Restore the Feeling I Vicente Muñoz & Pro Shop NYC
'The basic elements of tennis are those of everyday existence, because every match is a life in miniature.' This is what Andre Agassi wrote in the pages of his book, Open.
In tennis, every point represents a problem to be solved. An unexpected trajectory, an opponent capable of putting you in difficulty, a match that takes a different turn than imagined. Playing tennis, then, involves reading what unfolds and within a blink, providing a response. Knowing that there is not a single correct solution. It is perhaps for this reason that Vicente Muñoz, just like Agassi, considers tennis one of the most fitting analogies of life itself
A permanent condition of negotiation. You’re down two sets to zero, what are you doing? In the end, what fascinates about great players is the ability to observe a seemingly compromised situation and imagine, once again, a victorious way out. The same attitude seems to run through Pro Shop NYC, the project Vicente carefully built in New York questioning what was lacking in the contemporary tennis scene. A concept store, certainly. Rather a space that served as a creative studio, cultural platform and meeting place. A tennis observatory and laboratory through which discover the lesser-known codes and objects of racquets’ sport.
Vicente, first a player, then a student, and ultimately an archivist, continually tries to expand the perimeter of the court. To understand what cultural, commercial, or simply perceptual barriers continue to define access and imagery, and what tools can help make it more permeable. Returning to the principle expressed by his own analogy. Within every limit there is the possibility of imagining a new solution.
You were a tennis player long before you became a photographer, artist or creative director. How did tennis first enter your life? What are your earliest memories of the game, particularly in relation to Ecuador, your family and the players you looked up to?
“My father played tennis for years, so, subconsciously, the game was present around me before I ever properly understood it. There were photographs of him holding a racket and me at the same time. He loved playing and competing with friends. He eventually arranged lessons for me and my siblings when I was around nine, but at that age I did not really fall in love with it. There was no deeper connection yet. Somebody gave you a racket, you hit a few balls, and then you moved on to whatever else interested you—hanging out with friends, skating, things like that.
It was not until I was fourteen or fifteen that something really changed. Nicolás Lapentti was already inside the Top 100, but then he had this completely unexpected run at the 1999 Australian Open. That moment transformed tennis for my generation in Ecuador. Suddenly, everybody wanted to play. Friends started getting involved, and we began playing together much more seriously and more structured training started. Every generation has its own visual and cultural references. People who grew up earlier might have been watching McEnroe or the later years of Agassi. For me, it was Safin, Moyá, Rios, Hewitt, Roddick. An extraordinary generation of players. And the influence was not only athletic. It was stylistic. We were trying to imitate the way they dressed. All of those details that belonged to that particular moment in tennis. A lot of the aesthetic I pursue today responds to that era.
I had a younger brother who played too and that was useful because we were both learning, and we could compete with one another. I was probably physically stronger, but mentally he was better. He competed very well. That is one of the peculiarities of tennis. You can feel extraordinary during practice, but when you enter a match, your body changes. You tighten up. Everything suddenly becomes more difficult. I experienced that very vividly . For me, though, the path kept moving forward. I took the competition very seriously, then university arrived. I went to Penn State, beat everybody at tryouts and walked on the team. That felt enormous. It was a genuine validation of all the work I had put in. Suddenly I could say: I am playing Division I tennis. Everything felt elite. I was essentially a reserve, but I remained part of it for two years.”
When did tennis stop being simply a game and become something deeper in your life—an artistic and creative territory through which you could explore other themes and cultures?
“Having competed at that tennis level becomes a kind of credential. That allowed me to play at huge clubs, meet good players around the city and gradually build a network through tennis at exactly the same time that I was developing a career in photography and started to be featured as a contributor for different media outlets and magazines connected to tennis. I was travelling, visiting clubs, playing with friends around the world, documenting those spaces and tournaments. Eventually, without really planning it, all of those fragments accumulated into a substantial body of work. Photography became my skill, but more importantly it became the way through which I understood the world. It is an enhanced form of seeing reality. You experience something once, but then you can return to the photograph and study it again. There is always another layer, an act of observation happening. With tennis, that relationship goes back even further.
I remember taking cameras to ATP events as early as 2003. I must have been eighteen. My family was travelling in Europe and I was allowed to go somewhere by myself for the first time. I took a train to Marseille to watch Richard Gasquet because, at the time, he was this extraordinary young player emerging simultaneously with Nadal. I photographed the tournament on an old film camera, and I still have some of those photographs. Later I started taking photography courses and bought my first proper SLR with a long lens at Roland Garros in 2008. I was not credentialed. I was simply looking at clothing, technique, movement. Trying to freeze the action and, in a way, slow the game down by studying it. I have always been a tennis student. The archive has essentially been growing ever since. That is more than twenty years of photographing this world.
When I began pursuing photography professionally, much of my personal work was centred around architecture. And eventually the tennis court became almost a frontier between those interests. A historic club might contain nineteenth-century architecture; another court might interest me because of its lines and proportions. The court is such a familiar space, but when you remove the immediate context, it can also become completely abstract. Those different interests in architecture and sport gradually began collapsing into one another.
I have often said that I see tennis as an analogy for life. What I admire in the greatest players is their ability to find solutions. You are two sets down. What do you do now? How do you solve the problem? That mentality fascinates me. Life itself becomes a constant series of problems to solve. There is always another problem in front of you. I often find parallels with tennis in those situations. Life, as tennis, can be difficult. People underestimate how difficult it is to reach even a competent recreational level. Part of Pro Shop’s ambition is to think about those problems and perhaps help mitigate them—for brands, through consultancy, for other people in the industry, or simply for ourselves. It is about changing the way we imagine what the game is, and what it might become.”
How much has New York—in terms of art, culture, sport and the people you have encountered—shaped your perspective, both creatively and in relation to tennis?
“The energy of New York is very particular because it is a place that can absolutely grind you down and destroy you, but it can also reward you in ways that would be difficult to experience elsewhere. I sometimes think of it like being caught by a wave. You are being thrown, then somehow you reach the surface again, take this enormous breath, and there is something waiting for you there. A surprise. A reward. That is New York. You might spend your morning furious because a cappuccino costs eight dollars, and then later that day you meet somebody who can suddenly facilitate something you have been trying to achieve for years. The city can accelerate your progress in completely unexpected ways.
You pay an enormous price to exist here. But ultimately, I think there is a reward if you remain consistent with what you do. For me, finding that consistency was difficult. It took a long time to reach a point where I genuinely felt proud, focused and confident that I could create whatever I wanted within this world. I needed help getting there. I had reached this point where I needed to understand what I was actually going to do with all the different skills I had accumulated. I have never thought of myself as a corporate person. So the fact that there is now a certain formality and rigor around Pro Shop—the attention, the consultancy work, the partnerships—is interesting and very gratifying for me.
Pro Shop itself is still very young. I want to continue to develop it and expand the possibilities with new partners at the intersection of sport and culture. There is still so much I want to explore. There are many directions it could take. Tennis itself remains a surprisingly fragmented industry. Culturally, there is still a gap. There are very few spaces genuinely curating the sport and connecting it to culture in a thoughtful way. And I find that remarkable because I do not think there are many sports with a cultural history as rich as tennis. That means there is still an enormous amount of possibility. And that is precisely where I see the opportunity.”
Pro Shop occupies an unusual territory somewhere between store, gallery, archive and creative studio. What was the original idea behind it? Did you feel that tennis needed a different kind of space? And how did the process of collecting objects begin?
“There was already a collecting instinct there before Pro Shop existed. It actually began from a place of pure nostalgia. I wanted to collect every racket I had used throughout my life. That was probably the first anchor for the whole project. For years, I simply kept them in a closet. They were always there, almost as a quiet reminder of different moments in my life. But at that stage, there was no real plan. At the same time, I kept feeling that there was nowhere to properly browse interesting tennis products. I was seeing all these brands beginning to make interesting clothes, accessories and objects around tennis, but there was no physical space where you could actually encounter them. And for me, that physical experience matters. As a consumer, I want to touch a garment. I want to understand the fabric, try it on, see how it fits.
The first iteration of Pro Shop was actually much purer and more temporary than what it is becoming now. I curated a selection of brands and people who, in my opinion, were doing genuinely interesting things within tennis, that included names like Spence, Palmes, Reigning Champ and Outside Lines. Since then, in less than two years, the ecosystem has expanded enormously. But the original idea was always broader than selling products. I wanted to create a place where the tennis community actually gathers. Traditional tennis stores were mostly places where you went to string your racket, buy shoes or pick up a T-shirt from whichever major brand. There was no real cultural space around the game.
I started to organise parties, match screenings, and bring people together. The idea was that Pro Shop would contain several dimensions simultaneously. There is the community element. There is fashion. There is the technical side of the sport. Magazines, publications, objects. The space is becoming almost like a library or a gallery. I have accumulated extremely niche and specific material, and people can make an appointment to come and browse it. I want the archive to be accessible. Then the more public-facing side of Pro Shop can happen through partnerships and collaborations. Now, finally, it feels as though all of those different elements are beginning to come together in a form that allows people to understand the full range of what I can do. And I am very happy about that.”
