Cutting Edge: Lucas Lecacheur’s Violent Eye and “Perfect Designs”

It takes a lot to raise eyebrows around surfboard factories—there are plenty of creatures and characters lurking around the industrial enclaves where shapers and laminators mow foam and grind fiberglass. 

But a rockabilly Frenchman walking around the Waialua Sugar Mill in a skin tight wife beater, jorts, and thigh-high black cowboy boots—well, let’s just say you’re gonna draw some attention. 

Lucas Lecacheur—known worldwide these days by Perfect Designs—rolled through Hawaii last year, as part of a months long world tour shaping his violently conceptual art pieces (and only slightly more user-friendly range of shapes under the Lux Label), and showing his gorgeously strange short films, with stops in Japan, California, Portugal for Gliding Barnacles and elsewhere.

With a mix of post-punk/new wave/goth, and, say, a young Peter Schroff, over the last few years, Lucas has established himself as a rather polarizing figure in the surf world, especially among board builders—not necessarily the most open-minded bunch, historically. 

But once people have gotten past Lucas’ curious facade, they’ve encountered a sweet, thoughtful, gifted artist and craftsman who is genuinely interested in creating art that holds a mirror up to our little, often too-serious, subculture. 

During his stay, Lucas threw a party at The Center Of Radical Education, chatting with guests about his White Fin Project and book—a concept born from the idea that, by adding a fin onto pretty much anything, you’ve got a surfboard. 

We chatted with Lucas about his trajectory, growing up in France to globetrotting the world freaking surfers out wherever he goes.

You grew up in Normandy, yeah? That coastline is pretty rugged and the scene is pretty core. What was your early surfing life like and how did you get into shaping your own boards? What were the outside influences shaping you creatively outside surfing?

I was born in Paris but moved to Île de Ré when I was 8, a small island off the west coast of France. A pretty mellow and slow lifestyle: village life, riding bicycles. I had always dreamed of being a rockstar, and surfing and playing guitar were what I needed to keep the dream alive. But throughout my youth, I was always craving the city and the action.

As a surfer, I was a thruster kid, surfing regional competitions, although I mostly rode a twin fish. Right next to the island was the UWL Surfboard Factory, where I got my boards. Later on, they started inviting renowned shapers, and I got to meet Josh Martin, Neal Purchase, Thomas Bexon, etc. 

When I finally moved back to Paris at 19, I started a punk band called Bad Pelicans.
My bandmate Fernando and I shared a passion for surfing, and we always knew we were going to shape surfboards at some point, but we had the band and many musical side projects and played every week with different bands. 

We released a lot of music, took part in the underground Paris music scene, and went on tour whenever we could. Through those years, we shaped our vision, shared new concepts and ideas, and constantly tried new things.

When COVID hit, Bad Pelicans was selling out bigger venues in Paris, actively touring Europe, and had just returned from recording a new album in Seattle.

But due to the pandemic, music was basically over at that point. Bored one night, I drew a pointy, stupid surfboard on a piece of paper and sent a photo to Fernando. He called me instantly, and we laughed our asses off. The next day, I called him on FaceTime wearing a suit and sunglasses. I took an old, damaged shortboard and started cutting into the tail in a bat-tail shape, without any warning.

Later that day, I went to see the local shaper wearing the same outfit (suit and sunglasses) and told him something had happened and the board needed some care. He looked at me like I was a psychopath.

Eventually, I begged him to let me shape a board with him. When he finally agreed, I showed him the drawing from the night before. He seemed extremely confused but agreed in the end. A week later, Fernando showed up, also wearing a suit, and we started shaping The Cowboy Boot Surfboard.

What made you start thinking of a surfboard as a creative, expressive form instead of a strict, functional object?

I studied Electroacoustic Composition for about eight years. It is a very wild and experimental form of musical expression, using sound and noise as a physical material, creating conceptual pieces made of both soft and harsh elements. I guess I have always loved exploring outside the lines, surprising myself, and crafting something I've never seen before.

Growing up in Paris, with parents who adored the arts, our weekends were spent going to museums, the cinema, and cultural events. I always knew there was more out there and constantly craved learning.

I love concepts, strong gestures, and no compromises. Once you start to understand what has already been done and have explored the progressions of surfboard shaping, a new question arises. What else is there to see? What comes next?

