Long before we had smartphones, paint sponsorships and social media, writers lived a much simpler life. We had different values and so, we did things for different reasons. Many of us didn’t even take photos of our vandalism because we thought that these moments where going to stay in our heads and in our hearts until we take them with us to our final destination. After many years of drug and alcohol abuse, many of us can barely remember what happened last weekend, let alone some scribbles we put up on a building in 1999. Sure, some bombing sessions were more memorable and got etched on our brains. However, a lot of the graffiti from the pre-internet era is majorly forgotten. Some walls got lucky and we immortalized them with disposable cameras and cheap point-and-shoot joints we stole from our parents. Lots of photos got destroyed and lost over the years but some remain, sitting in a dusty shoe boxes in writers’ closets all over the world.
Today, we highlight a small collection of old flicks passed down to us from OATH BMS. He took the time to document not only his work but also the graffiti that was around during that era, which is highly appreciated. To all the old heads, this is a short trip down memory lane. To all the new kids on the block, this is what it was like when you were still sucking on your thumb…
OATH: Thats us, the original Skippy Crew. Cold, Zero and Pace… This picture pretty much sums up the summer before high school, growing up in Pincourt. If you have never been to Pincourt that’s probably a good thing… It’s a shitty off-island suburb where your parents move to because anyone can afford a house there. After spending the better part of most days asking strangers to buy us beer outside the dépanneur, you could find us under the Pincourt bridge, painting “pieces” and throwing rocks at commuter trains.
Sweet track pants, bro.
If you grew up in Pincourt and you were born in the ’80s… You know who this guy is.
R.I.P. Jenkins. This place was the shit back in the day. I probably spent every weekend there for a good 2 years straight.
During my high school years, I would ride the 211 from Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue and end up at cell block on St-Laurent. The whole trip would take about a hour and a half, all just to get overcharged for a some rusto fat caps by C-Lock. Nine times out of ten, C-Lock would be behind the counter drinking a Heineken and smoking a spliff.
After purchasing our fat caps, sometimes at a dollar a piece depending on C-Locks mood we would get Colt 45s, sit behind the store, drink and hit tags.
Super sex rooftop.. Another great spot to chill out and do some day time drinking.
I used to love seeing those Case throwups downtown.
Neos really stepped the game up by rocking burners where most people had fill ins.
I’m sure everyone knows the location of this trackside spot.
TA, the top wall back in the day… The place looks a little different these days.
Driving into the city with my parents every weekend, I always used to keep my eyes open for ASK. He had all the best highway spots on the 20.
One of the TA factories that got torn down… A lot of nice spots on this rooftop.
COSE! I’m sure everyone remembers his one-liner throwups.
I want to thank OATH for sharing his photos and words with us. Much respect, homie! Without these artifacts, the future of our history would not be the same. Big shout-out to all the mooks who took the time to document our culture in the pre-digital era. If anybody out there wants to do a feature post with their Shoe Box Diaries, just shoot us an email and we will make it happen. SKIDDIT…
(c) MOOK-LIFE – Read entire story here.