Speaking of heritage, Pro Shop NYC is surrounded by tennis memorabilia: rackets, ball cans, magazines, equipment and objects from different eras. What gives these apparently ordinary sporting objects a deeper value? At what point does an old piece of equipment become a cultural artefact and part of an archive?
“For me, a large part of it is the collectible dimension, but there is also a celebration of design. Every object tells the story of a technological period. Rackets move from wood to aluminium, then graphite, then into increasingly powerful contemporary forms of graphite. Each stage represents a different moment in the history of the sport. So collecting, studying, displaying and preserving these objects becomes a way of tracing a much larger history. And that history is not only about tennis. Objects also reveal culture. Take something as simple as a two-ball can. In Japan, those existed because players traditionally used two balls rather than opening a larger can immediately. You start with two. If you lose one, perhaps you open another can. That tiny design decision begins to tell you something about a broader relationship with objects, consumption, waste and care. Most people would never know that. But I enjoy telling those stories. Vintage tennis graphic design fascinates me. I can buy a twenty-dollar ball can purely because I appreciate the paint, the typography or the way it was manufactured. Then you look at where they were manufactured and another history emerges. Many were once made in the United States, then, during the 1990s, production increasingly moved towards Southeast Asia. Suddenly this seemingly insignificant tennis object is telling you something about globalisation and the history of manufacturing. In that sense, I think of myself as an archivist of sorts.”
Tennis is experiencing an extraordinary cultural moment. Fashion, luxury and lifestyle brands are increasingly drawn to its silhouettes, imagery and historical codes. But there is a fundamental difference between engaging with a culture and simply extracting its aesthetic. Having lived inside the game for most of your life, where do you draw that distinction?
“I think that this distinction is extremely important. In some ways, I see that as part of my role: almost as a fact-checker or a validator of authenticity. There are so many campaigns now where a brand simply places a wooden racket into the image and assumes that this is enough to signify tennis. It is not enough. If you genuinely want to enter the culture, the details have to make sense. You need equipment that corresponds to the story you are trying to tell. If you are referencing a particular era through a collection, the rackets, clothes, gestures and visual language should actually belong to that period. Some brands pay close attention to those things. Others do not. And perhaps a general audience will never notice. But people who actually live inside tennis notice immediately. They recognise laziness. For me, if a major fashion group wants to enter tennis seriously and make a meaningful investment, then there needs to be research behind it. And that takes time.”
Professional tennis has historically projected exclusivity, while much of the tennis culture you participate in in New York is built around public courts, community events and people arriving from completely different backgrounds. What does this new grassroots dimension reveal about where contemporary tennis culture is actually living—and where it might be going?
“I think the phenomenon of the public court is very real. After Covid, participation in tennis increased enormously. And for me, the public courts are where a great deal of the real style of contemporary tennis is emerging. People arriving from completely different cultural worlds bring those references with them. They begin constructing their own visual identity through the game, often mixing contemporary products with vintage tennis. In that sense, the public court becomes almost a runway. Every country develops its own vision. Personally, I still believe much more strongly in organic, face-to-face connection. That was one of the most beautiful things about the Pro Shop pop-ups. I would be stringing rackets, friends would walk in, and I would introduce them and encourage them to set up a tennis match with one another because I knew that they had similar levels. Suddenly tennis becomes a cultural gathering point. That is powerful. The public court has become an extraordinary point of convergence.”
Looking ahead, what cultural role do you think tennis could still take on—one it has not yet fully embraced? And where does Pro Shop fit within that future evolution?
“I think tennis needs to be inserted into more experiences that do not feel prohibitively luxurious or exclusive. I am interested in creating experiences with partners that are genuinely inclusive and perhaps cross-disciplinary. There is something exciting about seeing people move between different sports and communities. How does one discipline touch another? What happens when a running community enters tennis? To me, there is enormous potential there. Pro Shop could certainly help orchestrate that kind of thing. Partners could participate. More broadly, I think our role is to continue educating people around tennis culture. That is our north star.
The reinvention of the club is also interesting to me. How can you connect the traditional idea of a tennis club with grassroots culture? And, more fundamentally, what even is a club? With the right group of people, you can completely rethink what the tennis club represents. Instead of something closed and prohibitively expensive, it can become fluid, accessible and inclusive of other communities. For me, there is something very powerful in that space. That is one of the futures of tennis I would like Pro Shop to help build.”
The Poetics of Instinct | Mark Gonzales
Y-3’s latest collection offers a rare opportunity to enter the creative universe of Mark Gonzales, a cult figure whose influence extends far beyond skateboarding, and to explore the ever-evolving philosophy that has shaped his work across disciplines
You watch Mark Gonzales moving across the monumental staircases of Paris’ Palais d’Iéna and immediately feel the presence of a legend. ‘The Godfather’ says almost everything about the place he occupies within skateboarding’s collective imagination. Since the golden years of 1980s Los Angeles, the Californian has both redefined the possibilities of a skateboard and reshaped the way generations have looked at the urban landscape.
Then he starts riding. Verses begin to unfold beneath his feet. Rhapsodic intuitions. Every concrete surface becomes something to be read. Suddenly, you find yourself at the centre of the creative vision of one of street skateboarding’s defining figures. An artist whose practice has never been confined to a board, but has continuously expanded into illustration and painting, handwritten words, fanzines passed from hand to hand, design and, ultimately, every possible form of personal expression.
It seems only fitting that Gonzales should front adidas Y-3’s Fall/Winter collection. Their relationship stretches back years, shaped by a philosophy they have long shared: one driven by inimitable presence and continual experimentation. Above all, it is a philosophy grounded in instinct and poetry. Time inevitably reshapes one’s perspective, bringing a deeper understanding without ever disturbing the impulse from which everything else grows. That enduring thread is precisely what the collection shaped by Y-3 in collaboration with artist Chito captures: ‘Legacy in motion. Future in flow.’
The best way to understand it is to hear it from Mark Gonzales himself.
At Athleta Mag, we see sport as synonymous with art and culture. Let’s begin with the cultural side of that equation. What does it feel like to know that your influence runs through the entire history of skateboarding: that you’re widely regarded not just as one of its greatest skaters, but as someone who fundamentally changed what skateboarding could be? How do you relate to that legacy?
“There were ones before me like Tony Alva, and even ones before him, but Tony Alva with the way he rode pools and got air: that was rad… That changed things! It’s hard to see myself in that role. My influence historically is connected to a small collective: Natas Kaupas, Tommy Guerrero, Mike Vallely (the lead vocalist of the hardcore punk band Black Flag)… We sort of all propelled each other. Street skating is something that I don’t think any of us knew we were actually consciously doing.”
What do you remember feeling the first time you stepped onto a board? And what about the first time you started drawing? Did skating and art naturally become part of the same language for you from the very start, or did they find each other over time?
“My brother, my Dad and I used to draw Hot Rods. It was Hot Rods, surfing and long hair. Emulating surfing and drawing the Hot Rods that we would want to have was all happening at the same time: dreaming about cruising the boulevard in a nice car… Drawing it was second best!”
Spike Jonze once said that you skate the way you think, that your mind has no limits, and neither does your skateboarding. Have you ever encountered the idea of a limit, on a skateboard or elsewhere?
“There are limits and it can be depressing imagining something, and not being able to complete it: it’s rough.”
You’ve said, “My life is poetic.” What does it mean to live a poetic life?
“Maybe a better quote is “my life was poetic.” Living without plans, doing things on the spur of a moment is poetic; but now these days my days are pretty structured. Which in some ways I feel is better… Logic and poetry do not go together in my opinion.”
Your life has always been driven by personal expression: whether through skateboarding, drawing, painting, writing, or simply the way you move through the world. Within that creative vocabulary, what role have design and clothing played over the years? And where does your relationship with Y-3 fit into that story?
“My expression and art on clothes happened accidentally, by chance. It’s not something calculated: it’s mostly a natural thing that I’m hardly aware of.”
You’re the face of the Y-3 Fall/Winter collection, photographed by Jet Swan in Palais d’Iéna. Photography has also been part of your artistic universe for decades. How did it feel to become the visual embodiment of this collection?
“It’s hard to believe that’s me… And I think Jet Sawn did a great job.”
The broader campaign was shot in Paris’ streets by Reece Leung. As someone who has redefined the relationship between a skateboard and the built environment, what do cities, and Paris in particular, communicate to you? And after a lifetime of street skateboarding, how has your way of exploring cities evolved?
“It’s always new. Being older, now I feel like my time out in the street is limited. I can’t say it has evolved, but maybe it’s sort of just reduced to less adventure. But in Paris, I was skating and shooting on the street with Reece Leung and that was pretty amazing, I hardly knew he was there, in the sense I was able to do my thing without feeling like we were acting to get ‘the shot’. I was having fun, being myself after it was over I was like: that’s it? I wanted to go more.”
You once said, “It’s strange not to have a reason for doing something, but to follow an instinct.” Do you think instinct changes as we move through life, or is there a deeper essence that remains constant beneath it all?
