Interview
Why does this man paint lightning bolts on football shirts?
You once said: “If it can be painted, I’ll find a way to leave my mark on it.” Do you remember the first shirt you ever painted?
The very first one was PSG’s 2017–2018 away shirt — the all-yellow one. I’ve always had loads of football shirts at home, but at the time I mostly painted sneakers. I was starting to get bored of that scene — it had become a bit oversaturated, everyone was doing the same thing. But no one was painting shirts. So I started with PSG, with no real plan, just to see where it would take me. That first piece came out of that experiment. I posted it online, and the reactions showed me that my work really connected with people. I realized it was more than just “paint on clothes” — it was a true fusion of my passion for art and my love for football. I’ve painted around 300 shirts since then, about fifteen of which I’ve kept for my personal collection. Aside from those, I probably have between twenty and thirty shirts — nothing too crazy for now.
What’s your relationship with football? I heard you were quite a good player back in England.
When I was younger, football was literally my whole life — I played every single day and trained four times a week, with matches every weekend. It was more or less everything to me. I reached a pretty decent level with the Queens Park Rangers youth team, playing as a left-back, before an injury ended my potential career at sixteen. In England, that’s about as high as you can go as a youth player. But my love for the game never left me. I just wanted to find new ways to express that passion and my love for football.
How is painting a football shirt different from painting a canvas or a wall?
It taps into something much more personal. Canvases are made for walls — they’re meant to be hung up — whereas a shirt lives with the person who wears it. They can move in it, play football in it… and the shirt becomes part of their identity, their memories. They’re clothes, but also works of art. Some of my shirts do end up framed on walls, but others are meant to be worn. Anything’s possible.
Your shirts are easily recognizable thanks to that particular pattern — those “Zs” or lightning bolts you paint everywhere. Why that motif?
It’s something that came naturally — many people call them lightning bolts, and I’m fine with that, but it wasn’t intentional. It just evolved organically as I spent hours and hours painting shirts and refining my style. It wasn’t planned. When I paint, I roughly decide where to place things, but it’s also a very free process — I just let things happen and see where it goes.
How long does it take you to complete one piece?
It depends on a few things — the complexity, the components… Every shirt has its own unique material. On average, I’d say each piece takes between two and four days of work, including drying time between layers. Nothing is printed — it’s all paint. There’s absolutely no room for error.
Was there a shirt you dreamed of as a kid — one whose design might have inspired your work today?
For me, it’s the whole Total 90 era from the 2000s — which, by the way, is making a comeback right now. I’m thinking, for instance, of Brazil’s 2002 World Cup-winning kit. It was so innovative in its shape and design. I was immediately struck by the bold choice to place the numbers on the front of the shirt, inside that distinctive circle — something that had never been done before. It was one of the first designs to really push the boundaries of what a football shirt could look like, especially for national teams, which were still very traditional back then. That shirt carries the unmistakable stamp of Nike from that era — a special period in football when not only were the kits beautiful, but they were also worn by icons. Ronaldinho, Ronaldo… The nostalgia I feel when I see those early-2000s shirts makes them my absolute favorites.
What’s been the hardest piece to paint?
It’s not about the club itself — it’s more about the design. A plain shirt is actually much harder for me to work on. Take Liverpool’s home shirt, for example — just red, with the white stripes on the shoulders. It’s much tougher for me to bring my style to life on something so minimal. I find it easier to work with shirts that have three colors or more — it gives me more elements to play with.
Is that why your favorite shirts are PSG’s?
Yes! That, and the fact that I’m a huge PSG fan. I’ll always be, first and foremost, an Arsenal supporter — but being a Gunner and growing up with Arsène’s French players made me naturally appreciate French football. Thierry Henry is my favorite player of all time, plain and simple (laughs). French football has always fascinated me, and PSG has now become a global force — especially in London, where a lot of people follow what the club does on and off the pitch, particularly in fashion. You see PSG shirts and tracksuits everywhere on the streets. Right now, though, the EFC (European Football Clubs) shirt I’ve just finished might be my favorite piece. It connects a lot of European clubs together, which I think reflects who I’m trying to be as an artist and what my work stands for: bringing people together. I wanted the design to express that sense of unity — it carries a meaning that goes much deeper than anything I’ve painted before.
Some people see football shirts as sacred objects — untouchable. They might think that painting over their club’s colors somehow defiles them. What would you say to that?
I get it — and in a way, I even share that feeling. I have shirts in my own collection that are tied to memories I’d never want to alter, and I’d never paint over them. But that’s exactly the point — it’s something deeply personal. Shirts hold emotions, and that’s precisely why I paint them. I’m not erasing what they are; I’m adding another layer to their story — while respecting their past and the nostalgia they evoke. Many people who come to me have very meaningful reasons for wanting to give a shirt a new identity, a new chapter — and that’s what makes the process so powerful.
