The Wonderful World of Plastikcomb Magazine

In a world numbed by endless scrolling, templated aesthetics, and soul-sucking algorithms, Plastikcomb Magazine cuts through the noise. It's messy. It's weird. And it's meticulously intentional. Founded by Aaron Beebe, PCM is both a printed magazine and a love letter to the analog underground, where collage, chaos, and cultural commentary collide.

We recently sat down to discuss the origins of PCM, design rebellion, and how to create something that truly matters in a world of digital clutter.

Here is our interview with Aaron, the founder of PCM.

Let's start with the obvious. In your own words, what is Plastikcomb Magazine? Why was it created, and where is it headed?

Plastikcomb Magazine (PCM) was born out of those days when I’d wander into a local bookstore and head straight for the magazine section to grab the latest issue of Raygun. I was obsessed with its wild, rule-breaking design—it completely redefined what a magazine could look like. Sometimes it was nearly impossible to read, but that was part of the magic. Every turn of the page pulled me in even more. 

Back in 2013, I had this random idea to create a publication inspired by Raygun—but instead of music, it would shine a light on art. The idea sat on the shelf for a while, though. It wasn’t until 2020, after I’d retired from the Coast Guard and found myself in pandemic isolation like everyone else, that I thought, Why not now? There really was no better time to finally bring it to life.

Now, five years later, Plastikcomb is still growing and finding its audience. With every issue, the community around it gets a little bigger, a little more connected. My hope moving forward is to collaborate with more like-minded brands and creatives to keep expanding our reach. It’s not about chasing notoriety—it’s about building real connections through art and design.

So, you use the term "old new" in relation to the design of Plastikcomb Magazine. Can you explain how you chose that, and when you realized that was what you were creating?

The term actually came from {ths}, our co-founder. From day one, we knew we were making something totally our own. It all came from our shared love of ’90s design—that raw, messy, anything-goes creativity that really shaped us as artists. With the publication, we wanted to take that rebellious vibe and give it a new spin, turning it into something fresh and unexpected for right now.

We love a self-made story. Aaron, you admit you weren't able to get a traditional design job, so you had to create one and give yourself the title of Art Director. How long did it take to build up the courage to do that?

Haha, yeah, I’ve always had a love for art. I actually got into SCAD but couldn’t afford it, and I wasn’t able to get a student loan either. I ended up going to a local design school for a semester before dropping out because school just wasn’t really my thing. Over the years, I applied to art shows, magazines, and agency jobs, but kept getting turned down since I really had no training or experience. After retiring from the military, I decided to start my own thing and make myself the Art Director of a magazine. I figured if I failed, at least I’d be doing something I loved. To this day, I still don’t totally know what I’m doing, ha!

The co-founder of Plastikcomb, Thomas Schostok {ths}, also provides support for the magazine. Can you tell us more about that partnership and how it started?

He’s been such a huge support—honestly, there wouldn’t be a magazine without him, ha! Back in early 2020, before I started PCM, I did a small project with collage artists called {th}ink. Before it was published, I came across an artist I hadn’t heard of before who went by the name {ths}. Since the title of my book was so close to his name, I reached out to ask if it was okay to spell it that way. While waiting for his reply, I started looking through his work and instantly fell in love with it. He turned out to be a collage artist too, so I asked if he’d like to submit a piece for the publication. He was super kind and said yes to both the title and the submission.

The idea behind {th}ink was that the title and artist’s name would be designed to match the vibe of each collage—so every layout felt like its own little piece of art. That idea kind of sparked the whole concept for the magazine. I wanted the design of the interviews to play off the artwork in the same way. I’d seen that {ths} had done some editorial design before, in the exact style I had in mind, so I asked if he’d want to help with a few of the features. He said, “Sure, I’m game,” and before I knew it, he’d designed half of PCM 1.0. And, well… the rest is history.

Do you have other contributors, and how have they contributed to the magazine?

