Luigi Vitali

I’ve joined Rivista Studio as Creative Director, an Italian cultural magazine I’ve always looked up to, consistently delivering strong content and sharp points of view since 2011. Happy to flip through the first issue of this new redisgn. A new adventure for me alongside DUST, with people I love— Thanks @valentina_ardia @giuliana_matarrese and all the team. And @emanuela_amato for the precious help

Yesterday Sirât was nominated for two Oscars—Best International Feature Film and Best Sound. An incredible achievement for radical Galician director Óliver Laxe. For DUST #28, back in October, we invited him into conversation with journalist and writer Roger Salas. The two first met over 20 years ago, during Óliver’s short career as a model, when Salas cast him for the exhibition and book ‘Hombres en Falda’ (2006) (Men in Skirts), selecting him for the poster and catalogue back cover. They hadn’t seen each other since—and it was probably the last time Óliver had been involved in a fashion project. Their reunion unfolded through a long, intimate dialogue on art, poetry, landscapes and shared references. Laxe was then photographed by @danielrieraofficial and styled by @braisvilaso for the DUST cover story. The full interview is now available on Dust Words.

Murder on the Aluminum Printing Plate Editor’s Letter — “Another Fashion Magazine That Won’t Save You (But Feel Free to Try)” — DUST 28 Pt. 2

Confessions on the Aluminum Printing Plate Editor’s Letter — “Another Fashion Magazine That Won’t Save You (But Feel Free to Try)” — DUST 28 Pt. 1

Seeing SIRĀT at Cannes was one of the most visceral experiences I’ve had in a cinema. #OliverLaxe, the Spanish-Galician filmmaker, already behind Mimosas and Fire Will Come, direct movies as he opens portals. And SIRĀT—Jury Prize at Cannes, Best Direction at SEMINCI Valladolid, Silver Méliès at Sitges, and representing Spain in the Oscar race—is a confirmation of that. A work that slips between mysticism and realism, like a blade-thin passage carrying the viewer toward the most excruciating existential questions. (In its religious meaning, the title evokes the narrow bridge over Hell that Muslims believe must be crossed on the Day of Judgment to reach Paradise). The experience the film embodies is not just a confrontation with death—it looks into the void of existence and leaves you suspended in its silence. The desert becomes psyche, techno a primordial sound current, and the sacred becomes a question with no answer attached.  An experience one can only surrender to, in order to truly access it. This infinite rave turning into an inner pilgrimage with no guarantee of return is a journey only Oliver Laxe could lead. And he did so immensely. This is the only cover he appears on this season—and we are more than happy to feature him as our director of the year.  DUST ISSUE 28 – Winter 25 / Spring 26 Another Fashion Magazine That Won’t Save You (But Feel Free To Try) #oliverlaxe wearing @amiparis Photography @danielrieraofficial at @thelinkmgmt Styling @braisvilaso Grooming Paula Sánchez Montolio Thanks to @carlomengucci Pre-order on @kdpresse #dustmagazine

Billy Corgan, the mind behind The Smashing Pumpkins, is one of the most influential figures in modern music—shaping the sound and imagery of the ’90s with Siamese Dream, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, Adore, and his expansive, conceptual, experimental work. Few artists of his generation have pushed themselves—and their audience—as far. When Glenn Martens last July chose Disarm—a forever-teenage anthem—for his debut couture collection at Maison Margiela, we knew that Billy in Margiela Artisanal had to be our next cover story, especially as it coincided with the 30th anniversary of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, one of the most defining records of its era and our upbringing. For the occasion, we invited Billy to sit down with Dev Hynes—the British-American multi-instrumentalist behind Blood Orange—for a rare cross-generational conversation. From Chicago basements to London bedrooms, from MTV to Spotify, from the age of the rock band to the rise of the solitary producer, their conversation traces the shifting shape of musical authorship, vulnerability, technology, and the stubborn belief that creative authorship still matters. Full conversation and cover in DUST Issue 28. Pre-order now at @kdpresse . DUST ISSUE 28 – Winter 25 / Spring 26 Another Fashion Magazine That Won’t Save You (But Feel Free To Try) @billycorgan wearing wearing @maisonmargiela  couture by @glennmartens Photography @benjamintayl0r Styling @elliegracecumming at @streetersagency Casting @nicola.kast Make-up @kyledominicc Production @_the.curated Pre-order on @kdpresse #dustmagazine

