I was brought up in a religious family in Buenos Aires. Every Sunday, I’d go to church with my grandma. This picture (below center) was taken at my first communion, in 1982. I’d never worn a tie before; I think I had on velvet trousers. Even at age 10, I was opinionated about how my family dressed, saying things like, “Maybe you should wear that with a jacket.” I also paid attention to what the statues were wearing, the textures of their garments and the expressions on their faces. That’s where my fascination with religious iconography came from. In my apartment in Paris, I have a collection of pieces that belonged to churches (below bottom left). I found these [relics] in the basement of a little store in Puglia, Italy, and was like, “OK, this I need.” I like the mystery of things that have had a life before me.
This is the dining room in my apartment (above right). The 1970s Brutalist table is by the American designer Paul Evans. The mirrored light on the ceiling is by [the Italian designer] Gaetano Sciolari, also from the 1970s. I found the letters “R” and “Y” at a flea market in Paris. They were part of a set that spelled “Harmony,” but that was too long — and my partner’s name is Ryan [Benacer, a stylist and fashion archivist]. In my living room, I have a collection of mannequins that I dress with the latest finds for our [clothing] archive. Ryan and I like to put out three to four at a time so that when we’re having breakfast, I can see, say, a Martin Margiela look next to me. This is a Comme des Garçons look (above top left) from spring 2023; I love how [the designer Rei Kawakubo] combines fashion and art without fear.
As a teenager, I was a goth. I loved the Cure, and then I became obsessed with [the Australian dark-wave band] Dead Can Dance (above right). When I first started thinking about a career, fashion felt odd for a guy, and I was still discovering my sexuality. I studied architecture at the University of Buenos Aires. When I turned 21, though, I went to London, where my passion for clothing really solidified. I worked as a bartender and saved money in a sock for four years, and eventually enrolled at Central Saint Martins. This is a look from my 2002 graduation collection (above center), which was inspired by traditional gaucho clothing (above left). My grandmother had a lot of ponchos that I was interested in; I tried to bring in as much craft as possible, to do it the way the Indigenous Argentines would have done. I won the prize that year for best ready-to-wear collection and was offered a place in the master’s program. But then Phoebe Philo, who’d just taken over at Chloé, called me to be her right hand for design, and I moved to Paris for the job.
Starting at Moschino was like jumping into a pool of cold water. When I was approached in December 2023, they were like, “Can you start tomorrow?” But I’d already planned a holiday in Argentina. I said, “Maybe spending time in the Moschino archive could be enough of a trigger for me to do it. Let’s go there tomorrow so that I can give you a brief, and then when I come back in January, let’s see how it goes.” [Making this collection for fall 2024] felt very spontaneous, and I was super happy with it. This dress (above center) [incorporates] an artwork by [the brand’s founder] Franco [Moschino] (above left). What I’m learning at Moschino is that I can reproduce any object as an accessory. I wanted the model who opened the show to feel like a woman who does things like go to the market for fresh vegetables and bread, so we created three items: a handbag made from a fiber that looks like paper, a baguette bag and this celery bag (above right).
This interview has been edited and condensed.
