Inside Chris Kontos' Wardrobe

The Kennedy magazine editor calls in from Athens.

There are plenty of undeniably tasteful small magazines at the moment, but when you actually look inside them, few read like Kennedy. For one, there’s the publication’s unflinching honesty: Editor Chris Kontos’ introduction to 2023’s Family issue, for example, was all about his break-up with his wife. It discussed the medication he was using to cope with his panic attacks, how it felt to be seeing his young son Atlas less, and his hope for marital reconciliation. (The couple are now back together.) Introducing 2021’s New York issue, Kontos wrote that “After more than 12 months of depression, and lack of inspiration… I am cruising, currently, right now!” Other issues contain far happier life updates, I should note, but every instalment unfailingly meets the Athens-based Kontos exactly where he is.

The other reason Kennedy holds weight for me is its proven record of getting there first, without particularly trying to. 2013’s launch issue featured an interview with Whit Stillman, a decade before his Metrograph retrospective. Spring 2015’s had a major feature on Husbands, years before anyone (myself definitely included) had ever heard of the Parisian tailor. The issue after that included a feature on Neighbour, the issue after that an interview with Our Legacy’s Jockum Hallin, the one after that conversations with the photographer Daniel Arnold and the composer Ryuichi Sakamoto. Again, we’re talking about 2015 and 2016 here, not 2025 and 2026.

Kontos also loves clothes, and keeps an eye out for the designers that are making them well. (He has been trusted by Popeye on multiple occasions to photograph people on the streets of Athens, for its legendary Style Sample issues.) I’ve always wanted to ask him about his wardrobe, and this week, we finally made the time. Enjoy our conversation, which of course covers his best style finds, but also the few magazines he feels are worth buying today, the fragrance he wears, Balthus’ great chalet, and his tip for coffee and antiques in Basel, Switzerland.

Hi, Chris. I’d like to start by asking whether you’ve always dressed the same way?

Mostly, but in the late nineties I went through a phase of spending all of my money on expensive clothing. A lot of my friends were working at this shop in Athens called Sotris, so I had a small discount, and when it was payday, I would always go there and buy a ton of fun stuff. Ann Demeulemeester, Prada, Miu Miu. Back then, there was this madness with technical, weird fabrics. I had a Raf Simons jacket made from a paper-like synthetic material that truly disintegrated through the years. A friend of mine had the same one, and he actually put tape over it in all the places where the material was completely gone.

Did anything from that period last?

Yes. In 1999, I bought this weird, almost shiny beige Prada bomber jacket. Even back then, twenty-seven years ago, it was massively expensive, but it’s still in perfect condition, even though I wear it often. It’s perfect in the summer, when you’re on holiday and it’s a bit breezy at night. It doesn’t get as breezy as it used to twenty-five years ago, but I always hope there’s going to be at least one evening like that each summer, just so that I can wear it.

Do you remember an early find that first got you into clothes?

When I was 13, a schoolmate of mine and I became obsessed with the Beastie Boys, who were then wearing the Adidas Samba. I ended up with maybe five colours. Then, around 17, I started listening to the Smiths and progressed to a more kind of Mod vibe. I had a shaved head, and started wearing suits, but I still kept the Adidas trainers with them. Then from there, I jumped straight to the Belgian designers and all the high fashion stuff.

How did that happen?

I had this friend who was working at the store, and he was was like, “Man, have you heard of Helmut Lang jeans? They’re the best.” I got a grey pair, and they’re still so great. Though my wife wears them now, because I’ve grown a bit bigger. Back then, I was so thin, I was almost made of smoke. I was so thin, I was transparent!