Martin Margiela almost never gave interviews. He refused them for decades. Across more than forty years, the verifiable record is tiny: a 1983 interview later resurfaced online; a six-question Q&A answered by fax for Vogue in 1998 when he debuted at Hermès; a brief contribution to Visionaire in the late ’90s; a rare interview with the Japanese magazine So-en in 2005; and a set of answers in the 2008 Cream monograph. That’s what can be traced with certainty. From 1988—when Maison Martin Margiela was founded—until his departure in 2009, the house operated as an anonymous collective. Press materials stated that interviews and written statements were issued “in the name of the House,” not by an individual. In practice, most quotes attributed to “Martin Margiela” from those years reflect the collective voice of the Maison rather than his own. After leaving fashion, he granted only a few interviews as an artist—Art Basel, W Magazine, the Financial Times, hube, Numéro. That’s essentially it. So we are more than honoured that the new issue of DUST Magazine adds to that very limited history with a new interview: Martin Margiela in conversation with Philippe Pourhashemi, accompanied by a series of photographs Margiela took himself of his artwork. Not to be missed. Only on paper. Nowhere online. 😘

In 2000, #BillyCorgan dismantled his band—one of the last great rock bands of the century—saying he was “tired of fighting the good fight against the Britneys of the world.” It wasn’t just a band ending—it was a cultural fault line. In 2002, rock bands topped the Billboard Hot 100 for the last time. But by then, youth culture had already begun to drift elsewhere. What followed was a different kind of adolescence—less tribal, more diffused. Pop, increasingly manufactured and market-driven, became the prevailing influence. Meanwhile, basements and garages gave way to bedrooms, laptops, and cracked software; the mythology of albums gave way to MP3s, torrents, and shuffled playlists. The whole system shifted. By the mid-2000s, rock had lost, once and for all, its monopoly on cultural meaning and identity, and youth began to be shaped by other mainstream genres. Hip-hop, R&B, pop, and electronic music stepped into the foreground, offering new codes, and a different kind of intensity. Which is to say: last night, the Smashing Pumpkins show briefly brought me back to the charge of that guitar-driven sound current that once defined late 20th-century generations, before something else took hold. Being a millennial probably means, in many ways, having encountered music—consciously or not—through that fracture between counterculture as a driving force and culture as commodified narrative, and, for many, learning what that transformation meant. Sometimes, it just feels good to remember what it meant. Thanks @smashingpumpkins @billycorgan #smashingpumpkins #unaltrofestival @unaltrofestival_

“During Paris fashion week earlier this year, I found myself chatting with a big PR executive at a brand dinner. Trump’s coronation was still a fresh memory and our conversation inevitably turned that way, as it inevitably did at the time when the fashion industry was still collectively processing the trauma of the upcoming four years of doom. The thing about trauma is that the events that incur it are nonsensical. This is why trauma is so impactful; the mind has trouble satisfying its demand that things make sense, and because it can’t, it constantly returns to it. “The only thing we can do is fight back with beauty and creativity,” the PR executive pronounced. Had he said that a year earlier, I would have rolled my eyes at the affectation. Fight back with what, scissors and fabric? Slogans on t-shirts?…” Eugene Rabkin article for #DustMagazine27 Read it on Dust Words, link in bio

Last night’s Saint Laurent party—one for the books.

In a time of shifting values and uncertain directions, Dust Magazine (@dustmagazine ) founders Luca Guarini (@lucaguarini ) and Luigi Vitali (@luigi_vi ) reflect on creativity, identity, and the state of the fashion industry in 2025. From redefining influence to the importance of heritage, their vision offers a sharp and thoughtful perspective. Read the full interview on our website by clicking on the link in bio. #parisfashionweek #pfw #pfwmenswear

“Singing in the dark today isn’t about declaring a revolution or waiting for one. It’s about simply continuing to do what you do—what you’re good at—and doing it well. “ About resisting, publishing, and caring. Editor’s Letter, 3/3 In the dark times, will there also be singing? Fuck yeah! DUST ISSUE 27 – Spring/Summer 2025 Link in bio Images: @simonryr Photographed by @kito.munoz Styled by @harry_lambert for DUST 27