GIARO GIARRATANA IS BUILDING A WORLD THAT SHOULDN’T EXIST ANYMORE Vanity Teen 虚荣青年

GIARO GIARRATANA IS BUILDING A WORLD THAT SHOULDN’T EXIST ANYMORE GIARO GIARRATANA IS BUILDING A WORLD THAT SHOULDN’T EXIST ANYMORE Vanity Teen 虚荣青年

For our second June digital cover, released during Paris Fashion Week, we step inside the universe of Giaro Giarratana — a place where nostalgia feels rebellious, mystery still matters, and beauty lives somewhere between a forgotten Mediterranean summer and a cigarette left burning at 4AM.

Model, creative director, founder and curator of atmospheres, Giarratana has spent the past years constructing a visual language that resists the speed of contemporary culture. Through projects such as GIOMI, 90s Cigarettes and the upcoming Villa Giomi, he isn’t simply creating brands; he is preserving emotions, memories and human connections in an era increasingly dominated by algorithms, hyper-visibility and disposable trends.

His references belong to another time: analog photography, European cinema, imperfect moments, real conversations and the seductive power of things left unexplained. Yet his work never feels nostalgic for nostalgia’s sake. Instead, it imagines a future built from fragments of the past — one where luxury means silence, community and the freedom to disappear from the noise.

In a culture obsessed with explaining everything, Giaro Giarratana remains committed to the opposite: creating worlds that are meant to be felt before they are understood.

Before we talk about your work, who are you when no one is watching — and what part of you do you think would surprise people the most if they met you outside of your world of images, projects and atmospheres?

I think I am probably a bit more nerdy and goofy when no one is watching. People might have the misconception of me being quite serious and even though I do have that side where I love to have deep talks and discuss literally anything, I also love being a bit silly and tease everyone around me.

Your projects feel less like brands and more like fragments of a parallel world — somewhere between a forgotten Mediterranean hotel, a fashion archive and a cigarette left burning at 4AM. When did you realize you were building an atmosphere rather than simply products?

I am not sure if it was a realization more than just a natural occurrence of expressing what I like and it then turning into more of a feeling rather than selling a product. Everything I do comes from a passion for a certain lifestyle, beauty and emotion.

There’s something deeply pre-social-media about the imagery around GIOMI and 90s Cigarettes — intimacy, mystery, imperfection. Do you think nostalgia today is becoming a form of rebellion against hyper-visibility?

I do think nostalgia can be a form of rebellion. Let’s be honest, we are changing in a way that I don’t fully align with. We constantly follow trends and get fed by an algorithm that is simply taking away every form of connection. Going back to the old days through the images we create — many of them shot on film — can definitely be seen as a form of rebellion against the changes we are witnessing in the online world.

Villa Giomi suggests a very particular idea of luxury: silence, texture, time, light. What does luxury actually mean to you in 2026?

Villa Giomi is going to be so beautiful because it will help bring people together, which is the real luxury we should strive for in my eyes. Combined with the tranquility of nature while still being close to a place as beautiful as Taormina, that is exactly what luxury means to me: being able to retreat from the chaos into tranquility.

Your universe feels cinematic, but not in a polished way — more like a lost European film discovered in an old hotel drawer. Which directors, photographers or cultural moments shaped your visual language the most?

I find that so hard to say. I think it is partly because I grew up in the ’90s and those visuals have always appealed to me far more than what we create today. I simply try to produce what feels right and, because it is so close to me, it naturally turns into a coherent visual language. Of course, there are films, artists and photographers that inspire me. Some movies whose visuals have had an impact on me are Cinema Paradiso, La Piscine, La Haine, Fallen Angels, Mid90s, The Place Beyond the Pines, Betty Blue and Chungking Express.

Many contemporary brands desperately try to explain themselves. Your projects seem to do the opposite — they seduce through ambiguity. Is mystery something you consciously protect?

I feel like over-explaining takes away the magic of what we are doing. It is not just the product that you are buying — you are purchasing a feeling as well, and mystery is definitely part of that feeling.

There’s a tension in your work between decay and beauty, glamour and emptiness, nostalgia and futurism. Are you documenting a disappearing world or inventing a new one?

I never really thought about it that way, to be honest. Maybe it is a mix of both — using the old while combining it with the new.

You briefly passed through mainstream Italian television — which almost feels surreal compared to the universe you’ve built since. Looking back, does that experience feel like an accidental cameo in somebody else’s movie?

Funny that you ask it that way because I have always said it feels like another life — almost like a dream. At the time it already felt a little out of character, but also somehow not. I am someone who likes to step into situations where I feel uncomfortable, and that was exactly one of those moments. A very spontaneous chapter of my life.

‘90s Cigarettes’ feels less like a name and more like an emotional memory. If you had to describe the smell, sound and emotional temperature of that world, what would they be?

The smell of burning rubber, tobacco and tequila — but in a sweet, beautiful way. I can’t really explain it, but I can almost smell it.

Your projects seem deeply connected to people — friends, muses, collaborators, fleeting encounters. How important is human chemistry in your creative process compared to aesthetics themselves?

It is probably the most important thing. Even when I shoot content with models, I always try to create as much connection as possible. It is essential to feel that connection in order to create something that feels real and beautiful. It is also what makes me love what I do the most.

If you could write a letter to your future self and hide it somewhere inside Villa Giomi for the next twenty years, what would you hope that version of you has not forgotten?

Be kind, make real connections, live spontaneously, don’t follow the money and never place it above doing what makes you happy. Understand that everything in life comes with balance.