From the Sidewalk to the Gallery: How Discarded Weed Bags Became Art in “0.125oz

”French Photographer Vincent Pflieger Documents New York’s Street-Level Cannabis Aesthetic in a Striking Visual Archive

Walk through the streets of Brooklyn—Williamsburg, Bushwick, Bed-Stuy—and you’ll see them. Bright, cartoon-colored weed bags tossed on the sidewalk like candy wrappers. Some shimmer with foil finishes, others mimic cereal boxes or designer labels. They’re easy to miss, easy to dismiss. But to French photographer Vincent Pflieger, better known as Streetadelic, they’re not trash. They’re a message.

“These bags are more than litter — they’re urban artifacts,” Pflieger says. “They tell a story of a cultural transition in real time.”mk,lk

That story is the beating heart of 0.125oz, Pflieger’s new photo project, art book, and cultural magazine that documents over 1,000 mylar cannabis bags collected across New York over the past four years. It’s a deep dive into the street aesthetics of weed — and the strange space where DIY hustle meets a booming industry still finding its footing.

A Brooklyn Story Told in Mylar

Pflieger first noticed the discarded bags on his daily walks through the borough. At first, he picked one up out of curiosity. Then another. Then ten. Eventually, he built an archive of nearly 2,000 unique designs — a surreal collection of unofficial weed packaging, each one hinting at a brand, an idea, or an inside joke.

“In France, everything is regulated,” Pflieger explains. “It’s clinical. But here in New York, before licenses rolled out, you had these bursts of design happening on the street level — wildly creative, deeply unofficial, and hyperlocal.”

The project’s name, 0.125oz, refers to the average weight of a bag of cannabis flower — an eighth of an ounce — but also serves as a metaphor. Each bag represents a small dose of design, a trace of a bigger cultural wave. Together, they form a mosaic of New York in the in-between: post-legalization, pre-regulation, and pulsing with aesthetic innovation.

When Weed Becomes Iconography

The real magic of 0.125oz lies in the visuals. Pflieger’s images transform crumpled, tossed-out bags into carefully composed portraits. Each photograph is treated with reverence, as if the packaging were a rare artifact. And in a way, it is.

“Street packaging is an act of storytelling,” Pflieger says. “There’s no advertising budget. Just design that has to pop — fast, hard, and often anonymously.”

The styles range from parody (bags that riff on Sour Patch Kids or Froot Loops) to luxury (think metallic logos that channel Supreme or Louis Vuitton). Some are aggressively loud, others sly and subtle. All of them speak to a broader trend: cannabis as lifestyle, identity, and commerce.

“Each bag is a small rebellion,” says Pflieger. “And also a marker of where we are in the cannabis conversation — caught between old stigmas and new branding dreams.”

More Than A Book: A Living Archive

0.125oz isn’t just a photography project — it’s a platform. The project is now live as a limited-edition art book and companion magazine, combining Pflieger’s photography with commentary on design, urban life, and cannabis culture.

More than just celebrating weed, it raises questions: Who gets to design culture? What does it mean to be legal, official, or authentic? And what gets left behind — literally and metaphorically — as industries evolve?

An immersive exhibition is also in development, set to debut in New York’s Lower East Side in Fall 2024. Visitors can expect a full sensory experience: walls layered with bag designs, streetscapes reimagined as gallery installations, and an exploration of cannabis through the lens of both art and anthropology.

Capturing a Moment That’s Already Changing

The power of 0.125oz lies in its timing. New York’s cannabis legalization process has been famously slow, marred by bureaucratic delays and gray-market innovation. As licensed dispensaries finally open, much of the street packaging that defined the last few years will fade away — replaced by state-compliant, often bland alternatives.

Pflieger sees his work as preserving a moment that’s slipping by.

“This was a design movement that happened in the shadows, on the fly, without permission,” he says. “It deserves to be remembered — and studied — before it disappears.”

As the legal market matures and aesthetics inevitably shift, 0.125oz stands as a rare document of creativity unbound by rules. It’s about weed, yes, but also about the power of grassroots branding, the visual language of subculture, and the messy beauty of change.

Find more in our 420 print edition found here!