We did eventually find him wandering the parking lot with a broken deck for a sign, scrawled with the words “Welcome to America, Chioma’s mom!

” Of course, he had us both wrapped around his little finger by the time we got home, laughing our asses off. Thirteen years and several boyfriends later, and I still have a soft spot for that skater boy thing, and I’m clearly not the only woman working in fashion who does: Phoebe Philo made slip-on skate shoes a staple part of her sophisticated Céline wardrobe, Jayne Min was a skateboard apparel designer before she was a street style star, and I’ve literally lost count of the number of times the Thrasher tee—holy grail of skater style—has been appropriated by models off duty.

The comments were almost better than the article itself. unless she lives close to a skatespot/bar and/or has an amazing rack…. throw on a pair of big glasses and you’ve got my heart.

But no one could have predicted the apocalypse that was created when some asshole put a piece of plywood on top of four of those Flinstonian contraptions. There’s at least seven of them who skate together by day, and do car bombs together by night.

All of a sudden, every greasy-haired, pizza-faced outcast was getting attention from the hottest girl in school. This means either more for you, or some fun to share with your friends.

If I’m totally honest, the pro skater thing wasn’t always a plus; as cool as his novelty socks were, the stench of them after a long day of skating was enough to wake the dead, and his idea of date night was sneaking into an abandoned building with takeout burgers from White Castle and a six-pack of beer.

Reliability was also not his strong suit; though he promised to pick up my mother from the airport on her first trip to the States, he was nowhere to be found when her plane touched down at JFK.

While going through some photos of 2008-2009ish debauchery with a friend, we reminisced about this unintentionally brilliant article. Should there be an update of this masterpiece, it would inevitably be Brooklyn-based, as 95% of skateboarders unwilling to live inside a Chinatown shoebox have been priced out of Manhattan.

It lit up da scene and internet alike in 2009, long before going #viral held the weight it does today. This was before Dylan Reider became an international sex symbol, way before people could meticulously curate their #personalbrands via Tumblr and Instagram, and before #trending skater guyz had media outlets like Alex Olson’s talk show to publicly discuss an existence between the scene and the board.

Everyone has a different response to it, but I fear it’s the latter. Whatever it is, quite simply, whatever they’re good at “on the streets” isn’t helping them out in the bedroom. This question is perhaps the most perplexing of them all: Why do we still let these over grown boys into our lives knowing everything we know about them?

I’m scared I’m taking home the ugliest guy in the bar just because he’s got his board underneath him. Honestly, why is it that every girl is reading Skateboarding for Dummies just so they can keep up a conversation because these boys don’t have shit-else to talk about. Don’t get me wrong, I’m ok to go home alone because of my lack of this clearly important knowledge.

Finally I’d met a guy who got my rough-and-tumble tomboy looks—the oversize coveralls, the vintage bowling shirts, the retro Adidas tracksuits—a guy who didn’t subscribe to the notion of sexy as some trussed-up, spandexed idea.

And though he wasn’t exactly wooing me with red roses and trays of chocolates every night, his romantic gestures had a certain stylish flair: He’d leave scraps of paper scribbled with sweet nothings in my dresser, and would graffiti my agenda with graphic I-Luv-Us.

With a skateboard in hand, you better believe you were gonna be in the closet for Seven Minutes of Heaven. I can’t be sure, but either way, they have it, and they are definitely getting blown because of it. And of course, they are all repping “no homo” as they only speak in indecipherable slang, so you just have to be convinced that their male bonding is nothing but the good kind. They dress well, and no matter how much they pretend not to care, they know it too. Every girl gets butterflies when Cher shows Ty the skater crew in her introduction to Bronson Alcott high.