“A reason for doing something sounds very logical and not poetic. But I don’t think instincts change much. Being older, jumping down fifteen flights of stairs, your instincts are going to tell you that is not a good idea. But as a kid, doing it to impress someone or some people, your instincts say do it and you do it. Yes I trust my instincts, they are still there, the same instincts: call it wisdom, call it carelessness, it’s all the same. Instincts are a kind of intuition.”
Of Spirit and Legacy | Evolving the Prancing Horse
The special launch of the PUMA x Scuderia Ferrari HP Monza collection at END.’s flagship unveiled a new aesthetic chapter for the Prancing Horse in the heart of Milan. At the same time, it offered an opportunity to explore Charles Leclerc’s perspective at the intersection of design and motorsport culture, alongside his heartfelt tribute to Michael Schumacher, whose enduring legacy lies at the very core of the collection. Giving voice to this fertile collision of worlds are Prima Jiraruangkiat, PUMA Motorsport Apparel Designer, and Martin Wieczorek, Chief Product Officer at END
“I started driving when I was three years old. Formula One has always been part of my life. At the same time, I’ve always loved fashion, but I had never really thought about what it might mean to bring those two worlds together, or what their meeting might look like. PUMA is doing exactly that, and doing it really well. We can see it in this collection, dedicated to a driver who is incredibly special to the Scuderia: Michael Schumacher. To bring these worlds together in this way is truly meaningful.” In Charles Leclerc’s words, surrounded by a sea of red spilling through END.’s Milan flagship, the ultimate meaning of the new PUMA x Scuderia Ferrari HP Monza collection comes into focus.
A tribute to Michael Schumacher and to the distinctive aesthetic of his first season with the Scuderia, thirty years on, during the week that matters most to the Tifosi. And, at the same time, an implicit affirmation of an increasingly active convergence between the sporting imagination and its boundless possibilities for application and inspiration within contemporary design. From this encounter, amplified by an exclusive partner such as END., comes a sense of completeness. Of a collection that, on the quintessential weekend of the Prancing Horse, allows Ferrari history to inhabit the present, while opening a dialogue between the worlds of motorsport and fashion.
A dialogue articulated by those who have shaped this new aesthetic chapter for the Prancing Horse, and by those who have given it a tangible space in which to unfold: Prima Jiraruangkiat, PUMA Motorsport Apparel Designer, and Martin Wieczorek, Chief Product Officer at END.
Prima Jiraruangkiat – PUMA Motorsport Apparel Designer
The kit is inspired by Schumacher’s enduring impact on the Ferrari imaginary, and beyond, as well as by the 30th anniversary of his first season with Ferrari. Can you tell us in detail how you decided to pay tribute to Schumi in this collection? And what was it like to look back at the imagery and visual language of such an iconic era in motorsport?
Prima Jiraruangkiat: “To capture this moment, we referenced key details from Schumacher’s Ferrari racing era throughout the collection. The jacket is a modern interpretation of his 2006 race suit, incorporating details such as the white epaulette, stitch lines and collar silhouette. The shirt looks back to the 1990s Ferrari pit crew, particularly Schumacher’s 1996 race engineer Ignazio Lunetta and his iconic white engineer shirt. We also introduced more subtle Schumacher signifiers, including the laurel wreath embroidery on the collar, representing his many victories, and the seven stars across the back, referencing both his distinctive helmet designs and his seven World Championship titles. Looking back at this era was incredibly inspiring. The challenge was to capture the authenticity and character of Schumacher’s Ferrari years while translating those references into something contemporary and relevant today.”
Leclerc and Hamilton are the obvious faces of this collection. What role does working with two elite athletes, who are also two highly developed fashion sensibilities capable of recognizing the quality of a collection or a specific design, play for Puma and its design team?
Prima Jiraruangkiat: “It definitely raises the bar for us to create visually striking, high quality products across the range. Charles and Lewis both recognise and appreciate quality, so we take their individual styles and aesthetics into account when designing the drivers’ range. It’s about creating products that feel authentic to Scuderia Ferrari and PUMA, while also feeling relevant to the personalities wearing them.”
As a Puma design team, what kind of spirit and mindset do you bring to the fact that a collection like this can, in every sense, have an impact on contemporary motorsports culture, both in Italy and beyond, as well as on Ferrari’s history? And, from this perspective, what role do collaborations with partners such as END. Clothing play in extending the collection beyond the traditional world of motorsport?
Prima Jiraruangkiat: “We approach a collection like this with a lot of respect for Ferrari’s history, while recognising the role we play in bringing the Tifosi spirit to life. The goal is to create products that feel authentic to motorsport, while translating that spirit into something contemporary and relevant today. It’s about preserving the emotional connection to iconic moments while giving them a new expression for a new generation. Collaborations with partners like END. Clothing are important because they bridge motorsport with fashion and culture. They allow the collection and Ferrari’s heritage to reach audiences beyond traditional Formula 1 fans, while continuing to celebrate the identity and legacy that makes Ferrari so iconic. That connection is important in keeping the Tifosi culture alive and evolving.”
This weekend is the one every Ferrari fan has been waiting for. What emotions run through a design team when you know that your collection is about to come to life at one of the defining moments of Ferrari’s season? And what kind of reaction do you hope — or expect — to see from the Ferrari community and from the wider motorsport and fashion audiences?
Prima Jiraruangkiat: “It is incredibly rewarding and a massive honour to be part of bringing the energy and spirit of Scuderia Ferrari to life this race weekend. It takes a village to bring a collection like this to life, from developing the initial concept, to prototyping every detail, to finding the best way to bring the story to life. Seeing it become part of such an important moment for millions of Ferrari fans feels surreal for us. We hope the collection resonates with the Ferrari community first and foremost, particularly as a tribute to Schumacher and his racing era. Ultimately, we hope we have done that legacy justice, while creating something that can connect with both motorsport and fashion audiences.”
Martin Wieczorek – END. Chief Product Officer
Driver’s Room brought Charles Leclerc into your Milan space. What does the opportunity to welcome athletes of this calibre into your stores represent for END.? And, broadening the perspective, what place does the sporting imagination—its icons, codes and cultural influence—occupy within END.’s vision of contemporary fashion?
Martin Wieczorek: “END. has always existed at the intersection of fashion, music, sport and culture. Sport is increasingly a driver of cultural authority and fashion credibility in the way music has been for decades — and the audiences overlap far more than people assume. So we welcome an athlete like Charles into our space exactly as we would a musician or a cult fashion figure: not as an endorsement, but as a genuine part of the conversation our community is already having. Milan gave us the room to do that properly.”
The special PUMA x Scuderia Ferrari HP Monza collection delves into the history and legacy of one of the most legendary figures in motorsport and beyond: Michael Schumacher. Within END.’s understanding of design and fashion, what role does the cultural dimension of a brand—or of a specific collection such as this one—play in shaping its relevance and meaning?
Martin Wieczorek: “Culture is what separates a product people buy from a product people care about. Our customers want meaning, storytelling and a genuine point of connection — not hype for its own sake. A collection like PUMA x Scuderia Ferrari HP Monza works because it isn’t simply a livery applied to garments; it reaches back into Schumacher’s era and the emotion attached to it. That gives us something to build around. Our role is to be a creative director of those stories rather than a passive distributor of them — the closer a product sits to a genuine passion, the more interesting the experience we can build around it.”
‘Off the Grid’, the panel talk conceived for the occasion, also served as a metaphor for the process through which collections rooted in performance—in this case the paddock and the racetrack—move into everyday life and become part of the lifestyle aesthetic. How is END. experiencing, developing and, perhaps, actively encouraging this cross-pollination between performance and lifestyle at a moment when the exchange between the two has arguably never been so fertile?
Martin Wieczorek: “Sport is now central to fashion storytelling, but we always read performance through a fashion lens and ask what purpose a piece actually serves in a contemporary urban wardrobe. We’re not trying to become a performance destination. Our job is to curate the most relevant and most interesting brands and products, and to make sense of them for how people really dress. It’s also worth saying we tend to look at sport from the spectator’s side rather than the athlete’s — that’s where the codes, the nostalgia and the sense of belonging really live, and it’s a much richer space for a fashion audience.”
This week, your Milan flagship finds itself at the heart of the passion surrounding the Prancing Horse, ahead of everything that will unfold at Monza over the weekend. What sense of responsibility and satisfaction comes with seeing the social and cultural relevance your presence in Milan is acquiring within such a passionate community? More broadly, what does it mean for END. to participate so closely in the events and moments that shape the global sporting landscape?
Martin Wieczorek: “Our Milan flagship sits right in the heart of the city and has become a real destination for fashion and culture — during Monza now, as it was during the Milano-Cortina Winter Olympics earlier this year. Our Nike X2 collaborations are another example: in London and Manchester our stores lived and breathed World Cup energy throughout that event. Being a vehicle for our community to experience these moments isn’t a strategic decision we agonise over — it’s simply who we are, and honestly it’s the part of the job we enjoy most.”
