GNARLEANS
In the shadow of One Shell Square, the guys assemble. They carve the sidewalks and asphalt in arcing loops. They grind the curbs and shit-talk, sharing words of encouragement, jumping over whatever: a bit of trash, a stray skateboard, even each other.
This spot is a quick walk from the edge of the French Quarter, New Orleans’ most iconic neighbourhood. The Quarter was the original French (then Spanish, then French again) city from which the rest of this town formed. It’s filled with elegant Spanish Caribbean townhouses, brick courtyards shaded by palm trees, as well as wrought iron that spreads like dark spider webs across open-air balconies.
One Shell, the tallest structure in New Orleans, feels like a modernist middle finger pointed at the historical homes a few blocks away. For most Louisianans, this building symbolises corporate power. But for the guys skating in its shadow, One Shell is just another gathering spot for the usual Friday night freestyle.
There are maybe a dozen skaters gathered tonight. Troy Lacabe, 21, hangs out despite not having a board. These are his best friends, he says, his homies. There’s nowhere else he wants to be. One of them rolls a blunt with a Backwoods wrapper while someone else talks about skating at Parasite, a skatepark built from the grassroots up by local advocacy groups.
“Fuck a park,” says Troy. “It’s all about the streets.” When asked why, he replies: “I just like the
