DONNA DE HARAJUKU

 

Story by Yamaia Fashiongyyrl

 

I was staring at my blank sketch pad

anxiously pacing the floor, with the

brightness of the morning sun and edgy

shadows from the high-rise buildings in

Tokyo. I was in a room filled with

colours, fine fabrics, buttons and

embellishments from all over the world.

Creativity, Uniqueness, Strength and

Vulnerability then flooded my every

thought and sense. Drawing me

towards the window so my eyes could

clearly see - and within the shadows

of the rising sun La Donna de Harajuku

summoned me.

She was the embodiment of all things:

Fashionable of the Past, yet had stability

of the Present and for the Future.

On this very morning, La Donna de

Harajuku had come to say: "Normality?

There's great Beauty and Honour in the

Mystery of Originality. Create from within.

Look beyond what you see."

"Yamaia? Your appointment is here."

I glanced quickly at my desk and

turned back to say to her "What am I?"

I stood there looking around, but the

vision of La Donna de Harajuku was

nowhere to be found.

"Yamaia?" "Yes, yes, Ofelia, send

them in." What had she meant?

I looked at my pad in sore disbelief,

and then like magic La Donna de

Harajuku was there, clothed in Colour

and sketched out in front of me!

Can you look beyond what you see?

Beauty! Strength! Originality!

 

Yamaia Fashiongyyrl, Designer

Marbella, Spain

DONNA DE KILIMANJARO

 

Story by Shivani Mair

 

The first time I met Donna de Kilimanjaro

I heard a deep drumming beat that sent

vibrations through my heart.

 

She was but a black silhouette walking

towards me, in the heat of the rising sun.

 

Her warmth radiated from her, giving her

figure a soft blur, and yet I could see her

slender figure as she took strides toward

me, she was as graceful as a puma yet

oozed the femininity of Mother Earth.

 

As she, the warrior queen, a name I later

affectionately started to call her,

approached me, a tribal chant started

and the drumming increased. The beat

of my heart now beating

in time with the drums.

 

Although she said nothing,

her eyes said

 “welcome to my home, you will be one

of us whilst you are here”.

 

Her eyes swirled with questions about

 where I had come from, what were my

 desires and my fears…but her humility

was a strength, for she asked nothing

and trusted I was there to learn about

her people, their fears and their dreams.

 

Shivani Mair, Life Coach and Presenter

London UK

DONNA DE KREMLIN

 

Story by Natasha Romanov

 

On my last visit to Moscow, my natal

city, with some of my friends I was

looking forward to a little sightseeing

showing them the city. Like any

normal tourists they also wanted to do

some shopping. So I took them to

GUM, an impressing building designed

in 1891 by Alexandr Pomerántsev.

I have been to the Red Square so

many times, but on this day my eyes

caught sight of something new.

A photo session just in the middle of

the square, and in the centre of attention,

I saw a tall blond girl, the Donna of

Kremlin. Stoic, amazingly beautiful, her

posture was as imperial as the eagles

of days gone by.

She was dressed in golden fabrics,

almost making the domes of the Saint

Basil Cathedral fade. Photographers &

make-up artists were fussing around

her. I was drawn by her charisma and

I had an urge to find out more about her.

I imagined her like a Matryoshka doll,

and wanted to open all the layers to find

the true soul of this beautiful woman.

My friends joined me, time stood still

and so did we, just looking at her.

Suddenly, the whole group stopped

working, and wrapped it all up. The

woman relaxed and got down from

her pedestal, the ivory tower ceased

to exist, and she was there, walking

towards me. In that instant I felt that

I knew her, the Donna of Kremlin, the

very essence of her life, her

childhood, her dreams, her family,

her heritage, art, culture and music.

 

Natasha Romanov, Singer

Marbella, Spain

DONNA DE MANHATTAN

 

Story by David Schlakman

 

Even in New York City, a city of sky-

scrapers, her height makes her stand

out. A full 2.0 meters tall (the result of

long, shapely legs) Donna de

Manha-ttan is noticed everywhere

she goes.  A glare from her piercing

blue eyes can be very intimidating,

especially to her opponents in the

courtroom.

 Yes, Donna de Manhattan is an

attorney who prosecutes people

who are charged with crimes

against children.

You wouldn't know it to look at her,

dressed for a night in the New York

City clubs with a blue and black

feathered wrap framing her face,

but she is relentless in her pursuit

of justice on behalf of those who

can not protect themselves.

Beautiful and smart, she's committed

her professional life to helping those

less fortunate than she is. Donna

works hard (in fact, very hard) but

she also plays hard.

Yet a long night of dancing in the

nightclubs in her name-sake city

doesn't diminish her ardor for, or her

effectiveness at, putting people

who prey on children in jail.

Tough, cool and regal on the outside,

but with a heart of gold on the inside,

Donna de Manhattan stands tall.

