“Things like “send your entries to “the crack in the arse cheeks of Jim Peskett, 1 Stert Street, Abingdon” etc…”
“We had one lady write in to tell us that she’d found a copy in her son’s room, and she was banning him from ever reading it again. So we gifted him a free subscription for life and awarded her letter of the month. I think the most complaints came from the actual post office in the UK because we’d always have a contest or competition in the mag with some stupid address as part of the entry. Things like “send your entries to “the crack in the arse cheeks of Jim Peskett, 1 Stert Street, Abingdon” etc… and Jim (he was the owner of the publishing company) who was pretty much always the butt of the jokes, would literally plead with us not to do that shit anymore because the postal service had threatened him with being blacklisted from receiving post, and his argument was that it would shut the publishing business down.”
The Digital Revolution
As always, time and tide wait for no man. Or magazine. By the mid-2010s, it was clear that the print age was waning, and the shelves of once-proud stockists of snowboard magazines stood as empty as the Old Trafford Home end in the 88th minute. But, as United fans leaving a game early often realise to their dismay, it ain’t over till it’s over. There’s always ‘Fergie Time’ and a last-minute banger to be scored out of nowhere.
Yes, the appetite for media consumption had shifted, and convenience and instant gratification became a priority. But this ease of access actually allowed the industry to grow massively; people didn’t have to wait months to get their snowboarding fix- it was a 24-hour buffet where sliding sideways was the order of the day. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m not comparing old school mags to steak tartare and current digital offerings to Big Macs… But, as they say, there’s a time and a place for everything. Sometimes you want a slap-up 14-course meal with accompanying tasting wines, or a 150-page, premium quality coffee table-style magazine with paper so luxurious you caress it like a lover. Other times, you want a cacophony of 10-second phone clips uploaded straight into your eyeballs and to shove a greasy kebab into your gob on the night bus home. It’s all good things in moderation, eh?
Print editions of Whitelines officially ceased in 2015, with WL120 being the last to grace shelves. Announced online (of course), the editor at the time, Ed Blomfield’s statement was a candid look at the viability of print media in the modern age. “Factory Media’s proposal to sacrifice print frees up the editorial staff to channel all that passion and energy into their websites, including this one. As a team, we’re obviously gutted to see the end of a paper publication into which we poured heart and soul over two decades. But with the good ship WL celebrating its 20th anniversary this year, we’re also excited to see where – with a renewed focus and a healthy budget – we can take it next. Expect a slicker website delivering more unique video, more gear reviews, more how-tos, more travel… more of all the things you enjoy. In 2015, original, high-quality content is the order of the day. Ultimately, however, it’s just about staying true to that original goal of stoking out the readers; if you guys are here online, then that’s where we need to be.”
As the print run ended, Whitelines went full hog into the digital revolution, pivoting to modernity with a grace usually reserved for willowy ballet dancers, not middle-aged snowboarders. With staff members no longer being pulled in multiple directions, it allowed the online platforms to flourish. Whitelines was already known for its in-depth gear guides, and the Whitelines 100 served as a touchstone for the season’s must-have product, but this freeing up of time and resources gave the website and social media profiles a new lease of life and the title was no longer seen as a UK offering and became a true worldwide favourite.
