PARKER VAN NOORD is wearing the Gio no.001. He lives in Amsterdam, Netherlands.

What takes you to cloud 9?
Joe Colombo, Haruki Murakami, the Kimchi of my friend Aldo, good tomato compote mixed with cucumber and goat cheese, my little brother Korneel, the right Levi 501 fit: it has to be a wide fit(!!), Townes van Zandt, the meal my friend Joris prepares after a cold dip, Brigitte Bardot in Le Mepris, doing something (semi) mischievous, Hope Sandoval who is the lead singer of Mazzy Star, Josef Albers, Christopher Nolan, Jean Luc Goddard, Orchestra Baobab, sexual tension from someone who tries to be innocent, Peru, some clouds hanging far away, old white t-shirts in nice fabric worn together with some cool boots and a fast car, my childhood memories, the painting hanging above my bed, and shit don’t forget Sixto Rodriguez.

What do you see outside your window?
I am in the city right now and everyone’s at home of course. The street I’m on is narrow and it gives me that ‘Rear Window’ feeling.

What makes you feel nostalgic?
Driving home to my mom in the summertime. Once you turn away from the highway, the road accompanies you with running horses and always makes me think of my days as a kid. I would always get up to something bad and have so much fun.

Do you have a soundtrack to your life?
‘Diary of a Young Man’ by Television Personalities. Although I can never grasp a single lyric, the rhythm is so good.

What is good design?
Something that you can look at for a long time. It sure doesn’t have to be pretty.

Where do you find good design?
Anywhere, and anyone can.

What does your house sound like?
My floor is old and the wood cracks weird sounds, though I kind of like that. Otherwise, I am always listening to music; I’m having a big and long lasting Townes van Zandt moment going on.

The best arthouse film(s)?
8 1/2 by Fellini, and Elevator to the Gallows. Does Stanley Kubrick’s 2001; A Space Odyssey count as an arthouse?

What do you collect?
Old cars, tape records for old cars, Joe Colombo pieces, little/scattered bits of my dad, Wim Wenders books, Levi jeans, memorabilia, and pages that I write from the places that I’ve been.

What was the first piece of cultural work that really mattered to you?
My mom did this project on freedom and it was mostly based on the geographical movement of breath linked to people living in a psychiatric institution. See, as they’re not able to travel places like most people can, she illustrated the process by tying their breath to a cloud, which then can travel to different places. The cloud would bring something like a familiar atmosphere from the psychiatric institution where the patients actually felt safe traveling outside of their barriers.

What is still a mystery?
I always like to think that everything is a mystery. When I try to lose my grip on the definition, the most mystic feeling comes over me but it is always a warm feeling because I am no longer trying to make sense. Right there I feel like I need nothing. It gets me thinking: what is quite the opposite of mystery? What if it’s definition? I feel definition is the biggest obsession for humans, and that sucks because definition feels so relative and limited. Maybe things would be much more smooth if we weren’t trying to define so much.

What do you still wish to learn?
Do away with guilt ridden feelings.

Where is happiness found?
The super 8 scenes in Paris, Texas.

What is dear to your heart?
My memories. Here is one that although you’re probably not waiting for it, is very extensive. My family tensions around holidays always build up so high. Our car was old and we travelled far. This one summer my parents broke down and my father turned the car off. As they went outside and started their fight I heard my mom's favorite song play on the radio. I quickly poked the volume on MAX and my parents ushered us to come outside. We started dancing and right there their struggle was solved. The song was Crazy by Gnarls Barkley and it always makes me smile to think of my parents like that. They loved each other so much.