A few of our contributors have become permanent members of the crew. Teri Henderson started out doing interviews and now writes articles. Harrison Cook is another contributing writer who’s also jumped in to help with SEO and social media—his support has been a huge help. My good friend Paul Drohan recently joined as a Staff Designer, and I’m really grateful to have his design experience on the team. Every issue also features guest designers, some of whom have collaborated with us multiple times. We’ve had the pleasure of working with some incredible designers, including Chris Bigg, who collaborated with Vaughan Oliver, Bill Douglas from COUPE magazine, Chris Brown from Refueled magazine, Jeff Keedy, and Bob Aufuldish, Dado Queiroz, and Max-o-matic to name a few.



From left to right: Terri Henderson, Harrison Cook, and Paul Drohan


Let's talk Magazines/publishing for a moment. The publishing industry isn't exactly thriving. What motivated you to start a print magazine, and what are you doing with PCM to evolve the medium and challenge both yourselves and your readers?

I started the magazine because I’ve always loved print and how it feels in your hands. There’s just something about holding something physical that you don’t get from staring at a screen. I feel like when everything’s digital, we miss out on that real, human connection. With the magazine, I wanted people to see things differently, to actually interact with the print, the layouts, and the whole experience — not just read the content.





The visual style of the magazine is striking. I think our readers - fans of reclaiming, reusing, and rethinking - would ask, Where do you get your images for the collage work, and what is your process for collecting, storing, and referencing them while you're designing?

Thanks for the kind words! Most of our collage images come from found stuff—old magazines, books, flyers, whatever catches the eye. I’ve got both physical and digital collections going, and when I’m designing, it’s really just about playing around and seeing what clicks. Each layout kind of becomes a conversation between the images, the text, and the page.

Visually, we’ve also got this ongoing photo collaboration between me and {ths}—well, mostly Thomas—called Punk Food. It actually started from an old Instagram post of his: an overhead shot of a Styrofoam food tray with meatloaf, lumpy mashed potatoes, and these sad, waterlogged peas and carrots, all tinted this beautiful purple. I asked him what it was, and he just said, “Punk Food.” From then on, I told him we had to put overhead food shots in every issue. They started popping up in PCM 2, and now we’re even planning to make a whole book dedicated to those perfectly mundane food photos.

This leads into the creative process. Your deconstructed image and typography style walk the line between design and art. Can you describe your approach to the creative process? Do you have an editing process, and if so, what does that look like?

For the most part, we just let the featured artwork and interview answers guide the design—it takes on a life of its own from there. Things either fall into place… or right off the page, well, sorta, ha!

In your process, do you have any favorite tools, like notebooks, or other analog tools besides digital tools like computers and scanners?

I like to keep a notebook to track different parts of each issue, and I use bits of ephemera and cut-up printouts of text as layers in the editorial design.

PCM showcases a wide variety of artists. How do you find and choose who to cover?

Until now, it’s mostly just been me and {ths} discovering artists on Instagram and sharing them with each other. We have pretty similar tastes, and we try to keep things diverse—different mediums, backgrounds, and styles. Recently, we opened the magazine up to submissions since our social media reach can only go so far, and there are so many amazing artists out there to discover.

In today's world of shameless self-promotion, endless social media feeds, and mostly temporary content, what advice would you give to people who want to do good work that stands out, truly makes an impact, and leaves a lasting impression?

I keep coming back to things that have been said a million times before—but they’re so true. These days, we’re all so used to instant gratification, but the reality is, it takes time and effort to get good at something. Even once you’ve been doing it for years, you’re still learning and figuring things out.

Ask for feedback, try new things, and keep pushing yourself to grow. One thing I always tell people is—don’t be afraid to ask. The worst that can happen is someone doesn’t respond or says no, but at least you put yourself out there.

Collaborating is another great way to grow your work or your brand. It’s opened a lot of doors for Plastikcomb—we’ve been lucky enough to work with Junya Watanabe and Comme des Garçons, Eye Magazine, Rudy VanderLans from Emigre, Dan Aykroyd, Robert Pollard from Guided By Voices, and now Resketch notebooks!

Your passion is what keeps the momentum going.

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If you want to know more about Plastikcomb, check out their site, follow them on Instagram, and check out our notebook collaboration here.