This story originally appeared on the Gents Cafe Newsletter. You can subscribe here.
Meet Andrea Klainguti (@andreaklainguti), a photographer and creative based in Pontresina, in the scenic Swiss region of the Engadine. Deeply influenced by his love for all things automotive and his roots in skate and snowboard subcultures, Andrea finds his creative spark in the intersection of motorsport, lifestyle, and visual storytelling.
He believes in the luxury of owning one’s time and approaching work with a spirit of independence, a philosophy that recently led him to leave a stable agency career to prioritize his craft and his family. For Andrea, style is a form of individual non-conformity and a celebration of the stories hidden behind a garment or accessory.
A true collector of lived-in narratives, he can be found either at home with his two children, driving around in a classic car or on the historic Cresta Run track sporting a vintage 80s spandex suit found on Etsy.
What are your main passions and how do you cultivate them?
I’ve had a passion for engines and motorsport since I was a kid. My father is a huge enthusiast, and he really passed that down to me by taking me to races and vintage Grand Prix events. For me, it’s never just about the car; it’s a gateway into a much larger world—design, architecture, fashion. There’s a common aesthetic thread that ties all these fields together, which you really feel at these events.
Photography is another constant. My parents both shot a lot, so I grew up with cameras and rolls of film around the house. I’m mostly self-taught; I never formally studied it. I like to think my style comes from a love for art history, cinema, and graphic design rather than just technical skill. Eventually, that passion grew until I realized I could make it my full-time career.
When I’m not shooting cars, I like to drive them. Either historic rallies or hillclimbs with the prepped Volvo PV544 that has been in the family since decades, or more relaxed drives with the Lancia Fulvia Coupe. Sometimes I get lucky and get to guest-drive other great machines at particular events.
How did you first develop an appreciation for style?
It all started with the skate and snowboard subcultures. In that world, style is deeply personal. It’s about your tricks, of course, but it’s really a form of individualism and non-conformity. I dove into it when I was about 11 or 12, and it taught me to celebrate differences. How you dressed was just the visual expression of a mindset: the idea that you don’t have to do things the way everyone else does.
In skateboarding, you admire certain personalities for their unique style, and that’s a value I want to pass on to my children: find your own path and what you personally enjoy, because that’s what actually matters. It feels like subcultures used to be much more defined: you were a punk, a hip-hop kid, or a metalhead, and it was almost like a faith you shared with your friends. Today, everything feels a bit more blended and homogenized; there’s less of that distinct cultural identity.
What does “being well-dressed” mean to you?
To me, being well-dressed is all about the story behind a garment or an accessory. I’ve always been drawn to things that have been lived in or hold a particular value for the person wearing them. I love hunting through vintage markets for those unique pieces you’d never find in a shop, the items that feel one-of-a-kind.
I’ve never had much interest in brand-new watches, for example. Anyone can go to a store and buy one, but finding a specific model from a certain year with a history of its own… that’s what sparks my interest. Whether it’s clothing or an accessory, I love the process of searching for something that eventually becomes yours alone, perhaps reminding you of a specific time or place.
A perfect, if slightly unusual, example is a piece I recently bought for the Cresta Run, the historic toboggan track in St. Moritz. It’s been around for over 150 years, and the style there is very unique. You see people in traditional knickerbockers and wool socks, others in sleek racing suits, and many things inbetween. I didn’t want a standard new suit, so I found a vintage 80s spandex suit on Etsy, made in Canada with oddly fluorescent stripes. It’s definitely unique, but unfortunately a bit too tight as of now. I hope to be able to stretch it and finally wear it on the Run soon! The atmosphere there actually reminds me of skateboarding; it has that same sense of camaraderie and “it’s your turn, go for it” energy, regardless of whether you’re 18 or 70.
Whether it’s clothing or an accessory, I love the process of searching for something that eventually becomes yours alone, perhaps reminding you of a specific time or place.
How do you define success, and what motivates you to achieve it?
Over the past few years, I’ve learned a lot about what “success” means to me personally. After years of working in agencies with good salaries and stability, I realized that what I value most right now is having more flexibility with my time. Going self-employed has given me more of that, in the sense of being able to shape my days in a way that fits my life.
I’m very aware that I was fortunate to be in a position where it was even possible to try. Self- Employment comes with its own uncertainties and responsibilities, and there are days when the lack of a safety net feels very real. But for me, the trade-off has been worth it.
Becoming a father played a huge role in this shift. It made me think more about the kind of presence I want to have in my children’s lives and how I spend my time while they’re growing up. Stepping away from a stable job when they were small was a big leap, but I feel grateful that it’s working for us.
How do you find inspiration in your work?
My inspiration comes from everywhere: films, books, magazines, art history, and even video games. But a huge part of it comes from people and the specific contrast of the life I live here. I love that I can spend my morning walking through a deserted forest and my evening at an event in St. Moritz. It’s one of the few places where you can grill a sausage with a beer for lunch and be sipping a Negroni at the Palace Hotel bar in the evening. Meeting interesting people in those different settings is what truly motivates me.
