TF at 1: Ten Years of Quartersnacks
Powerhouse Books
Trim Size: 7 3/4 x 10 1/4
Page Count: 208
ISBN: 9781576877869
I became aware of Quarter Snacks back in 2007 when I posted a pic of a random spot in NYC I found in the Anti-sit archives. Someone from New York either tipped them off or they were following Skate and Annoy. Remember, this was 2007, before Facebook consumed the Interwebs, and there weren’t a ton of skateboard sites out there, and those that did exist were of the DIY variety, not funded by corporations, except indirectly in cases where skaters on the payroll were updating web sites during down time at their jobs. I checked out the web site, and despite blatant localism, (how local and New York City be?) I found it was a somewhat kindred spirit. They had a directory of spots for Hosoi’s sake. It was NYC but it was written like a zine with a circulation of 20. They occasionally dabbled in the the ancillary skateboarding content mis like the “Annoy” featured here on Skate and Annoy. For a while there they would send in the occasional tip too. If How to Make it in America taught me anything, it’s NYC is the place to make it happen, and it seems like something happened to Quarter Snacks. DGK boards, books, and popularity that I would assume predates collaborations like that.
T.F. at 1: Ten Years of Quartersnacks, is not a history of the web site, but more of a scrapbook. In fact, contributor Isak Buan says it is “…the closest I will ever get to my high school yearbook.” That’s pretty good description. It’s not chock full of reprints from the site, but filled with snippets and inside references to spots and characters that you don’t know, unless you know them. The vast majority of the photographs aren’t action shots, but snapshots of locals and spots. Transcribed texts, the general piecemeal nature of the content gives you the experience of peeking into someone’s past that you vaguely know, as if someone came to visit your friends and left a journal there. It’s printed in alternating sections of pink, yellow, white and blue paper for some reason. At first it can be a little off-putting, but in the end it sort of adds to it’s ephemeral nature, like a zine xeroxed off on whatever colored paper was laying around someone’s workplace. The cover is reminiscent of one of those “I Spy” books aimed at children, but it’s covered in the detritus of the Quarter Snacks world. It’s 208 pages are hardbound and about 7/8 of an inch thick.
If “fascinating” is a bit strong of an adjective to use, T.F. at 1: Ten Years of Quartersnacks can still be entertaining and engaging, in a highly laid back way. If you’re a skate-anthropologist, it’s an endearing record of a skate scene captured in a web site bubble from 2005-2015. Quarter Snacks is still going, and still has an original voice and appearance.