A Spiritual sports journey - Minor Planet NY
Running can cease to be a quantifiable discipline, defined by the accumulation of miles and sweat; and instead become a form of prayer, a secular ritual through which to rebuild one’s life. The story of Jason Levine, founder of Minor Planet NY, allows us to explore the spiritual and meditative dimension of this sport
“I do not give up,
I never give up,
For there is nothing
In this entire world
That is irrevocably unchangeable.”
Sri Chinmoy, Aspiration-Body, Illumination-Soul Part 2
The words of this spiritual guide and athlete, who viewed sports as a fundamental tool for inner growth, highlighting its ability to bring peace and help people overcome their own limits, seem to perfectly embody Jason Levine’s life journey.
A child of 1990s suburban New York, amidst hip-hop, graffiti, skateboarding, reggae, club culture, and fashion, Jason’s life is a colorful existential landscape of highs and lows, excesses, and intuitions. Until the slow and radical decision to change his life. In that spiritual transition, fueled by yoga and running, the practice of sports opened the door to a new form of awareness, culminating in the creation of Minor Planet NY.
In the brand’s vision—and Jason’s—sport promises more than just physical health. Running, yoga, meditation, nutrition, and breathing are not separate; together, they offer a path that leads to awareness of one’s inner world and to finding peace with the external world.
Preserving the aesthetic memory of urban subcultures and infusing it with a new concept of purity and spiritual quest is the tension that holds this New York brand together—an ecosystem that doesn’t separate performance from meditation, elevating sport to a contemporary form of asceticism.
Just a cool kid from the 90s
“I had a very similar upbringing to a lot of people in the running world now.. I was a kid who grew up outside New York City in the nineties. My high school years were from around 1991 to 1994, right in the heart of a very new era. Before cell phones, it was hip-hop, graffiti, skateboarding. The way you carried yourself was almost about not being a good person. It wasn’t cool to be nice, to eat healthy. It was cool to be kind of anarchic, which is still a youthful impulse, and I’m actually very happy to have had that experience at that age. I held on to that way of thinking. I think it was pure in the beginning, and it was who I was, eventually I grew inside of it. I kept partying. I got kicked out of high school. I was not thinking very clearly; I was only reacting to what was in front of me. I had no future plans at all. Some kids go to high school, then they have a plan for college, and then they know they are going to become something like their parents. I didn’t think about any of that. I just wanted to do the next crazy thing with my friends, take LSD, mess around. I was totally lost. But even in the middle of being crazy, I always had moments when I would think about health.
At one point in my life, I discovered reggae music and Rastafarian principles. That is like the original health community, because it was all about things that are natural and come from the earth. So I kind of lived like that. But I was still a white kid from New Jersey hanging out with Rastafarians, so it wasn’t really true in that sense. Still, I was inspired by the way they ate, by the music, and obviously the way they lived. I had all of these influences — hardcore, hip-hop, reggae, all the color and creativity. It was magic. And yet my brain was still kind of haywire.
After that period, when I went to college, things started getting worse. I started doing harder drugs and things like that. But then I came out of it again, and I found kung fu. I studied martial arts for a while. Eventually, I ended up in a school for acupuncture and herbal medicine, which couldn’t have been healthier or more energetic. But I was still very young. I was trying to do something positive, but I kept being pulled back. I wound up practicing acupuncture, but after five years I did not want to do it anymore. It was too much. Dealing with sick people while I was still partying was something I just could not do.”
The fall and the rise through Fashion
“I wanted to explore something else, and I ended up in the fashion world. I had a relationship with the guys who started a company called Rag & Bone, a fashion company here in New York. At that point there were maybe only five people at the company. Now it is more like four hundred. I went there to learn and ended up being there for eleven years. At first, I became the accessories designer for men’s accessories, bags, and small leather goods. Then I eventually became one of the ready-to-wear designers for cut-and-sew. My parents were in the fashion business, so I had grown up around it. They owned a fashion brand here in New York City. They had a showroom in Midtown and a factory in New Jersey where they made all of their own goods. Eventually, all the different things I was into brought me right back to what my parents had been doing. Maybe it felt comfortable to me on a subconscious level.
But being in the fashion world again meant that part of your job was to party, to go to after-parties, to go to fashion shows, do drugs, drink, be out until five in the morning three or four days a week. So I ended up leaving Rag & Bone, that was when I started changing my lifestyle. Finally, at around thirty-six years old, all of that partying had reached a point where I knew I had to make lifestyle changes. It began with one decision. I remember one night out at a club. I was already drunk, and it was four in the morning. It would have just been another drink to get to five in the morning. But I decided to leave. That one decision was the tip of my whole new lifestyle. I realized I had the power to change my direction. That one no turned into another no, and then another no. People started to figure it out. But I didn’t care. I needed to make that decision twenty years earlier, but I hadn’t had the confidence to make those choices in the face of other people. I was just about to have my first kid, and I had reached a pain point. After ten thousand hangovers, I changed my life.”
Meditation and discovering a deeper meaning
“Very soon after that, I stopped going out with people altogether. Everyone would go out to the party, and I would go home and go to bed. I would wake up the next morning and discover a whole new world, feeling like a human being for the first time since I was a teenager. I realized that this was what that inner voice had been telling me the whole time. It was 2016, and that was basically the beginning of my whole new self. I became a different person. From smoking, drinking, and drugs, I went into a vegan, whole-food diet. Before that, I would eat a bodega sandwich every day. I was not doing anything consciously. But now, everything I was doing had a reason. I would eat foods so that I had fiber, so that my digestion was good. Then I would be stronger, more clear. That openness led to other things, and I began to move into the spiritual side of life as well — meditation, and the idea of being quiet instead of being loud. I began sitting with a different kind of person, people who were very open and not trying to be cool.
I had one friend who worked at Rag & Bone with me who was part of the Hare Krishna temple. He was this one person I knew who felt pure: smiling, never angry at people. He had the attitude of a child, and that was very inspiring to me. I had known him for years, and he introduced me. As soon as I entered the temple, everyone was like that. You can ask any question, and no one is going to judge you for not knowing. I discovered this idea of the ‘beginner’s mindset’ — an open mindset. The people I met in those spiritual spaces were all beginner-mindset people, because they had this deep spiritual life where you aren’t supposed to know all the answers. You are allowed not to know the answers. That was something really powerful for me. In so many places, everyone is trying to be cool. Even in a run club, sometimes you feel like you have to look a certain way, or present yourself in a certain way. There instead, you could look however you wanted to look. It didn’t matter. And that feeling was very important to me. When I feel that kind of openness, I feel better.”
Minor Planet NY
“All the things that I have put into the brand have been informed by my own journey. Like everybody’s journey, mine has been winding. It makes a lot of sense in some ways, but there is also a lot of mystery in it. People often ask me how I ended up with Minor Planet and I always have to think deeply about that, because there were many moments when I changed direction toward what this community is really about: what the running community, the yoga community, and this wider world are about. I moved in that direction, but for a long time I wasn’t that guy at all. I was almost a completely different person. At the same time, the person speaking now was always somewhere inside me. The way I look at my journey is that there was always this true nature inside me: the desire to be healthy, to be well rested, to be able to look somebody in the eye with confidence. But that inner voice was quiet for so long, because I simply did what everybody else did. There were so many distractions in my life that I didn’t realize were distractions. I thought that was just how you lived, until I reached a certain point.
I got into yoga and eventually became a teacher. I had left fashion behind completely. I had nothing to do with that world anymore. I thought I was going to become a yoga instructor and go deeply into spiritual life. But at the same time, I had always been an athlete. I was a skateboarder. I played football. The idea of moving my body while also connecting to spirituality felt perfect to me. That has become a big part of what I thought about creating Minor Planet.
What I’m trying to do is create a vision of healthy living, spirituality, wholesomeness, and kindness, while still keeping the subculture intact. It’s about colorful people with colorful pasts, but who are good people and who are trying to act in a good way. I didn’t want to lose the imagery of the subcultures I grew up with, or the music that shaped them. Because if you don’t have the music, the art, the creativity and the characters, people are not going to connect with the healthy lifestyle, and that’s the most important part. Being a good person, being kind to yourself and to other people is really the final goal. The running community, and fitness more broadly, are, for me, vehicles to arrive at that final goal: becoming a good person. That’s where spirituality comes in.”
Spiritual Sports
“I cannot say that I have ever invented one single thing in my life. For me, I always feel like I see someone who inspires me, and then I want to do it. I want to learn more about it. I want to experience it too, if it’s inspiring, if it’s something that lights me up. I felt this momentum of things that I was suddenly receptive to. They had always been there. I just had never recognized them, because I was hungover. I was misaligned. Once I aligned, I started noticing. Other skateboarders who were not drinking, or who were eating vegan. And I wanted to be part of that, because it resonated with me. Then I saw other brands, like District Vision, and I thought that was interesting. They are a sports company, but they also bring meditation into it. And I was already deep into meditation. Just seeing another brand incorporate that made me think that there are other people out there.
