On Friday, for the first time in 40 years, skaters returned to Paradiso. Pop Trading Company installed a half-pipe in the center of the main hall, inviting partygoers to bring their own board.
From the crowd, hypnotized by the rhythmic back and forth of boards coming sometimes inches from our faces, we watched the skaters against the looming backdrop of the venue’s iconic stained glass windows. The crowd erupted in turn into sympathetic hisses during particularly gnarly wipeouts and thunderous applause whenever a skater approximated a trick (the tricks were few and far between). Privately, I was rooting for a blonde girl in low-slung bedazzled denim.
Radiating out from the ramp’s epicenter, the crowd splintered and reformed. Girls pressed against the DJ booth for Froujke and S10’s – both wearing matching POP STAR shirts – joint set, exhilarated teenagers starting impromptu moshes, and millennial skaters and indie kids alike swayed to live sets.
Outside, rain-soaked smokers on the steps looked perfectly disheveled, sporting smudged eyeliner and windswept hair. A very 2010s party nostalgia, complete with boards, backwards caps, and oversized graphic tees.
Making my way to the basement, I found Narco Polo and his entourage sprawled on the couches. One of them called out a compliment to my jeans, to which I had to admit, “they’re Bershka.” I asked Narco Polo what skateboard trick he would be: “An ollie. Because I need to jump.”
My boyfriend asked me if I wished he were a skater. My friend couldn’t decide if she wanted to be a skater or date one. That kind of night.
Words by Anna Kiknadze
Photos by Fabian Swartz