In my photography, I try to capture that “stopping moment.” I want someone to look at a photo and wonder: Who is this person? Where are they going? What is their story? I don’t always succeed, but that’s the goal—to create a visual narrative that makes people pause.
I’m also very inspired by the world of independent magazines. I used to have a subscription called Print Matters that was fantastic. Every few months, they’d send a surprise package of four magazines from around the world that you’d never normally find, anything from a Middle Eastern art journal to a publication about Scandinavian plants. Even if a magazine only lasts for two or three issues, I love that it existed. Receiving that box and discovering a perfectly art-directed magazine about a niche subject was a great way to force myself to see the world through a different lens. If a service like that still existed, I’d sign up again in a heartbeat.
If you have made a significant career change, can you describe it? What motivated that decision?
I worked in advertising for several years, and although my career as a freelance photographer started out in 2019, it was not my full-time job back then, because at the same time an opportunity came up to become a partner in a communication agency here in the Engadine. I figured, “Why not? Let’s try it.” It was a positive and instructive experience, but by the start of 2024, something shifted. I realized my priorities were elsewhere and I was missing doing creative work myself.
The decision to leave happened quite quickly, and though we remain on excellent terms, it was a clean break. Making that leap in April 2024 wasn’t easy; when I was focusing on the agency, my photography had dwindled to a tiny flame. I was constantly turning down shoots because I simply didn’t have the time.
Now, I’m finally back to a place where I can focus on my own vision and decide exactly where I want to take my work next.
Now, I’m finally back to a place where I can focus on my own vision and decide exactly where I want to take my work next.
Do you collect anything? If so, how did that passion start?
I’ve always been someone who accumulates things; if I had more space, it would probably be even worse. My collections are deeply tied to my childhood and adolescence. I hunt down old skateboards, snowboard decks, and the specific magazines and skate films I grew up with but eventually threw away . I also have a fascination with movie props and original film frames. I even collect original positive slides from amateur photographers at vintage Grand Prix events. Having the slide means you own the only copy, it’s a bit like an analog NFT.
But my biggest obsession is model cars. It started with my grandfather, who had a display case full of them that I was allowed to play with, provided I put them back, and I do the same with my son now. I also vividly remember my parents taking me to a shop in Lugano and explaining that if you keep the original box, they hold their value—not that they’re worth much today, but it started a lifelong habit. Now, I can’t return from a trip without a new model car; I even check the toy aisle when I’m out grocery shopping.
I’m particularly fond of Burago models because they were the first to make detailed metal cars that were actually affordable. I’ve recently been buying back the ones I destroyed as a kid, like a Porsche 993 Cup from the 90s with its bright yellow, blue, and red livery. I found one with its original box, exactly like the one I received for Christmas when I was eight. Most of these things end up in boxes in my cellar, but finding that specific joy again is what makes it worth it.
What’s the best gift you’ve ever received, and why did it mean so much to you?
It might be a cliché, but honestly the best gift has been our little family. We’ve now got two kids and life has been beautifully loud ever since. Watching them grow and trying to keep up with them (while we all figure things out together) is pretty unbeatable. No material gift even comes close…
What are your three favorite movies and why?
The first one has to be The Goonies. It’s the ultimate childhood film—I’ve seen it hundreds of times and know every line by heart. From the Fratelli brothers to the iconic quotes, it’s one of those movies I’ll never tire of revisiting.
Next is Porco Rosso, a Studio Ghibli masterpiece I discovered more recently. It’s a beautifully imagined fantasy set in post-war Italy, following a fighter pilot who has been transformed into a pig. The animation and the storytelling are just incredible; it’s a film that stays with you.
Finally, there’s Top Secret!, which was Val Kilmer’s debut. I first saw it during a cinema course at IED in Rome, and it’s a brilliant comedy. It constantly plays with classic filmmaking tropes and subverts them in the most unexpected ways—like a giant telephone in the foreground that turns out to actually be giant, or someone looking through a magnifying glass only for their eye to actually be that size. It’s full of surreal, hilarious moments that still make me laugh today.
What are your three favorite books and why?
The first is Education of a Wandering Man by Louis L’Amour. It’s a biography of his life in 1950s America, and he really lived through it all. It stayed with me because of its message: never stop learning, keep challenging yourself, and stay open to new experiences.
Then there is Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig. I love how it’s constructed around a motorcycle journey between a father and son. It explores the importance of quality in one’s work and the philosophical reasons behind the decisions we make. It felt very relevant to me, especially considering my own career shift a year and a half ago.
Finally, I often return to La Méditerranée en Goélette (lit. The Mediterranean in a Boat) by Georges Simenon. Before he became famous for his detective novels, he was a reporter, and this book captures his “apprenticeship” through travel notebooks. He describes a way of living in remote places—whether on an island or in the mountains like we do here—where you are dependent on nature and the seasons. It teaches a philosophy of resilience: knowing that while things might be going well now, nature is unpredictable. In a city, you’re always pushed to do more and invest more, but here, you learn to accept that life isn’t always a steady climb. It’s about staying grounded and keeping things in perspective.
Cover photo: Pietro Martelletti
