It’s happened. Luigi’s is officially closed. The lights are out, the taps are dry, and the last Alfredo has been served. But anyone who was there over the past weeks knows Marc and Monique didn’t let their café fade away quietly. Every farewell party was an ode to friendship, student life, and the kind of memories you don’t keep in a photo album, but in your heart (and maybe in a few blurry snaps on an old Nokia).
Monique and Marc, Luigi’s owners
VUB officially thanked Marc and Monique with a Certificate of Appreciation for their years of impact on our student community:
"With warmth, dedication and kindness you offered a listening ear, a safe haven for generations of VUB students, and unforgettable memories. Luigi’s was more than a café – it was a cornerstone of student life and a living piece of VUB history." – Rector Jan Danckaert and Vice-Rector Nadine Engels
One more for the (ex-)crew
On 16 August there’s one last party, just for all former Luigi’s staff. Thank you Marc and Monique. Thanks for the beer, the chats, the bad jokes, and the very best memories. Luigi’s will live on in the stories told at the VUB bar for many years to come.
And you, our alumni, sent us your stories. Sometimes short and sweet, sometimes big and gloriously unfiltered.
Stella Melis I Alumna
"I want to thank Marc and Monique from the bottom of my heart, not only for the great student years in the early ‘90s, but especially for last night’s farewell. What a beautiful gesture! It was a fantastic evening and it’s rekindled a few old friendships. I wish M&M many more wonderful, love-filled years."
Thomas Schoenmakers I Alumnus
"Telling one story about Luigi’s is tricky. Especially when you spent as much time there as I did. It was my living room, kitchen, toilet and bedroom – it was my home, my ecosystem. And make no mistake: when I look back at that time in my life, I can only describe it as completely disreputable. But the good kind of disreputable, if that makes sense.
We – the barflies, friends, degenerates – lived out the camaraderie and tales of the ‘misfortunates of life’ squared, minus the bailiffs and crushing misery. Over the years, our livers recovered, we bought expensive mattresses, and we embraced the rot of middle-class life.
Now I sometimes pass that epic façade and think of when we were there at dawn, heaving into the gutter like rocks in a river of commuters who gave us a wide berth. Or I imagine Monique in the kitchen, busy with an anti-hangover breakfast. As the bacon spits, she’s grumbling at the early shift that ‘the café wasn’t tidied properly, you know’. No insider would be surprised. Those chasing world titles sometimes lost themselves. And Marc liked to win. So did we all. We clung to the bar until our brainstems froze, discovered an extra valve in our oesophagus during keg battles, and begged Lady Luck for mercy in endless games of higher-or-lower. All of us now live on in an infinite card index full of beer mats.
On a good night the sweat, lust and nicotine dripped from the walls. Many a mother got a taste of it when opening a suitcase full of laundry. And if you told her you’d met men whose urine seemed immune to gravity, and women with more stamps on their bodies than a blue card at the end of the month, she wouldn’t believe you. Why would she? She wasn’t part of the ecosystem. But everyone who was knows exactly what I’m talking about. And treasures it. Because a place like Luigi’s will never come again.
Thank you Marc and Monique!"