Then I found out about this man called Sri Chinmoy, an Indian guru living in New York whose whole congregation is based around sports and meditation as a path toward salvation. He used sport for focus, in the same way yoga is used for focus in order to arrive at meditation. His community organizes a very famous race here in New York called the Sri Chinmoy race. It’s a 3,000-mile race, and it’s entirely about the spiritual aspect. It’s all spiritual people running it. Getting to know him and his books is where I began to develop this concept of ‘Spiritual Sports’.
It’s almost like becoming a new kind of monk, this modern skate monk kind of thing. That became a construct for how I wanted to live my life. And still, to this day, I don’t want to change that. I want to keep building that construct more and more. Everyday life is rough. It’s not always easy. I yell at my kids. I should not eat so much sugar. I’m not perfect. But I have this framework, this path. And now I always come back to that path. With Minor Planet, I have a never-ending well of creativity that comes from that path.”
More than a physical practice
“I think running can be looked at in different ways. The performance aspect of running is appealing to me as well. It’s so simple in the way it allows you to understand progress. Here is your time. This is how much work you put in. You went from here to here. It’s clear, direct. At that point, it doesn’t matter what you look like, or what gender you are. There is no judgment on style. You can choose to look at running only in that way.
But you can also make a conscious choice to see it in a more meditative way. I think both things can happen at the same time. I fall into the performance side all the time. I am always on Strava. But sometimes I have to consciously move into the other aspect of it and do my own personal research: How do I feel when I run? Am I focused? Can I do something more to feel aligned, comfortable, and truthful in what I am doing? Sometimes I’m off, and sometimes I’m on. But at the end of the day, what I really try to put into practice is this. I use it to show up later as a more patient, less reactive person. As someone more able to control his inner world. That, to me, is the most important aspect, because it lasts longer than the run itself. That’s your real health. If you don’t get straight with what is happening inside, you can do all the running in the world and still not be healthy. You can still carry disease, stress, and all of these things if you don’t use the practice to regulate your nervous system and calm down. I fail pretty much every day. I still mess it up. But every time I’m able to make the right decisions because of that practice, it’s a win. That is where I see it as a spiritual practice: a way to transcend who you are and what your surroundings are.”
Keep representing
“As far as where I see myself and Minor Planet fitting in, it’s difficult to define a vision. I kind of take it day by day. I put my head down and try to do the work that feels as aligned as possible. I feel like the aesthetic of my brand reflects that. I’m not young, I just turned fifty, but I feel like I’m comfortable being with anyone. I’m always open to a conversation.
There are a lot of brands now diving into this mindset, where movement and meditation become a core philosophy. I love seeing that. Obviously, everyone’s narrative and storytelling will come from their own personality, or from their own business structure. For Minor Planet, there may be similar core values and beliefs to some of these other brands, but they will be expressed in a different way. I want to represent the things I have experienced, the things I think are cool, interesting, and maybe meaningful to others. I don’t want to make something people have already seen or that doesn’t carry a story. That’s why skate culture, mystical culture, yoga philosophy, graffiti artists — all of these things enter the world of Minor Planet.
When I think about the demographic of people who might buy the clothes, I’m not very strategic about it. I really just moved from inspiration. The aesthetic of the brand still seems to slip back into the era of something loose, flowy, relaxed, but also cool. Now we have this shop on the Lower East Side and it’s kind of funny, because I now occupy this small gallery-like space, with garments just thrown on the wall, in the same place I saw my favorite shops growing up. As Minor Planet grows, it will be interesting to see, through other opportunities, what it starts to look like.”
Comienza Con El Sueño | Willy Chavarria
The special collection born from the collaboration between adidas Originals and Willy Chavarria honors the magical tradition of Mexican football, and its future. At the same time, it elevates the universal power of the game and the dreams it inspires. Willy Chavarria tells us about it in his own words
It begins with a dream. In the neighborhood where we grow up. Among the people we know, or come to know, through the simple, magnetic movement of a ball. In Mexico, one of fútbol’s most emotionally charged homelands, dreaming becomes inseparable from tradition and historical memory, from rituals that feel almost spiritual rather than athletic… from love and possibility.
The dream imagined and transformed into design by Willy Chavarria and adidas Originals for the Federación Mexicana de Fútbol extends far beyond the pitch itself: a football-rooted vision, certainly, but one that reaches into every personal and creative sphere, fashion included. An individual and collective seed capable of opening entirely different paths through life.
From this awareness emerges a collection that, just ahead of the World Cup co-hosted by the Tricolor nation, brings together the Beautiful Game’s purest source of inspiration, the version lived every day on streets and barrio pitches around the world, alongside the future of the sport, embodied by El Tri’s young talents, and the timeless rituals of a game that has become a universal language, like the shared dream-state that settles in before kickoff. Suggestions taking form through objects whose meaning is not merely aesthetic, but deeply cultural, even artistic.
That same dream echoes, not coincidentally, throughout Willy Chavarria’s own story: a visionary creative mind who, through his relationship with the three stripes, found himself reflecting on a journey that led from Huron to the heights of fashion, guided throughout by a North Star that never stopped shining. A dream, after all. Born almost by accident. Cultivated through dedication and human connection until it reached unimaginable heights.
And suddenly, the line between designer and footballer disappears. Between art and fútbol.
‘Comienza Con El Sueño’ is a deeply lyrical title for a collection rooted in an equally lyrical moment of the Beautiful Game. How did you come to isolate pre-match rituals, and their narrative power, as the foundation for the adidas Originals x Federación Mexicana de Fútbol collection? Does this thematic core also stem from your own direct experience with sport?
Willy Chavarria: “I’ve always had an admiration for athletes and those who play. I think of it similar to the way music is made. Each player has a critical contribution that comes naturally and brings all involved into an artistic creation that can never truly be replicated. Nothing truly beautiful is created alone. It takes the passion of human nature and dedication together to achieve greatness.”
Within the language of this collection, ‘El Sueño’ represents both the magnetic tension of a locker-room speech just minutes before kick-off, and a broader metaphor for the sporting dream: something that, from a young age, can shape entire life paths and even identities, while keeping them anchored to their origins. In your own creative and personal journey, what has the idea of ‘Sueño’ represented?
Willy Chavarria: “‘El Sueño’ is a north star. Every dream – regardless of scale – is a goal that becomes a framework and guiding light. Similarly to the campaign, my journey began in my hometown of Huron where there was no adjacency to the fashion industry. My family, friends and neighbors shaped a desire to create that wasn’t even formulated into the concept of a fashion designer at the time.”
As part of the collection’s narrative, you chose to highlight one of the quintessential spaces of Central and South American football culture: the neighbourhood pitches, dedicating to them a video series titled, fittingly, ‘El Barrio’. What did it mean for you to bring attention to places that are so significant not only to Mexican football culture, but to society at large?
Willy Chavarria: “It was important to me to highlight the very place where dreams are born and fostered for the everyday child. Football has seen star athletes from every walk of life because it is a relatively accessible sport compared to others. We know that for the majority of marginalized children, the neighborhood pitch – which can often be the public park or an empty street – is the stage where they nurture these big dreams with the support of their neighbors. The school coaches, the older youths, uncles and aunties who include children in their matches and give tips – all of these people in the community see the light that these dreams bring to children and contribute to keeping it alive.”
If the barrio is where future talents begin to build their dreams, the same can be said for those currently forging their path within Mexico’s youth national teams. Why was it important for you to involve the youth talent of the Selección Nacional de México, in this campaign? What message were you hoping to convey, particularly with the senior World Cup on the horizon this summer?
Willy Chavarria: “These young athletes are the future of the sport and it was an honor to have them embody the concept behind ‘El Sueño’ in the campaign. U20 – U25 players are incredibly impressive and the work they contribute to Mexico’s football legacy is crucial. We wanted to make sure their hard work was recognized and celebrated as they continue to grow and work toward their dreams.”
The collection draws from Mexican aesthetics and some of its most powerful symbols, while also reworking iconic adidas pieces, such as the legendary Predator. How does a creative of your calibre approach the reinterpretation of what are, in effect, cultural heritage objects, filtering them through a personal vision and aesthetic? In that context, how does working with a brand like adidas Originals shape or expand your creative process?
Willy Chavarria: “Mexican symbolism has strength and spirituality. The motifs we worked into the collection are intended to instill a sense of confidence in the wearer through notions of power and protection. adidas is wonderful at bringing cultural vision to life while maintaining its contemporary silhouettes and technical prowess. The collaboration between Willy Chavarria and adidas Originals isn’t just aesthetic, but a powerful fusion of traditions.”
You have already brought some of these elements onto the runway, proposing a natural fusion between football culture and fashion. In your view, what is the current state of the relationship between these two worlds? What does it take to create the kind of organic balance we see in “Comienza Con El Sueño”? And, conversely, what are the risks to avoid?
