Girls and boys of the Paninaro subculture: embracing art and pleasure!

Cherished by the Pet Shop Boys, the paninari subculture embraced opulent fashion, indulged in fast food, and shared a love for pop music. Yet, some members explored far-right ideologies. Now in their middle years, past scenesters shed light on the fascination of this captivating movement.

In a northern Italian town called Foglizzo, a dozen men, dressed in vibrant attire and riding motorbikes, gather at a snack bar on a warm June afternoon. These individuals constitute the paninari gang, a quintessentially Italian youth subculture that once held sway.

Now in their 50s, these former paninari, reminiscent of those seen at the town’s annual courgette festival, uphold their unique style. Despite showing signs of aging, they maintain their sharp appearance, adorned in typical paninari fashion, complete with Timberland boots, cowboy-style belts, and flashy sunglasses.

During the 1980s, the paninari movement thrived, characterized by a fusion of high-end fashion and rustic elements, coupled with a fondness for flaunting luxury brands. This trend marked the era and positioned them in competition with other youth groups like punks and metalheads. Yet, the paninari’s popularity surpassed both, a fact affirmed by many Italians above 45. Despite producing acclaimed literature, films, and comics in the ’80s, the movement swiftly declined, drifting away from the mainstream by the early 1990s.

Nevertheless, a committed group of paninari remained steadfast, keeping the subculture alive over the years. Recently, their passion has experienced a resurgence, garnering renewed attention online.

Known for their rebellious streak, the paninari defied Italian culinary norms by relishing hamburgers. Among their iconic haunts, the Burghy fast-food outlet in Milan held a special place. While Italy boasted a rich bel canto tradition, these rebels shifted their musical allegiance to Anglo-American pop icons like Duran Duran. The band’s song “Wild Boys,” sometimes Italianized as “uah-boee,” became their unofficial anthem. Other cherished artists included Culture Club, Cindy Lauper, Wham!, Madonna, and Michael Jackson. Additionally, the Italo disco genre, crafted by Italian musicians like Gazebo and Den Harrow, merged melodious Italian pop with synthesizers, often with artists posing as Americans and singing in English despite hailing from places like Milano.

Within the paninari realm, Verdoia emerges as a minor celebrity, overseeing an online community and directing two films dedicated to paninari. Each year, he organizes gatherings attended by prominent figures from the ’80s, along with numerous informal meetings like the one in Foglizzo.

According to writer Paolo Morando, who penned the book ’80: The Beginning of Barbarism, the paninari subculture reflects a significant societal shift. While Italy witnessed political tensions in the 1970s, the 1980s saw a decline in political activism, reverting to a more private lifestyle. The country experienced remarkable economic growth, granting access to goods previously deemed luxuries. Paolo Morando elucidates, “People began acquiring second cars, holiday homes, and there was a substantial increase in the consumption of exotic fruits.”

Amid this context, the paninari emerged as a symbol of the times, a culture associated with success and fashionable individuals deemed affluent and triumphant. Originating in Milan’s prosperous city center, particularly around the Il Panino snack bar, the paninari scene initially catered to the wealthy. However, with time, middle-class youth also joined, even if it stretched their budgets.

Sporting a distinct look, paninari fashion could be quite costly, with outfits reaching up to a million lire, a considerable sum for youngsters reliant on parental support. Giampiero Trolio, a 54-year-old paninaro and a computer engineer by profession, reveals the standard ensemble often included copious hair gel, flashy sunglasses, high-waisted jeans, and diamond-patterned socks – the latter being a true paninari trademark. As they congregate, a small audience observes them alongside a collection of bikes and scooters – all ’80s models like Yamaha, Ducati, and Garelli – parked outside.

While the paninari subculture is often linked to right-wing ideologies, Verdoia explains it as a more intricate scenario. Initially associated with the San Babilini, a group of young fascists congregating near Milan’s Il Panino bar in Piazza San Babila, the movement gradually distanced itself from political affiliations, veering toward apoliticism. Verdoia emphasizes that while a few members held right-wing views and were associated with the Youth Front, the youth wing of the defunct neo-fascist party Social Movement, most paninari had no political inclinations. Their main focus was enjoying life’s pleasures, leading some to label them as superficial.

Around 1983, the paninari became a widespread phenomenon, embodying the epitome of Italian youth culture. They faced mockery, including a popular skit on national television, but also had their own magazines and even a literary genre. One notable example was the novel “I Will Marry Simon Le Bon” by teenager Clizia Gurrado, which became a bestseller and was adapted into a movie, although the marriage with the Duran Duran frontman never transpired.

The British band Pet Shop Boys took an interest in the paninari during their visit to Milan to promote their debut album “Please.” They subsequently released the song “Paninaro” as the B-side of their single “Suburbia,” with lyrics encapsulating the paninari’s ideology of pleasure, cars, and fashion: “What I do like, I love passionately.” Although not particularly adored by the paninari, the band earned admiration for their fashion sense.

As the 1990s brought stagnation to Italy, the paninari’s hedonistic lifestyle fell out of favor, yet some enthusiasts, like Enrico from the small town of Pinerolo in northwest Italy, continued to embrace their iconic music and fashion, ensuring the persistence of the panin

ari aesthetic.

Ironically, despite embracing foreign influences, the paninari now yearn nostalgically for an era when the world felt smaller, before globalization’s grip tightened. Verdoia explains that the paninaro’s mindset longs for an Italy of yesteryears, a time steeped in traditional customs, where “made in Italy” clothes were genuinely Italian-made. Contrastingly, with globalization’s onset, production has shifted and decentralized.

Interjecting, Troilo, the computer engineer, clarifies that he isn’t entirely against modernity, admitting to using Facebook on his smartphone. However, he concedes that with the rise of the internet and globalization, something has been lost. Even his Timberland shoes, once proudly labeled as “made in the USA,” have seen a decline in quality, with Troilo lamenting that even the scent was better in the past.

As dusk falls, the paninari gathering disperses, with many needing to return to their families. Before bidding farewell, Verdoia, who named his daughter Clizia after the author of the Simon Le Bon book, reflects on their prime. He remarks that looking back at pictures from that era, they seemed vivacious and colorful, always reveling in festivities. In contrast, he observes today’s youth spending most of their time online, expressing hope that they may draw inspiration from the vibrant past of the paninari.