Je m’appelle Magdalena, j’aime le blanc et la lumière dorée, la poésie, la méditerranée, les femmes, l’aventure, la vie bohème et le style rétro.
From time to time I let myself be seduced, almost pretending that I no longer want this, by a place, an event, a city.
Timișoara (Romania) didn’t need any magic to completely engulf me in just a few days. That’s also because when I’m facing the map of Romania, on the left, next to my heart is the Banat. That of my grandmother and my mother.
I think I entered the gallery because the light inside had the reflections of snow white. Or maybe something of white silk, freshly spun. Antique white. Maison Magdalena.
I didn’t have too much time to explore, it was closing time. Objects unwanted by visitors were packed carefully, almost with love, addresses and phone numbers were exchanged, destined to remain only some promises on the eve of the holidays.
Or maybe not.
Je m’appelle Magdalena
I found out her name later, but if she had told me then I would have taken her word she is Parisian. Magdalena was „local” and she wasn’t. Air has no color and white is not a color. That’s how I learned. The pearly whiteness of Magdalena’s stand could be seen and felt. I dressed myself in a piece of it. I looked in the mirror and couldn’t part with the firm contours of Mediterranean wave foam silk. You say it doesn’t go “firm” with “wave foam”?
Follow me a little.
I started looking for Maison Magdalena creations. Instagram and Facebook. If not here, where, if not them, who. I looked carefully at the photos. Or rather intrigued to rediscover how naturally and elegantly femininity unfolds.
I saw not how her models pose, but mostly what they pose. Their attitude and eyes carry Magdalena’s creations, more than their bodies. Balance over fragility, fluid with all the force it can throw into the universe, full texture in an incredibly smooth flow from the shoulders to the ground.
It’s as if she always wants to reconcile two worlds. Out, in. Essence, ephemeral. But they look so good together. You don’t notice the joints, you look at the finished product. A whole that doesn’t seem to have ever needed to be built part by part. Only his creator knows the struggle.
Timisoara-Toulouse-Copenhagen
I am thinking if I should also write about (Maison) Magdalena in somewhat more pragmatic terms. Studies, experiences, presentations, collaborations, things like that. And I also think not. They can be found everywhere. What I saw and felt is only for me, just as Magdalena’s are the layers of depth, the quests, the boldness and perhaps the doubts, the delicacy and the strength caught in everything she reveals.
I know little about the route she took between the three cities I mentioned in the subtitle. I discovered more about what dreams she had for each destination. For every intersection she stopped at. Fashion design, textile design, visual arts.
Through constant self-exploration she has found her and only her reasons for making one choice or another and is inspired by her vibrant life trajectory, her depth and sensitivity, her moments of transformation, her constant emotional struggle to reconciles two by two opposite worlds of whichshe is inevitably a part.
The creations of Maison Magdalena are the prerogative of the victorious woman, who, between strength and apparent fragility, finds the balance to live freely in the world full of controversy.