Willy Chavarria: “Football has always been a stylish sport, regardless of intentionality. The athletes have distinct and unique styles while the coaches always look impeccable and sophisticated. The relationship between football and fashion only grows stronger as the U.S. is catching up to the popularity of this global sport, which we can see as gear like jerseys continue to occupy space in hype culture. Footballers also carry themselves with both grit and elegance, a dichotomy the Willy Chavarria brand has always manifested. The alignment of this ethos created a foundation that made it seamless to conceptualize designs that brought the Mexico national team collection to life.”
To close, at Athleta Mag we see sport as a form of art and culture. In what ways has the sporting imagination, past and present, influenced your work? Where, and how, has sport shaped and continues to shape your creative research?
Willy Chavarria: “An open field on a Sunday afternoon, filling with players who become immediate comrades. I’ve long admired this natural art form that holds a grace and discipline my childhood did not yet have words for. To me, that was already art, already prayer. The ring, the field, the runway – they share the same emotional architecture: the entrance, the uniform, the music, the stillness before start. That’s theater. That’s church. When I design a jersey or a warm-up jacket, I’m thinking about culture, about fighters, about the men of my father’s generation who walked into an arena and demanded to be seen. I’m thinking about how a body, dressed with intention, can claim beauty and grace and power in front of the world. Sport taught me that long before fashion did.”
From the Track to the Street | Inside SJ Todd’s Vision
We explore the intersection of speed, precision, and fashion embodied by the Y-3 – Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 collaboration, through the lens of the creative director behind its campaign and narrative: SJ Todd
Asphalt can give rise to different forms of creativity and personal expression. Those unleashed by today’s fastest Formula 1 machines, for instance. Or those pursued through the progressive craftsmanship of Y-3. Entities that, precisely on the asphalt, have woven, and continue to enrich, an ongoing dialogue between the F1 Circus and fashion: a conversation that has never been as relevant and layered as it is today.
Within this shared and reciprocal exchange of energies, the Y-3 – Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 synergy naturally occupies a leading position. A meeting of excellences, or rather, a convergence, within the design language of a collaboration defined by a vivid chiaroscuro, where contemporary racing and three of its monumental figures – Toto Wolff, Kimi Antonelli and George Russell – bring into dialogue track and street, sporting culture and Japanese mythology, detail and performance.
A union of worlds that we explored through the perspective of the creative director tasked with shaping the visual narrative of this partnership, also a long-standing expert within the very ecosystem Athleta Mag inhabits: that of print publications. SJ Todd.
From the Track to the Street. When you were approached to work on the Y-3 – Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 collaboration, what were your initial thoughts? What did, and what does, the encounter between these two leading entities, from the worlds of design and motorsport respectively, represent to you?
“My initial reaction, aside from trying not to think too much about just how big the collaboration was how inspiring the mentality of the drivers is. There’s a level of focus, consistency, and sheer nerve they sustain over time that feels almost superhuman. Of course, there was also a real sense of gratitude on our side to be collaborating with two such powerhouses, but we tried to channel that energy into the work rather than overthink it. That mindset became a natural starting point for us, shaping the narrative we wanted to build. From there, we explored different ways to translate it into a visual language. Looking at a range of executions and storytelling approaches that could bring a new perspective. At the same time, the precision and craftsmanship from the brand side fed strongly into that narrative. It’s that shared sense of discipline and exactness, coming from two very different worlds, that made the collaboration feel so resonant.”
Toto Wolff, George Russell and Kimi Antonelli are portrayed within a new, compelling, and almost vertiginous intergenerational dimension. What was it like collaborating with such prominent yet distinct personalities? And how much aesthetic or fashion awareness do you find today in athletes and professionals of this calibre?
“There was a real sense of ease working with them, alongside a high level of professionalism. Each person naturally brings a very distinct personality, and I always enjoy working across that kind of dynamic. Those differences don’t complicate the process, they enrich it. They feed directly into the narrative and the outcome, making the work feel more layered and multidimensional, which is something I place real value on creatively. I find it equally inspiring how athletes, musicians, and people operating at that level are able to focus so completely in the moment. There’s so much noise and pressure surrounding them outside of the space we’re capturing, yet they’re able to channel everything into that singular point of performance. It gives me a lot of perspective, and it really makes you appreciate the crossover between the creative process and intent that connects what we each bring into the space. Fashion awareness, it’s always existed. The most multifaceted athletes have always made space for it. What feels different now is how much it’s being championed. Brands like Y-3 are really pushing that forward. Collaborations like this don’t just reflect that shift, they show what’s possible when those worlds really start to overlap and evolve together.”
The Y-3 – Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 capsule features pieces with remarkable iconic potential. Was there a particular piece that stood out to you, or that resonated most strongly through your experienced eye?
“The bomber jacket stood out immediately as soon as I received the collection!”
Your creative direction extends beyond campaigns of this kind, also engaging with a landscape we hold particularly dear: that of magazines. From a cultural standpoint, what added value do you find in navigating and operating within this specific medium? And how does the sporting element fit into your daily exploration, also through the media platforms you lead?
“Working on magazines brings a different kind of fluidity to image and video-making. It feels organic and freeing, especially in the way we collaborate. It creates space for people to work in different ways, and that exchange naturally feeds into other projects and ways of thinking. For me personally, I really value that twice a year there’s a physical body of work that’s distributed worldwide. It allows for a different pace, and gives me the opportunity to work with collaborators I admire and take a lot of inspiration from. We’ve been working with magazines since the studio started, so to continue being asked to art direct them is something I feel incredibly honoured by.”
Finally, a broader reflection on the relationship between Formula 1 and fashion. Having personally experienced, and helped shape, a key chapter in its evolution, how do you envision this relationship developing in the future, also in light of exemplary collaborations such as Y-3 – Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1?
“Admittedly, at the start of the project I had a fairly beginner’s understanding of F1. But with any brief, I see that as an opportunity, to bring a fresh perspective and approach it from a different angle. Y-3 and Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 were instrumental in making that possible, and it was a real pleasure to build that process with them. Having those different viewpoints within the collaboration felt essential. We were in constant conversation to ensure everything developed in a way that felt both relevant and true. More broadly, I have no doubt the relationship between sport and fashion will continue to evolve, and F1 feels like an essential space for that. It’s been great to see George, Kimi, and Toto engaging with the work, alongside the team’s momentum at the start of the championship. It all feels like it’s unfolding in parallel in a really exciting way.”
RESONANCE
A journey into the essence of hiking and its evocative powe
There is a strange comfort in losing your way. It begins with the heavy breath of the falls, where water turns to ice, and the path starts to dissolve underfoot. You move not to arrive, but to belong to the cold. As you reach the frozen lake, the world expands into a vast, silent geometry. Every step is a deliberate dialogue with the frost. Here, the landscape doesn’t just surround you; it hums beneath the surface, a quiet power held in stasis. Then, the horizon disappears. The world turns into a white, silent haze, and the map in your mind fades. You stop looking for a destination and start feeling the moment: the sting of the air, the rhythmic pulse of the hike, the weight of the silence. Two figures, blurred by the storm, guided only by the faint glow of their own light. In this suspension of space and time, the hike is no longer a distance covered, but a state of being. Because in the whiteout, being lost is the only way to be found.
Credits
Creative director and Stylist Chiara De Giorgi
Photographer Riccardo Fabris
Director Lorenzo Mariotti
DOP Andrea Ciotti
Sound designer Federico Tansella
Producer Irene Zaccarini
Make up and Hair Sara Selvestrel
Stylist assistant Camilla Perucchio
Talents Beatrice Gaviraghi and Gregorio Campoccia
A Kinetic Journey | Design for and through ASICS
We visited the Kinetic Playscape, an immersive installation conceived by NUOVA & ASICS to celebrate the new GEL-KINETIC 2.0 during Milan Design Week. On this occasion, we explored the philosophy of ‘Sound Mind, Sound Body’ and its cultural and artistic expressions through the intersecting perspectives of Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz, Global Head of Marketing at ASICS SportStyle, and the duo Enrico Pietra and Rodrigo Caula, partners at NUOVA, the studio behind the installation
A fictional research institute with retro-futuristic undertones. A synthesis of craftsmanship, alongside Japanese minimalism, and Italian design. An experimental convergence of art, understood as both tangible and intangible forms, and physical activity. Above all, a space in which five distinct environments activate, and are, in turn, activated by the senses and by movement.
Unveiled during Milan Design Week, the Kinetic Playscape emerges as a tribute to the GEL-KINETIC 2.0, the latest expression of ASICS’ ongoing and structural dialogue between past and future. The installation takes shape from the sneaker itself, which served as the conceptual starting point for the studio NUOVA (New Understanding of Various Artifacts), giving rise to an interactive scenography that unfolds as a journey: temporal, multisensory, playful, and creative. The result is a brief yet deeply resonant passage between the terrestrial and the transcendent, between action and idea: where each body is invited to rediscover the ultimate meaning of movement: a state of complete human equilibrium, embodied in the philosophy of ‘Sound Mind, Sound Body.’
A balance that is also reflected, metaphorically, in the relationship between product, identity, sporting imagery, and artistic expression that defines ASICS’ contemporary vision: here articulated through the voice of Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz, Global Head of Marketing at ASICS SportStyle, and the architects of the Kinetic Playscape, Enrico Pietra and Rodrigo Caula of NUOVA.
