Upper Playground

The weekly Upper Playground contest starts tomorrow on Twitter and only on Twitter. Start following us here and at 1PM PST tomorrow we’ll announce how to win.

Patrick Martinez made a nice little window display for our FIFTY24LA location, peep it:

The Citrus Report has a great Interview with Amar Stewart who runs the Upper Playground London location. Check it out:

Amar Stewart runs the Upper Playground London operation, so when you wander yourself of Regent Street, or Oxford Street, there is a hidden gem on Carnaby that has the Walrus on it. That is a real Upper Playground store. Since David Choe and Saber went over a few years back to christen the joint, Upper Playground London has served as the homebase of Upper Playground in Europe, and just a classy joint in general.

And there is always that problem when you go to the UK that you know they having amazing fish n’ chips, but you can never find THAT one where all the locals go to and is the best place in town. Amar helps with that, too. Think of him as a travel agent that you will never actually ask a travel question to. —RB / The Citrus Report

TCR: Before Upper Playground London opened, what did you see as an opportunity for a West Coast based brand to make an impact in the UK?

I think it was the fact that the label has so much more to offer than other brands. Upper Playground never came across as a clothing line to me, but more of a “lifestyle.” I know this word gets used a lot, but in most cases it doesn’t get used correctly. Anybody can come up with a brand, get t-shirts printed and sell them. What’s missing is the substance. UP has the gallery, the clothing, the music affiliation, footwear and the home wares. The list is never ending. This is why the audience we are reaching out to is so mixed.

READ THE REST OF THE INTERVIEW HERE

Sirron Norris, Mars, Nome, and some other artists I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Sirron Norris Mural

We cross into Arizona shortly after completely losing power-steering, and decide to point it to Phoenix where we’ll have better prospects of finding some out dated parts, and a mechanic willing to do the work on short notice. Big Mike gets to take a well deserved rest in a sleepy neighborhood, while we sort out our plans for getting things together for the following day.  We meet up with an old friend, Cody Young(cousin to Steve Young, and a decendant from ‘ol Brother Brigham).  He’s working as an over the road trucker, drummer, handyman, and skinny creep.  We’re able to catch him in Phoenix as he’s passing through, hoping to pick up a load in the morning.  We set out on foot, since Mike is not making good turns without causing serious back injury.  Even though we think it’s a good idea, Cody declines cruising town in an 18-wheeler.  Another forgettable meal passes, and we settle in for drinks and total domination of the juke box at a neighborhood biker bar.  Many beers, and countless laughs later we retire to our sleeping bags, while Cody climbs into the sleeper cab.  Morning arrives too early and after several phone calls we locate our parts, and make our way across town. An hour later we’re back on the highway, power steering intact.  We make a stop in Tucson for what becomes the first of many outstanding meals, courtesy of the book Road Food - Part 3   Gus Balon’s is an old-timey cafe, located on the forgotten side of town.  We shrug off the funny looks from people no less than 20 years our elder, and take part in the long tradition of their famous breakfast sandwich(hint: order exactly what the book tells you to).  The rest of Arizona passes by without incident, and we cross into New Mexico.  Night rolls in, and we take up digs at Rock Hound State Park for the evening.  The next morning, we roll into Las Cruces for some incredible breakfast burritos at Nellie’s The only way to have ‘em is with the green and red chile sauces combined(known as Christmas style), and we’re bursting at the seams as we approach Juarez, and El Paso.  We decide to make a stop in El Paso, in search of saddle blankets and huarache sandals.  We are nearly convinced by some locals to cross over into Mexico on foot, but I quickly remind Jeremy that we don’t want to be added to the death toll from the border wars that have been raging in recent years.  We score some amazing rugs, colorful sarapes, and a juarongo drape/large cowboy hat combo in the interest of blending in with the locals.  What follows(besides a border check-point)is the dullest 36 hours of the trip thus far.  There is almost literally nothing in west Texas, with the exception of an occasional gas stop, and uncleared road kill for the counting.  We take in some chicken-fried steaks, skate a ditch, and yearn for the lights of civilization.  Outside Sonora, we decide to take a detour onto a country two lane that will take us directly across to Austin, rather than dipping down to San Antonio.  This turns out to be a wise choice as there is an instant greening and general change of scenery as the hills now roll by.  We stop off in historic Fredericksburg, and take in the scene.  This is where Admiral Nimitz was born, and home of the National Museum Of The Pacific War.  We stick to the outdoor memorials and displays, before moving downtown to check out the tourist shops, and boutiques geared to the traveling affluent. We manage to pass on some more goofy hats, and matching leather fanny packs(Jeremy still regrets this decision).  We continue to make track through hill country, finally arriving in Austin to Michael Sieben’s home.  It’s a Wednesday, and our bowling night back home so we get a few frames in walking distance from Michael’s house.  Now it’s back to work, producing a poster with the nice folks at The Decoder Ring Design Concern Saturday, 3/13 will be the Austin opening at OK Mountain Gallery and also make sure to check out our amazing host, Michael Sieben’s work as well .

