A muted pink body, a long horizontal print in a similar shade, and the name McGILL running down one side. From a little distance, the graphic almost settles into the fabric. It is a quieter arrangement than a single large image in the middle of the shirt.
This is an actual garment recorded in Tictionary’s 1990s Mike McGill T-shirt archive (full entry for members). Its name offers a starting point for a small detour: from the rider represented on clothing to an artist behind skate graphics. That artist is V.C. Johnson, or Vernon Courtlandt Johnson, whose work is closely associated with Powell-Peralta.
The pictured shirt should first be separated from the famous graphics discussed below. Its horizontal print is not the Skull & Snake design. The sources consulted for this article do not establish who drew this particular print either. We have chosen it as a way to follow a rider’s name into the work of an artist, without assigning an unverified credit to the garment.
The rider’s name and the artist’s name
Mike McGill is the rider; V.C. Johnson is the artist. They can appear in the same account while playing different roles. Asking whose T-shirt something is can easily blur that distinction.
Powell-Peralta’s official account dates McGill’s Skull & Snake graphic to 1984 and credits Vernon Courtlandt Johnson. It also attributes the suggestion of a snake and lightning to McGill, connecting those elements with his home state of Florida.
A rider’s ideas can become an image through another person’s drawing. Recognizing that relationship brings a second person into view behind a familiar name. Keeping separate notes for the brand, rider, and artist also makes it easier to look for other work by the same artist.
But the origin of one signature image is not the origin of every graphic associated with that rider. The snake-and-lightning account cannot simply be transferred to the McGill shirt shown here. First match the actual design, then connect its background. That small pause makes an archive description more dependable.
Ripper did not begin on a skateboard
Ripper offers another route into Johnson’s work. According to the brand’s official history, the 1983 graphic first appeared as a dealer window sticker, then on T-shirts, and subsequently on decks.
It is tempting to assume that skate imagery always moved from boards to clothing. This example followed a different sequence. A shop window, a garment, a piece of equipment: tracing those settings gives us more ways to think about what people encountered around an American skate shop. This is a reading of the documented uses, rather than an account of visiting a particular store.
A window image is seen by someone passing by. A shirt introduces a moving body and a choice of print placement. A deck provides a long, narrow surface. The conditions for seeing an image change even when the drawing remains recognizable. When comparing an official reissue photograph with an older garment, look at scale and position as well as the outline of the graphic.
The year 1983 here belongs to the graphic. It does not date every shirt carrying that image. Likewise, the 1990s description of our opening garment comes from the existing archive record; this article does not report a new physical authentication.
Black-and-white work beyond skateboarding
Johnson’s own website introduces black-and-white work beyond his skateboard graphics, including pen, brush, woodcut, and scratchboard pieces. It is an opportunity to start with a familiar name on a product and move toward different ways of making pictures.
His Pen & Ink portfolio lists Skull Study with a 1974 date, Skull with a 1980 date, and Ry Cooder T-Shirt with a 1988 date. Skull imagery and music-related work appear within one artist’s portfolio. The listings do not establish these as preparatory drawings for any particular skate graphic, so we treat them as separate works.
Choose just one image when you open the page. Look for a firm outline, an area darkened by repeated fine marks, or white space left untouched. Following those differences before reading the subject’s name can reveal things that a search for a product title would miss.
Then return to the shirt photograph. With the closely related fabric and ink colors of our opening example, the horizontal arrangement and lettering may register before individual lines do. This is not a claim of shared authorship. It is an exercise in looking separately at a drawing and at the way an image reads on clothing. A faint-looking print also cannot, from one photograph alone, tell us precisely how much it has faded through washing or what its original colors were.
From one shirt to another person
A brand or rider’s name can remain prominent on a skate T-shirt while the artist’s name is less immediately visible. Checking an official artwork credit and then exploring the artist’s own portfolio can carry an interest beyond a single company.
When another shirt catches your eye, add “Who drew this?” to “When was it made?” If the artist remains unknown, retain the photograph and source without filling in the gap. That room for uncertainty can remain part of the pleasure of looking at old T-shirts.
Related reading: Bones Brigade, teams, and films. This article takes a different route, following the people who draw the imagery rather than revisiting the team’s history.
Photograph: an existing Tictionary garment record, original media 2951; not AI-generated. Sources checked September 25, 2026. This is a newly written article, rather than a republication or re-edit of a California Blues post.