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz | Global Head of Marketing, ASICS SportStyle
At Athleta Mag, we like to begin every interview by exploring each guest’s personal relationship with the world of sport. What has sport represented in your life, and what does it represent today?
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz: “Sport has always been a constant in my life. I’ve been very active since childhood: I was a rugby player, and it was something I naturally grew up with. Over time, I’ve come to see sport as a foundation for balance. It gives structure, and it offers both physical and mental relief. Today, it’s still a priority for me. I need to go for a run two or three times a week, and I value my football matches not only for the exercise but also for the social aspect. More broadly, I truly believe that movement is essential: not just on an individual level, but as a way to positively impact society and communities. That’s a core belief of ASICS as well, and something I personally connect with deeply. It’s also one of the reasons why I feel so aligned with what we do.”
Continuing on a more biographical note, you have held several roles within ASICS, starting as Senior Sales Manager and eventually becoming Global Head of Marketing. Having experienced the company so deeply, what does the philosophy of ‘Sound Mind, Sound Body’ mean to you today?
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz: “Over the years, I’ve seen a significant shift. When I first joined, the broader cultural conversation around sport and well-being wasn’t as prominent as it is today. The industry was largely driven by sneaker releases and hype: something that was never really part of our approach or our mission. Time has allowed us to fully embrace who we are as a brand. ‘Sound Mind, Sound Body’ is about creating products that enable people to move more, and to feel better while doing so. And that physical movement has a direct, positive impact on mental well-being. Internally, this belief is deeply shared. The ASICS team is made up of people who genuinely believe in this philosophy: it’s not just a message, it’s something lived. That’s what makes it so natural for us to engage with what we do. It feels authentic.”
Listening to your perspective, it’s clear that you are placing a strong focus on the brand’s cultural relevance and positioning. At Athleta Mag, we see sport as a form of art and culture: for ASICS, what role do these two dimensions—art and culture—play in the brand’s contemporary identity?
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz: “That’s a great question. We are deeply rooted in sports, for example running and tennis, and we don’t shy away from that. It defines our positioning and gives us a strong, authentic foundation. At the same time, as we look to expand and build deeper connections with our audience, culture becomes increasingly important. We’re interested in engagement, in creating emotional resonance, in establishing something more lasting. Where other brands might approach culture in a more explicit or accelerated way, we prefer to build that connection organically. Culture takes time: it requires patience and consistency. It also needs to emerge from a place that feels natural to us. That’s why moments like Milan Design Week are so meaningful. They allow us to speak about our craft and our design in a context that aligns with our values. Milan Design Week isn’t just about furniture or art: it’s about craftsmanship across disciplines. That resonates strongly with us, especially when you think about the Japanese craftsmanship behind our products. This is where we see the connection: sport, design, and culture as complementary layers. And we believe we have a role to play within that space.”
How does the GEL-KINETIC 2.0 sneaker fit into ASICS’ current journey? Why did you choose to elevate it during this year’s Milan Design Week?
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz: “The product really speaks for itself. The design language of the GEL-KINETIC 2.0 is highly advanced and progressive: it’s a clear expression of form following function. Beyond aesthetics, it’s about comfort and stability. It’s designed for people who spend long hours on their feet, while maintaining a very distinctive visual identity. At ASICS, we take pride in bringing technology to the forefront, what we call ‘visible tech’, and this model is one of the clearest expressions of that philosophy. That’s why Milan Design Week felt like the natural context to showcase it. There’s no better place to talk about design at that level.”
The ASICS Kinetic Playscape: an immersive public installation, a spatial experience where mind and body exist in harmony, a fusion of radical Italian design and Japanese minimalism… How would you define in your own words and thoughts this activation? And what does ASICS aim to communicate and allow people to experience through an installation like this?
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz: “There’s a kind of retro-futuristic quality to it. At ASICS, innovation is always paired with reflection: we move forward, but we also look back. This approach is rooted in the Japanese concept of kaizen, or continuous improvement: learning from the past to inform what comes next. The GEL-KINETIC 2.0 itself is an evolution, and the Kinetic Playscape reflects that same idea. It’s playful, but it also explores the future through a lens that feels almost nostalgic: there’s a certain 1980s, Kubrick-like atmosphere to it. That contrast is intentional, and quite compelling. At its core, though, the installation is about movement. Our ambition is to show that movement, no matter how small, has a positive impact. It doesn’t have to be a 30-kilometer run; even a few minutes of activity can create a sense of mental uplift. The design context is important, of course. It reflects both our Japanese heritage and the city hosting us, but ultimately, the goal is simple: to let people experience how movement makes them feel. To engage with the space, to play, and to leave with a better sense of well-being.”
For the ASICS Kinetic Playscape, you also collaborated with a sound artist such as Mateo Garcia and NUOVA, the Los Angeles-based research and innovation design studio that shaped this installation. How important is the involvement of artists in special projects like this for the brand?
Alvaro Moreno de la Cruz: “It all comes back to craft. Recently, we’ve been reflecting on what truly defines us: not just innovation in itself, but the idea that everything we do is rooted in Japanese craftsmanship. It’s about decades of refinement, attention to detail, quality, and fit. That same principle applies to how we collaborate with artists. Whether it’s a musician, a designer, or an architect, what connects us is a shared dedication to craft: the years of practice, the depth of expertise, the ability to bring together different disciplines… That’s where the synergy lies. It’s a powerful space for us, and one we want to embrace even more. Especially today, in a world increasingly shaped by AI, there’s real value in reconnecting with what people can create with their hands and their minds. Working with artists is a way for us to celebrate that, and to align with individuals who share that same commitment.”
Enrico Pietra & Rodrigo Caula | Design Studio NUOVA
What has sport represented in your life, and what does it represent today?
Enrico Pietra: “Sport plays a fundamental role in my life. It may not be the very first thing, but it’s certainly close. For me, physical activity is inseparable from a sense of well-being: I don’t feel balanced without training. My journey has never been about excelling in a single discipline, but rather about curiosity and exploration. I’ve always loved trying different sports: I started with basketball, then moved into boxing, took a break to focus more on gym training, and more recently returned to practices like jiu-jitsu, alongside running. Movement, in all its forms, has always been a constant.”
Rodrigo Caula: “I played soccer/football for 20 years, so it’s really in my blood… I’m Argentine, after all. I started when I was five, and it has shaped a big part of who I am. More recently, I’ve shifted towards practices like yoga and Pilates, but movement remains essential. I also used to run track, middle to long distances, so that connection to the body has always been there. For me, staying active is not just important, it’s necessary.”
At Athleta Mag, we see sport as a form of art and culture: what role do you think these two dimensions—art, culture and design itself—should play in contemporary sports imagery and in brands like ASICS’ identity?
Enrico Pietra: “Working with ASICS has been an opportunity to rethink the shoe as an instrument of performance: the essential piece of equipment that supports every movement, whether on the pitch, in training, or in the gym. From that starting point, it becomes interesting to place the product in different contexts, allowing disciplines and environments to intersect. Running, training, lifting, design, art… They all begin to overlap more and more, creating a more fluid and integrated vision of sport.”
Rodrigo Caula: “I see it as the next frontier. It’s about continuous evolution: refining, blending, and bringing together different realities. This is the right moment for these worlds to collide. Today, people don’t just want to observe: they want to participate. They want a full, immersive experience. And I think this convergence of sport, art, and culture responds exactly to that desire.”
How was it like crafting a space inspired by the GEL-KINETIC 2.0? How was it like having a sneaker as the genesis of your creative process for the Kinetic Playscape?
Enrico Pietra: “We are deeply connected to tradition, but always looking toward the future, and ASICS reflects that perfectly. You can see it in the GEL-KINETIC 2.0: there’s a strong sense of heritage, yet always combined with new technology. Our approach revolves around retro-futurism. We often work with the idea that time travel is possible. In this project, we imagined taking people back to 1980s Japan, into a kind of testing facility where they can first encounter the shoe, then experience it in unexpected ways: almost as if they were on the moon, experimenting with movement and gravity. From there, the journey shifts again, bringing you into a reinterpretation of a traditional Japanese tea room, with tatami mats, but seen through a contemporary lens, with new patterns and textures. It’s about layering time, culture, and experience.”
Rodrigo Caula: “We started from the concept embedded in the ASICS name itself: ‘Anima Sana in Corpore Sano’. That became the foundation of our research and the structure of the experience. The idea was to create a kind of journey, almost like a performance, guiding people through different states. When you enter the changing room, the goal is to downregulate the nervous system: to bring you into a calm, neutral state. Then, once you put on the shoes, you move into the Playscape, where everything shifts: sound, scent, energy, all working together to activate you. Finally, the experience resolves in the tea room, where you can relax, absorb everything, and return to a more grounded state. It’s a cycle: an interplay between activation and recovery.”
Having experienced the company so deeply, what does the philosophy of ‘Sound Mind, Sound Body’ mean to you today?
