it was called S, M, L, XL and I thought ‘oh it’s perfect’ because the Beastie Boys had X-Large clothing too. It was just perfect. And then that [XXL logo] font is called Garage Gothic, which is actually taken from parking garage tickets, which to me was just super street. And then the red logo, it’s from Life magazine. I was looking for magazine archetypes that resonated and that one couldn’t have been stronger.”

On coming up with the slogan “hip-hop on a higher level” and the general feel of the magazine.

“I wanted to make it more valuable, treat it differently. For instance, The New York Times and The New York times logo, there’s a sophistication that comes from that. People just see it as an authority. So like I was trying to take hip-hop and give it a more authoritative visual, a stronger visual, in my own mind.”

On shooting Stephon Marbury in his hometown.

“Coney Island is a unique place, especially off-hours, and especially back in the 90s.

I had got there really early, and met this guy named Damien that lived in the building, who knew Marbury. [Marbury] was still down with the neighborhood. He’s just a nice person. Like he was a good person, you know what I mean? There are people, I don’t know if you’ve experienced this, but you meet these people and they can act all kinds of ways.

Stephon was great. We hung out so long. We had a blast. He was just really nice, respectful, and patient. Even this guy, Damien, that I met. Damien ended up working for me at XXL. But Marbury was looking out for that guy so he helps me out during the shoot. And you know, anybody that looks out for me, I look out for them. So he ended up working for me for years. He was a kid from the projects. So I got him into the [XXL] system, and he was there longer than I was.”

On hanging out with Ghostface.

I’ve had people bring me back to their homes. I’ve had people’s parent’s cook for me. Ghostface Killah took us home to his mom. I have a picture somewhere, it was right after 911, cause I have a picture of him reading the newspaper. She made fried chicken.

He was trying to bring people together and educate people. So he literally wanted us to see how he lived and I remember him calling his man aside and saying something to him like “we got to make sure that people know.” He was communicating with us so that we better understood how [all types of] people exist. He’s really fuckin smart. “

On waiting eight days for DMX.

We had this beautiful studio in Miami, like one of the most beautiful studios I’ve ever been in. It was just this beautiful, big, building. I had been waiting for him and hunting him for days.

He would say he was going to be somewhere then he didn’t show up. It just didn’t work out. And finally, we’re going to be in the studio. He was doing another shoot at the same time that he was shooting with us. So I’m looking through this crack in the wall and I see DMX show up with this super hot woman.

I was like ‘holy shit, like good for him. Woah, that’s so special.’ So, he showed up with something really special. Then a fucking truck pulls up and they pick a lion out of the truck, right? And I swear to you with no hesitation, and this girl is basically wearing a bikini, she just literally, as soon as she saw the lion, she walked over to the lion, got on the lion and started riding it around the studio. Like, you know, it was like ‘she’s so fucking bad, it’s crazy yo!’ And the lion trainer got so freaked out. He’s putting down on everyone. He took the lion and he left. I forget what happened afterwards, but then DMX left as well and we didn’t get to do the shoot and I had to continue hunting him. And when I say hunting, it’s me following him around, waiting for somebody to tell me he’s going to be somewhere and that he’s committed to do something, and then it would fall through. We finally ended up playing pool together and I got shots of him while we were shooting pool, and it actually worked out well.

Championship Diamonds Part 2 - Jason of Beverly Hills

The second part of my interview with NBA and celebrity jeweller Jason of BH. In this part, we discussed meeting Michael Jackson and making him custom pendants, Drake's basketball league and Steph Curry dropping his Championship ring. Fun fact: Both of Jason's children's names are Jason.

Jewellery is weighed by carat – it’s also weighted by memory. Take LaMelo’s new chain. Basketball’s most anticipated rookie celebrated draft day with a diamond “number one” necklace. For better or worse, Melo’s purchase is embedded with expectation. The item will represent failed potential or a showy pitstop on the path to glory. 

A lifelong hoops fan, Jason relishes these moments. He’s been commemorating player milestones for two decades. In 2016, the NBA asked him to surprise the late Kobe Bryant for his retirement. Jason crafted a set of rings lavish enough to impress someone worth $600 million. 

The dazzling gift, also given to Vanessa, is set with five large diamonds – one for each championship. It holds an additional 20 rocks for every year in the league. Both sides contain Kobe’s jersey numbers and key career dates. The ring also contains snakeskin in tribute to his Black Mamba alias.

“It was amazing for me to have the opportunity to do that,” Jason reflects. “And it’s funny because I saw for the first time the video of him getting the ring just two days ago. I guess there is a video that exists out there on YouTube or somewhere that shows him opening the box, getting the ring and seeing his reaction. That was really cool.”  

Yes, the footage exists. Kobe seems genuinely taken by the gift. He gasps, and barely sits down before standing to tear the box open. Bryant recites “wow” several times as Lakers owner Jeanie Buss looks on, close to tears.

Keep reading here.

Humanity on Wheels - Photographing Melbourne's Skateboarding Community

Skateboarding is a potpourri of personality; a mosaic of flavours and styles. Its capacity for individuality fuels my current project.

Last year, I bought a skateboard on a whim. I'm not sure if I was reliving my childhood or restoring serotonin lost during Covid-19. Regardless, it was a wise decision.

While honing my hobby, I encountered every subculture, every wing of society. Goths, gangstas, punks, nerds, rockers and drag-queens all sped past my rookie manoeuvres. These people look different. Their wardrobe is specific and their boards are too. Of course, there's the skater in Dickies and a five-panel cap. But a spectrum of style rolls alongside tradition.

Whether trench-coated or miniskirted, skaters also ride uniquely. Old-school dudes do hand-plants at Brunswick Bowl. The street stylist masters flip tricks at Riverslide Park. The adrenaline junkie launches from ramps in secret locations. The punks thrash through crusty DIY backyards in Preston.

On first glance, these people have little in common. They like different music, come from different backgrounds and inhibit different neighbourhoods. Yet they're often firm friends.

Most skaters take this for granted. I too was aware of different styles. But I didn't realize the extent of individuality that skating encompassed.

Upping your trick arsenal and planning the next obstacle creates a mutual connection. Total strangers share anecdotes and strategies. Everyone is stoked to be on the hamster wheel of self-improvement. Yes, there are dicks and lowlifes. But there are dicks at the post office too.

As a 33-year-old I found myself connecting with 19-year-olds. Skating evened our differences - all because of this joint endeavour. Initially, I rode self-consciously, expecting judgement or intimidation. My 2001 skate memories mostly include running home from fights. Things seemed to have changed, at least in my experience.

I've met so many interesting humans it feels a bit like travelling. People have told me of mental breakdowns, Kabbalah lessons and small-town upbringings. I now seek out these conversations as a bonus every time I ride.

This experience had inspired my latest work - a series of photos, personal tales and quotes you can find here.

This project will continue grinding throughout 2021. I'm looking forward to more shooting and more stories. All alongside my personal human gumbo - happily stirred together by skateboarding.