1,750 copies, zero session: why skate reissues are flying off shelves

March 24, 2026. Powell Peralta drops the Bones Brigade Series 17: six decks, six names, Rodney Mullen, Mike McGill, Tommy Guerrero, Lance Mountain, Tony Hawk, Steve Caballero. Each graphic is pulled from a run of 1,750 numbered units, never re‑issued in this version. Price at an American shop: $129.95.

Just a few days later, on YouTube, Sean Goff, a 61‑year‑old rider, opens the crate in front of his camera. He flips each board, shows the number. Nobody talks about putting them together. So why do adults shell out double the price of a shop deck for a maple slab that’ll never touch concrete? The answer drops at the end.

Bones Brigade Series 17: six 1984 decks, 1,750 each

These aren’t “inspired by the ’80s”; they’re the original shapes. The McGill Skull and Snake runs 9.88 inches wide, a single kick, just like in ’85. Hawk’s got his Chicken Skull, Caballero’s Street, Mullen’s Chess.

The ritual’s been running for years: one series a year, the same six riders, colors that shift. In 2024, Series 15 came with a numbered sticker and a postcard.

Compare that to your shop wall: in 2023, a pro deck sold between $60 and $85 in the U.S., according to Jenkem’s price‑rise survey. The re‑issue costs almost double. And it still flies off the shelves.

1984: the deck you never kept intact

Backtrack. The Bones Brigade started in 1979, built by George Powell and Stacy Peralta. In 1984, the Bones Brigade Video Show moved from tape to tape. Kids caught Hawk, Caballero and Rodney Mullen on a worn cassette, and wanted that same board.

Sauf qu’une planche, à l’époque, c’est un outil. Paul Schmitt, fondateur de PS Stix, rappelle qu’elle coûtait autour de 45 $. Tu la ridais, tu la cassais, tu en rachetais une. Personne n’en gardait sous plastique.

La même année, Santa Monica Airlines sort la première planche pro de Natas Kaupas, avec la panthère de Kevin Ancell. Vingt ans plus tard, Natas fonde Designarium et fait réinterpréter sa panthère en séries limitées : reprendre une image que tout le monde a usée, et la proposer cette fois pour le mur.

James Lamb l’a compris avant tout le monde. Ce collectionneur de l’Ontario possède entre 600 et 700 planches vintage d’origine. Il a skaté des Vision et des Schmitt Stix entre 1987 et 1990, et c’est exactement ce qu’il collectionne, comme il le raconte à Jenkem en 2022.

Dead stock : jusqu’à 15 000 $ pour une 101 Natas jamais montée

La planche d’époque jamais montée a un nom : NOS, ou dead stock. Comme presque tout le monde ridait ses planches, il en reste très peu. Et c’est là que les prix décollent.

John Arbuckle, collectionneur interrogé par Jenkem en décembre 2023, cite la planche que tout le monde cherche : la 101 Natas « Devil Worship », dessinée par Marc McKee, qu’il estime entre 10 000 et 15 000 $ en état NOS. Dans le même article, Bill Simpson raconte qu’une Josh Kalis Photosynthesis d’Alien Workshop est partie à plus de 1 500 $ sur eBay.

Les planches qui valent cher sont celles des riders qui ont compté, comme Kalis, dont on a raconté le départ pour Love Park : une planche, c’est aussi une époque et un spot.

« An original will always be an original. And a reissue will always be a ripoff. » — James Lamb, collector of 600 to 700 original decks, at Jenkem in 2022

For Lamb, reissues are for skating, originals are for preserving history.

Sotheby’s, 2019: $800,000 for 248 decks, and a 17‑year‑old buyer

Think it’s just a nostalgia thing for old‑timers? January 2019, Sotheby’s, New York: Ryan Fuller’s collection of the 248 decks released by Supreme since its inception goes for $800,000, according to Robb Report.

The buyer, Carson Guo, is 17. He lives in Vancouver and wants to display the decks in a gallery. The gesture that was once reserved for old skaters, the next generation is taking it to the next level.

Among collectors, reissues split opinions. Eric Pinto, interviewed by Jenkem in 2022, believes nothing beats the original, but reissues lift its value. Nick Halkias doesn’t care: a reissue is easy to spot, so just ride it.

Caballero, Hosoi, Mountain: the legends are 60, so are their fans

October 2012, Chelsea Piers, New York. At the Vans Bowl‑A‑Rama, Hosoi, Caballero, Mountain and Grosso wait their turn on the edge of the bowl, past their forties. The names Powell reissues every year. And they’re still shredding.

The same year, Stacy Peralta released Bones Brigade: An Autobiography, the documentary that tells the team from the inside. For one generation, a rewind of an hour and a half. For Powell Peralta, a showcase.

Do the math. The kid who saw Video Show at 12 in 1984 is about 54 now. He has a paycheck, a wall in his living room, and the memory of the deck he never could afford, or that he broke on a curb. That’s Sean Goff.

Tony Hawk’s aging with the crew, and he’s still shredding (we’ve covered that in why his generation never quits). As long as the legends keep riding, their boards stay alive.

Why the re‑issues are ripped off: the answer’s in a numbered box

Picture the box arriving. The plastic film crackling, the maple scent, the raw wood without grip. No trucks yet. You’re hunting the number: 0412 of 1,750. It’ll hit the wall at eye level.

That’s the clear answer. Re‑issues fly because you’re not buying a new board. You’re buying back the one you wrecked at 12, at an adult price. The original intact is almost gone, precisely because it’s been ripped: a 101 Natas dead stock can fetch up to $15,000. The re‑issue offers the same graphic for $130. The number does the rest: it turns a series product into a piece that only 1,749 other people own.

And it’s not just nostalgia: originals don’t return to the market, buyers have the age and the cash, the brand creates scarcity. Even the shapes follow the trend of wide boards, broken down in why skaters are back to 10‑inch.

The purist is wrong on one point: the re‑issue does the original a favor. Every run reminds you how much the real thing is worth. Mullen’s board at the Smithsonian, gnawed to the wood, lost nothing because Powell re‑issues his Chess.

One question remains. The kids who’re breaking Fucking Awesome or Baker boards on curbs right now will hit 50 someday. Someone will re‑issue them, numbered, and they’ll pay double without hesitation.

The board from your youth you’d buy back as a numbered re‑issue, which one would it be? Drop it in the comments ↓