Enrico Pietra: “I don’t meditate in the traditional sense, but for me, movement is meditation. Running, lifting: those are the moments where I reset. I always start my day with some form of physical activity. It sets the tone. Without it, I already know the day won’t feel the same.”
Rodrigo Caula: “For me, meditation is a crucial part of daily life. I practice Vedic meditation both in the morning and in the evening: it’s my way of disconnecting from external noise and reconnecting with myself. It helps me find balance, to stay centered, and to maintain a connection between mind and body. Sport then complements this, supporting overall health and reinforcing that sense of equilibrium.”
Surrounding (Echoes)
The editorial conceived by Stoked Studios discloses, and inhabits, an alternative ontology of trail running
At its most lyrical extreme, trail running emerges less as a kinetic act than as a perceptual state. Footfall after footfall, the landscape is sifted through movement, shaped by a drive toward exploration that unfolds as much inwardly as it does outwardly. The field of vision contracts. The body slips into a third register: dispersed, yet uncannily resolved. It hovers within a continuous long take of impressions, inside a tunnel that is at once altered and altering.
The mind oscillates along this transient sensory corridor, recording flashes of the natural world as obstacles, or as intuitions. Another climb, and lived experience begins to coincide with its mediated double. Another descent, and the imagination is left in pursuit of an increasingly irregular real: a landscape fated to lose definition, dissolving into sequences of recurring patterns. Of sound. Of sensation. Of near-immediate echoes.
As in the apex of artistic trance, repetition, trained and internalised, suddenly tips into anticipation. Into automatism. Into invention. Space yields to rhythm, conforming to a temporality that has ceased to be linear. Only the next step remains: already known, already enacted. The cyclical consummation of a dissociative rite. A return to a suspended geography, where everything that surrounds serves only to envelop, and to channel.
This editorial project was produced by Stoked Studios, with the support of Saucony and Wild Tee, whose contribution made it possible.
Credits
Production: Stoked Studios
Creative direction: Leonardo Piai
Photographers: Riccardo Fabris I Valentina Pettinelli I Laura Marchini I Nicolas Teodori
Retoucher: Riccardo Fabris
Filmmakers: Lorenzo Mariotti & Antonio Visinali
Fpv drone: Marco Petrone
Sound: Federico Tansella & Federico Sacchet
Producer assistant: Marco Gallocchio
Talent: Giulia Pettinelli
Text editor: Gianmarco Pacione
Tailoring Sports Imagery, Tiny Idols
Just days before the Opening Ceremony of the Winter Paralympic Games, shaped and produced by Filmmaster, we explored the emotions and philosophy of the person who dressed this symbolic event: the renowned stylist, and Athleta Mag’s Fashion Editor, Silvia Ortombina | Tiny Idols, who for this historic five-ring occasion took on the prestigious role of Costume Director
‘Life in Motion. The Beauty of Humanity in Motion.’ Last Friday, the Arena di Verona inaugurated the Winter Paralympic Games with a monumental ceremony produced by Filmmaster whose very heart, both tangible and intangible, lay precisely in that idea: the Beauty of Humanity in Motion.
Dressing this celebration, an event capable of speaking a language far broader than that of sport alone, was Costume Director Silvia Ortombina | Tiny Idols. A stylist who rose to prominence within the Italian music scene, in recent years Silvia has intertwined her artistic vision with the imagery of sport, becoming Fashion Editor of Athleta Mag and finding in physical effort a muse for her creative expression.
Proud of this latest milestone in her journey, we asked Silvia to trace a constellation of emotions, amplified by her Veronese roots, alongside reflections and biographical notes that help explain what the meeting point between fashion and sport means to her. The conversation also offered an opportunity to reflect on themes that are both highly specific and deeply relevant today, such as adaptive wear and sustainability.
Accompanying the interview is a gallery of her creations unveiled on the night in Verona, along with a selection of special editorials curated by Tiny Idols for Athleta Mag.
How did fashion and sport enter your life, and how much did your family shape this particular intersection?
“Actually, with this ceremony an important circle in my life both closes and opens again. Sport and fashion have always been very close to my family. My mother and my aunt ran a fashion company and, in the 1980s, they mainly produced skiwear and windbreakers: garments that became part of a very iconic sporting imagery, inseparably tied to that era. Later on, my uncle became the right-hand man of Peter Steinenbronn and carved out an important role in developing what we might call the ‘sport couture’ movement of the 1980s. I remember very clearly that, when I was a child, he would often come over to the house and spend hours sketching designs for his creations. One day, for instance, he gave me the Austrian team uniform from the Winter Olympics, which he had worked on. Watching those drawings come to life before my eyes was something that undoubtedly left a mark on me.”
At Athleta we tell the story of sport as an artistic and cultural form. Styling, in its own way, is also an artistic and cultural practice. What does it mean for you to be a stylist? And how would you describe your artistic philosophy?
“For me, being a stylist means building a visual language: creating images that tell the story of a person, a moment, an imaginary world… Images that carry a message. My philosophy often emerges from the meeting of different worlds. Cross-pollination is the key word: bringing spheres such as art, music, cinema and sport into dialogue with one another. I’m deeply interested in observing the body in motion: the discipline, the strength of the gesture. In that sense, sport is an extraordinary source of inspiration because it contains a profoundly authentic dimension. My work always tries to move between aesthetics and authenticity: creating images that hold symbolic meaning while remaining deeply human.”
Your professional rise took place in close contact with the Italian music scene. Later, you decided to place that alongside the world of sport, becoming Fashion Editor at Athleta. What kind of muse have you found in the imagery of sport?
“Music was my core field before sport, an incredible environment to work in. It taught me how powerfully image can become part of an artist’s narrative. When I began working more closely with sport, I discovered an entirely different imagery, yet equally powerful. The athlete remains radically anchored to themselves. The body tells the story of discipline, fatigue and resilience. That authenticity struck me deeply. Within the imagery of sport I found a very strong muse: the truth of the gesture. It’s an aesthetic that doesn’t arise from construction, but from action.”
What did you feel when you discovered you had been selected as Costume Director for the Paralympics? And what emotions emerge now, after seeing this major event take shape, particularly in a place as iconic for you as the Arena di Verona?
“When I received the news, the feeling was incredibly intense, almost difficult to describe. On one side there was a great sense of responsibility; on the other, an enormous sense of gratitude. The Paralympics represent something that goes beyond spectacle. They speak about possibility, transformation, and above all humanity. Within them coexist elements that are rarely seen together with such clarity: strength, fragility, and a very authentic form of beauty, one that arises from overcoming limits and from the ability to transform one’s body into a space of possibility. The fact that all of this took shape in a place like the Arena di Verona holds an even deeper meaning for me. Being from Verona, it’s a space filled with memory and emotion. Seeing it become the stage for such a powerful event, where strength and fragility meet and generate a new form of beauty, moves me deeply. What will probably remain most vivid for me, however, are the stories these young athletes shared with me during fittings and dressings: very intimate moments in which, behind every athlete, a personal journey emerged: one made of determination, falls and rebirths. That is where I truly felt the depth of this project.”
There is a significant difference between the role of stylist and that of Costume Director. What was it like translating the suggestions of other creatives into a visual grammar?
“The work of a costume director is very different from that of a stylist. It’s a bit like assembling a puzzle without having all the pieces in front of you from the beginning. Elements arrive progressively: from the director, the choreography, the music, the set design. Imagining how they will converse with one another even before seeing them truly together is the real challenge. It requires a different imaginative strength. As a stylist, you often work around the identity of a single person or artist; as a costume director, you must think on a far more collective, almost orchestral scale. The final design reveals itself gradually as the project takes shape.”
Another theme you’ve highlighted in several interviews is sustainability. What message did you want to bring forward?
“For me, sustainability is non-negotiable. At a moment like this, we simply cannot do without it, first and foremost for cultural reasons. In this project we worked extensively with the idea of circularity: reusing costumes, employing reclaimed materials, using fabrics sourced from social cooperatives. I wanted to show that even a very large event can emerge from a more conscious approach. Creativity does not necessarily depend on the accumulation of new things. Often it arises precisely from the ability to transform what already exists.”
Let’s talk about adaptive wear. Could you explain what it is to readers who may not be familiar with the concept?
“Adaptive wear is a field of design focused on creating garments that are accessible and functional for people with different physical abilities. It means rethinking closures, cuts, materials and fit in order to allow as many bodies as possible to wear a garment independently. In the Paralympic context, this theme naturally becomes central. Collaborating with Francesco Matera, who specializes in this field with Materia Adapt, was extremely stimulating. It pushed me to rethink the way a garment is designed, and to do so through the unique stories of the athletes we encountered.”
After this experience, what are your hopes for the future relationship between fashion and sport?
“I believe the dialogue between fashion and sport is destined to become increasingly compelling. Sport today is visual culture: it shapes identity and builds community. Fashion can help narrate these dimensions, but also make them more accessible. My hope is that this synergy continues to evolve in an authentic way, always keeping at its center the body, the gesture, and the humanity that sport represents.”