-James “Jimi” Changa

Morning sees us thumbing through a stack of seventies skateboarding magazines, followed by a planning meeting of sorts with gang affiliates over a strange lunch and then we’re off for the Mojave Desert with visions of exploring Joshua Tree and hopefully making camp there. LA, and it’s tentacle-like freeways quickly have us in a firm grip as the hours click by while the miles we were hoping to cover evaporate before our eyes. It’s well past dark once we pick up the I-10, making speed now toward Palm Springs. We decide to detour to the upper part of the park, and take the road toward 29 Palms. Another strange meal comes and goes and we make our way inside the park, where we set up camp at Jumbo Rocks. It’s a full moon and we seize on the amount of light to scramble around on the wind worn rocks surrounding the site. As the coyotes begin howling from nearby, Jeremy comments that it might be a good idea to head back to camp. I reassure him that he could take one down with his bare hands if it came to that but we still opt for the safety of our campfire in the end. Dawn comes and there is more rock scrambling to be had before hopping back in the van to make our way out of the park, and onto the interstate. Our soundtrack for the last 12 hours has been some fully cranked Led Zep, upon the realization that they made a point of visiting this very place for inspiration several times in the 70’s while on tour. We theorize that Big Mike is generally happy and running better, based on our tunes as we motor on…

MORE TO COME TOMORROW

As you know, Jeremy Fish is on tour right now.  James “Jimi” Changa is chronicling their adventures on the road.  Here is the first segment of said chronicles:

Jeremy Fish is on an epic quest through America’s southwest and mountain states in a highly customized 1976 Dodge B200 Tradesman Van(aka “Big Mike” after it’s original owner). In the era of the hybrid sensible car, and “green” technology; we are running a nearly smog exempt, two-barrel fed V-8 example of the finest in 70’s American auto making. With full knowledge we are taking part in a dying tradition, he decided to give a nod to Clark Griswold and take the long way across.

San Francisco is in the rear-view, as we make our way down the 101 to the 152 just inside of Gilroy, CA. 50 miles in, we make our first food stop and it’s unanimous that we must eat BBQ in preparation of what will be our staple in Texas less than a week from now. Further down road we pick up the I-5 south for several hours until the amber glow of LA looms in the distance. Our next stop is the blue collar town of San Pedro, California for a planning meeting with delegates from the local SPB (the world renowned silly pink bunny gang) Chapter.  ‘Pedro as the locals call it sits next to Long Beach and it’s large well lit shipping terminals. As we exit the freeway, Jeremy remarks “This looks like something out of Battlestar Galactica” . Good sleep is in short supply as our host’s foolish neighbor has armed his car alarm(who really does this anymore?), and it chirps half the night away as the rain hammers down.

WILL JEREMY MAKE IT OUT OF SAN PEDRO??  WILL THERE BE MORE BBQ OR WILL JAMES GO INTO CARDIAC ARREST BEFORE THEY MAKE IT TO AUSTIN??? CHECK BACK IN TOMORROW TO FIND OUT…