I wanted to be amazed, and I wanted to be moved, but nothing truly excited me anymore. Eventually, I realized that what I was looking for was to see someone create Perfect Designs. But nothing like that existed, so I had to make it happen myself.

What was the early response to some of your more aggressive pieces?

Perfect Designs’ first impression on the world was one of strong confusion. People were making fun of it, thinking it was only a joke. Then the boards were surfed, and a divide began to form between absolute adoration and outright hate.

What have been some of the more memorable shows? How important has the film and photography side of these projects been? Do you conceive the pieces with cinematic ideas in your mind?

The first Perfect Designs event took place at a big RVCA artist convention in Paris, where they asked us to play a live music set. We ended up agreeing to do a DJ set instead.

We had a stage in the center of the space, surrounded by 60 artists showcasing their work. When the moment came to perform, just before getting on stage, we agreed to do nothing. So we stood on stage, with an iPad on a stool between us, and started staring at everybody, taking turns tapping the iPad to change the track.

After two hours of wild music selection (country, black metal, UK jungle, Nickelback, harsh noise, classical music) the people from RVCA were very excited. "Guys, that was absolutely amazing. Could you do it again tomorrow?"

We did.

Like with a band, it is impossible for me to separate the aesthetic and performance aspects from the music. Rock and roll would have never been rock and roll without the performance, fashion, personality, and cinematic elements behind it.

Anyone can make a weird surfboard, but Perfect Designs is about the entire universe that surrounds it. Each board carries its own concept and story, and when I have time, I like to expand on it through a film, a zine, or a photo shoot.

People do not always notice it, but Perfect Designs is a collaborative concept. I work with many creatives, including photographers, designers, poets, and filmmakers. It is a platform I put forward to create and collaborate with people I trust and who are genuinely into it.

Tell us about your World Tour, Japan, your experience hanging in Hawaii at Third Stone and some of the characters who made an impression on you.

It’s my second year spending a month in Japan, and it feels like I have a family there. In two years, I have done four exhibitions, launched two books with my publisher Upcoming Studio, played two live music shows, a DJ set, and made cocktails in a noise bar.

The hotel WPU Shinjuku keeps “La Guillotine” safe in their lobby. “La Guillotine” is an extremely sharp, metallic-looking surfboard I made last year with Akinobu Sekizawa.

This year in Chiba, I made three new surfboards at Tappy Yoshikawa’s factory. The Tappy crew have become like family, and I can’t wait to go back for more.

In Tokyo, I have ongoing projects with performance and bondage artists, as well as great photographers. I met a kid this year named Uminosuke Oguma, and he is now my first and only team rider.

Hawaii is a special place, and as I expected, I felt like I had to prove myself to other shapers.(Though I do not feel like I have anything to prove, because I am not even competing with the past. My gesture is to reinvent surfing as if it never existed.)

I made two surfboards at C.O.R.E and stayed in the room at Third Stone Hawaii in the Sugar Mill for a week. After launching new films in the new space, I got the worst food poisoning of my life and accepted my destiny: to die on the North Shore.

Britt Wild from Third Stone saved my life with some Pepto Bismol, sourdough bread, and Coca-Colas. When I came back to life, I went straight to the shaping bay to finish my duty.

The planer had disappeared on my second day because someone came and took it from the bay. I am sure it was some sort of test. I had to shape those two boards with no power tools. Bit of a nightmare, but I went for it.

I ordered some fins from Steve Mock at Island Fin Design, who did a fantastic job.

Tell us about Lux. How do people get their hands on one of your more user friendly designs, and what’s next for Perfect Designs?

LUXE is a label of personal crafts that I have been surfing every day for the past five years. They were originally made only for close friends and for my personal use.

The approach with these boards is extremely strict, and the custom options are limited. There are only three models, ranging from six to twelve feet, single fin or twin, all featuring a signature Pelican Beak nose, edge transition “petit bateau” rails, and clear lamination with a polished finish, always. 

I have received interest in commercializing them in America and am now discussing terms to make them available to order in the coming months.

It is a contemporary take on single fins, imagining what it would be like if the 'classic 70s Hawaiian style' had remained the foundation of the design. It is also a different approach to twin fins, as if the fish had never been invented.