A few days in Slovenia's Soča Valley, one roll of film, and a crew that's more family than team.
There are huge festivals with giant screens and wristbands you top up through an app. And then there's Punk Rock Holiday: a small festival tucked away in the mountains of Slovenia, where the river is so clear it looks fake and every morning you wake up thinking the same thing: "Are we really here?"
This year the crew was Peter, Alan, Fran, Nil and Viktor. We brought socks to sell, an analog camera to keep the memories, and zero intention of sleeping much.
When we developed the film, we noticed something: there are barely any socks in the photos. There's us. And that's the story we want to tell.
🏔️ Arriving and running out of words
The first shot on the roll is the classic group photo: everyone in a row, sunglasses on, arms over shoulders, and green mountains that don't fit in the frame. We took three, because in the first one someone was waving, in the second someone was throwing peace signs, and by the third there was no way we were keeping a straight face.
None of them came out perfect. All three are our favorites.
🍳 The most punk kitchen in Slovenia
A flight case covered in stickers, a camping stove, a frying pan that has seen things, and a stack of pallets for a table. That was our backstage.
Nil took over the kitchen from day one, wearing the shirt that sums it all up: 2011 ✓, 2012 ✓… year after year ticked off, ending with "WANT MORE!!!". Eggs, moka-pot coffee, cold cuts, mayo in a tube and whatever was left in the cardboard box.
One night Nil made burgers. The next morning a paper plate showed up leaning against the box: "Thanks for the burgers ♥ — Peter + Viktor". That's pretty much all you need to know about how this crew works.
💪 Improvised gym
Who needs a gym when you've got crowd barriers? Fran turned every metal fence into a pull-up bar. Barefoot, in shorts, with an audience: one guy watching, another sitting behind the fence with a "seriously?" face. Yes, seriously.
🌊 The river that fixes everything
If you ever go to Punk Rock Holiday, there's an unwritten rule: hangovers get cured in the river. The Soča is ice cold and a shade of turquoise we'd never seen before. People on inflatables, on paddleboards, lying on the stones… and us, waist-deep in the water, in no hurry to get out.
🎧 Where the party's at
When the last band on the main stage finishes, Punk Rock Holiday doesn't go to bed. It just changes address.
First there's the silent disco: a crowd in headphones, singing at the top of their lungs to songs nobody outside can hear, switching channels mid-chorus. From the outside it looks ridiculous. From the inside it's one of the best parties of the week.
Then there are the parties in the woods, the kind you find by following the music through the trees. You're never quite sure who's running them, but you're always sure you'll stay until the end.
And then there's Tropicana, where we played the official American Socks DJ set. A room full of friends, bands and people we'd met that same afternoon, all jumping to our songs: one of those moments we'll be talking about until next summer.
🌙 What happens at night (and what's left in the morning)
Midnight flash photos always turn out the same: blown-out faces, black background, and nobody remembers who took it. Three of us sitting on a pile of logs, in the crew shirt, looking like we're not ready to head back to the tent yet.
The next-morning photos say it all without saying anything: an empty bottle on a tree stump, cans scattered around the tent, a folding chair that has seen too much, and a towel drying on the fence. Festival campsite scenes we wouldn't swap for any hotel.
🪩 The disco ball
In the middle of the festival grounds, hanging between the trees and a white building, there's a giant disco ball. Underneath it, always: people with enormous beer jugs, staff passes around their necks, and the smile of someone who hasn't looked at their phone in three days.
That's where we took the photo with friends from other brands and bands. Because that's what this is about: a small scene where everyone knows each other, helps each other out, and meets up again every summer.
🚐 Back on the road
The last photo on the roll was taken through the van window: one of us waiting by the roadside, a palm tree behind him and the sun beating down. The end of the trip, even if we didn't know it yet.
Why we're telling you this
At American Socks we make socks, but this is what really drives us: traveling, setting up the stand, cooking for friends, jumping into an ice-cold river, and coming home with a roll of film full of moments nobody planned.
We're a group of friends doing what we love. And if you ever run into us at a festival, come say hi. There'll probably be burgers.
2026 ✓. 2027… WANT MORE!!!
