Story by Farrin Foster | Photographs by Harry Freeman

There are times in life when you simply want to look good. And then there are times when you want to look good while being protected from a hail of bullets shot at you by the Medellín cartel.

This is the sort of delightful question that you never need answer because you can always change your mind and paste over whatever the hell you were thinking last year when you glued that Alaskan wilderness scene to your living room wall.

No we haven’t suddenly forgotten everything Sesame Street taught us about spelling, it’s just an extravagant pun we thought entirely appropriate for this extravagant Nike project.

“It was hot. Same kind of hot that creeps up the back and whispers thoughts of rage in the ear of the most placid man…”

by Farrin Foster

The bass fades out and with a final cymbal crash, the crowd pulls out a last pitchy scream of appreciation. As the band file off stage the crowd follow suit, dispersing into clusters throughout the club. I head to the bar, just managing to beat the inevitably enormous queue.

 By Farrin Foster.