From Studio to Slopes: The Story Behind the Sun Cruiser x Draplin Ski
Aaron Draplin’s work is a testament to the power of authentic design. He's a creative force known for his thick lines, bold colors, and an honest, no-nonsense approach to everything he touches. So when Sun Cruiser and Parlor Skis came calling, it was a perfect match. This wasn't about simply slapping a logo on a product; it was about translating Draplin’s entire creative ethos onto a new and unexpected canvas. We spoke with the man behind the Draplin Design Co. to uncover the story of this collaboration, delving into the design, the process, and why these aren't just skis, but a piece of creative legacy you can ride.
How did the collaboration with Sun Cruiser come about, and what made you feel like this was the right project to bring your design philosophy to the world of skiing?
They hit me up earlier this summer and of course, I tried my level best to scare them off! Crying on their shoulder with my “It’s been so long since I did a board” lament. The ol’ “Kids are going to smell how out of it I am!” Thing didn’t work. They wouldn’t have any of it. We discussed their theme for the upcoming winter, wrangled a little paperwork and I was off and running. The same way I did it back in 2005. “Cruising Altitude” were the words they were focusing on. I wanted to make something that celebrated the pursuit to go up into the mountains and rip the shit out of the place. Simple, geometric moves to invoke that feeling of the ride up to the hill, fired up for a fun day of snowboarding. And—gotta be careful with this one—skiing too. There, I said it. For all the skiers reading these words, there’s still time to hop the fence over to snowboarding!
Your work is known for being clean, bold, and free of "bullshit." How did you apply that specific lens to a ski design, a medium often saturated with complex graphics and loud visuals?
It always goes back to when I was a young snapperwhipper. I remember the exciting graphics on skis, snowmobiles and resorts where I grew up Northern Michigan. This was the early ‘80s, and things had this…uh…restraint to the stuff? And that was simply due to the limitations at hand in how they could embellish the products and signs and stuff. As the action sport world exploded with more and more opportunities to go apeshit all over hell’s half acre, so did the graphics. And I’d challenge, did they need to? Go look up some old, beat-to-shit K2s from 1978, and you’ll get the answer to that one. They STILL work.
The skis were manufactured by Parlor, a company celebrated for its craftsmanship and custom build process. Can you talk about working with them and how their dedication to the craft complemented your design?
And don’t forget the snowboard they made! For the record, we started with the snowboard, THEN went to skis. (Take that, ski patrol jock who poked me in the calf to get out of his way in the lift line in 1988.) I digress…Honestly, I can’t say I know the Parlor folks at all? They had the ear of Suncruiser and I did some quick research and saw all the cool stuff they were making. I‘ve been so out of the alpine world for so long, I’m not up to speed. Plus, they were on the east coast!? There was something cool and underdog-ish about that? And I dig that. It’s not easy to make a board or set of skis. From what I saw? They are doing it, so I was all in on behalf of Suncruiser! Go! If that’s too floppy of an answer…my apologies, shred heads!
Beyond the final product, what was the creative process like for this project? Can you share any stories or anecdotes from initial sketches to the final graphics?
Those awesome Suncruiser cans. That was enough for me. Thick lines and bold graphics from the jump, to tune into and draft off. I simply gave their feel a little “up and away” and that guided the sketches right into the first vectored design the team saw. I showed a couple different directions and the design we landed on quickly started taking shape. Simple moves…pushing you up, up, up into the mountains!
Your design philosophy is deeply personal and rooted in hard work and a "do-it-yourself" mentality. How do you see that connecting with the spirit of outdoor and mountain culture?
There was always a danger to the stuff? Especially to a kid from the Midwest who moved out into the west when things were still being invented. Things got big. And unruly. That was 1993. And one thing you quickly learn is this: “You better watch yer ass up in those big hills…” and also got slapped in the face with, “We can’t afford a lot of this stuff.” So we’d fill the holes that our pass to Mt. Bachelor couldn’t cover by hiking and building booters all over the western states. Just like when we were rats back in Michigan.
The first snow in Michigan? We’d sweep it all into one lane, build a little jump and get radical. We made our own fun then, and I can only speak for snowboarders, we did precisely the same on a bigger stage out west. You just had to be careful. Shit was bigger. We loved our time at the big resorts and the slick lifts and gondolas and all that. But we didn’t need it. We knew how to make our own way from our roots. There’s a connection there! That spirit grabbed us by the pharynx and took us all over the west. (Don’t know that word? Ask Jeeves.)
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These skis and board aren't just a product; they're an intersection of art, design, and sport. What do you hope people feel when they see and ride these on the mountain?
Here’s my hope: I hope they have a ripping time on them. Just that. Up in the hills, in the backcountry, at some over-priced aprés resort, on some crusty rail or at some iced-over Midwestern molehill…my hope is this board and skis makes it under the feet of folks who are excited to get weird out there. With their buddies having fun. And if they are swilling a couple cans of Suncruiser? Just keep yer cool, know what I’m saying?
Your company motto is, "Work hard. Do good work. For good people." How does this ski collaboration fit into that philosophy?
Like any project, I vet them before I sign on the dotted line. Their hearts seemed in the right place with how this contribution to the alpine world would go down, and that was enough for me. Once I make it past that hurdle, I’m off and running working hard for them. No different than when I started. But know this: There’s been some turkeys along the way who weren’t the right fit. So I politely passed and wished them luck. Sorry-not-sorry, Camel cigarettes…you turds!
This collaboration has been a passion project for a lot of people involved. What was the most rewarding part of seeing this all come to life?
It hasn’t happened just yet, but there’s a good chance I’ll get a DM or shot to my flip phone from some ripper who’s digging the board somewhere cool. Each time that happens? The absolute best. Always so proud to see my graphics underneath people having fun out in the world. Just like when I started this stuff in 1994 with my first graphic for Solid snowboards. I’ll never forget seeing it at Mt. Baker whip by, just months after submitting my graphic to Neil Rankin. One of the coolest moments of my little life!!!
Looking ahead, what's next for DDC? Are there other unexpected canvases you’re hoping to bring your work to?
More drawing in my Field Notes, more time off the job doing nothing, more time with my moonbeam Leigh, more time with Mom, more time outside. I was lucky to have a good run in graphic design and knew it was a fart in stiff wind, and all could go away in a snap of a moose knuckle. So I battened down the hatches, took every gig (just about) and saved my loot for a rainy decade. Has that time come? My financial advisor advises against slowing down, but I’m making moves to enjoy doing less and less RIGHT NOW. Chasing joy instead of paychecks. Suncruiser were great folks to roll my sleeves up for, trusted me with graphics and in all honesty, an ice-cold Suncruiser is pretty delicious. Not all that much of a drinker, myself…but maybe this is my chance to get all hammered up on Suncruiser and start a whole new life? Sounds kinda fun. Stay safe out there, you animals!
As we finish our conversation, it's clear that for Aaron Draplin, this ski collaboration is more than just a job. It's an extension of his life’s work—a pursuit of good design, good people, and a good story. These skis and snowboards are a testament to that philosophy, a fusion of his bold vision and the timeless craftsmanship of Parlor. For anyone lucky enough to get a pair, it's not just about a new set of skis or new board; it's about owning a piece of a creative legacy that’s ready for the mountain.