 

David Schlakman

Fundraising consultant to charities

Rowayton, Connecticut, United States

DONNA DE MARBELLA

 

Story by Jacqueline Campos

 

Have we met before?

I can read from the expression on your

face that we have. You might wonder

why I approach you like this, especially

considering the mysterious, glamorous,

even divine image you have always

had of me.

However, your idea of me is true, I was

born beautiful and through time I have

become one of the most beautiful of

them all. It is a virtue conceded to me

by Venus in exchange for being able

to love those around me unconditionally

and please them. Therefore, when you

look at me just as you do now I want

you to let me feel the butterflies in my

stomach as if for the first time, only like

that will I be able to disclose the reason

I was portrayed.

I would be grateful if you would let me

show you my sensuality and thereby

kiss you for your generosity.

And though they will tell you that I am

a strong and glowing woman, you will

hear me whisper that I actually long

for you every day.

I wish that you never stop looking

at me so that our intrigue never

vaporizes in the universe.

I am the Donna de Marbella

... please do not ever forget me.

 

Jacqueline Campos,

Journalist and a friend

Marbella, Spain

DONNA DE OLDENBURG

 

Story by Ilja Rep

 

Rumour has it that everyone who has

ever had the chance to take a bath in

the glorious sunshine of the Donna de

Oldenburg is touched by a profound

inspiration as well as an emotional satis-

faction. Her energy which supposedly

is always outward focused, combines

perfectly with her unique character

which appear to be mystique and

sphinx-like.

I do not believe in rumors, but this lady

intrigued me, and I had the most

profound urge to meet her and went

looking for her in her hometown.

I searched for her for what seemed

like an eternity and yet time passed

so quickly and suddenly she was there.

Just looking at her as she appeared

before my very eyes automatically

arose many questions and made me

wonder: Who is she really? What

does she want to tell me? Has she

anything to tell at all? Or does she

simply exist like the sun? But did

these questions really matter?

Sunshine is taken for granted as

nature's generous gift. By conveying

her you might conceive the true

meaning of joy and hope - as the

outcome of the inborn craving to give,

share and inspire others to embrace

their true greatness.

Her sun was shining - I was finally

taking my bath. So when you meet

the Donna de Oldenburg take your

time to really look behind the crystal

blue iris of her eyes and you will most

probably discover not only a peaceful

but also a vulnerable soul. I ask you;

please handle this beautiful creature,

the personalization of nature’s

sunshine, as carefully as it looks.

 

Ilja Rep, Writer & Coach

Cologne, Germany

DONNA DE SALZBURGO

 

Story by María Paz Hurtado

 

One more business trip, however unlike

any other Salzburg, oh you beautiful city.

In a room just in front of the opera house,

in winter, with snow covered domes, a

truly spectacular image, frigid and lovely.

After an intense day at work with

meetings after meetings, in the afternoon

I finally get to go back to my room, just

to answer what seems like a thousands

e-mails, but just before continuing my

work I have a quick look out the window

and I see the beautiful façade, the nice

little windows which inspire me to

continue my work. Our eyes only meet

briefly but I can still remember her look,

dignified and pervasive which suddenly

appeared like a thunder storm.

The invisible threads that weave

together like the sound of music cover

her frozen face like an adagio,

ascending majestically one curve after

another. Her white hair like the feathers

of a swan fades into the sky, hiding the

wings of an angel, like silver threads

trying to catch the clouds. Her body

covered with delicate lines allows me

to see her skin as through stained glass,

and as the light enters the Donna de

Salzburgo appear before me, inside

the city´s opera house, looking out at

the snow through the window.

Her silhouette seems as if embroidered

in a silk cover moving in the wind.

She drifts away, like the clouds of a

thunder storm. Behind every museum,

every opera house, every building I

feel her presence.An unforgettable

dream? or a true encounter?

Oh Bella Donna!!

 

María Paz Hurtado

President, Hutesa Agroalimentaria, S.A.

Fuente de Piedra, Spain

 

DONNA DE SILICON VALLEY

 

Story by Erik Magnethi

 

My implants were desperately trying to

calm me down, releasing tranquilizers

and unsuccessfully trying to regulate

my pulse, but even these sophisticated

gadgets were helpless against the

oldest rush of them all: Love.

Finally, after all those years of online

relationship, online love, terabytes of

digital feelings and sensory exchange,

- here we stood, face to face, in the

real world with the danger of

disappointment, the sad truth about

how we all look in the real world;

a pale shadow of the online glory we

all prefer nowadays: Cyberspace.

Lately however, no matter how much

endorphin & aphrodisiac my implants

released I did not feel the same

satisfaction anymore - something had

changed. Call me old fashioned, but

I had to meet her, the Donna de

Silicon Valley, for real, for the first time

ever. My life was changed forever,

I realized nothing could ever replace

the real life inputs anymore, attraction

developed through billions of years,

first eye contact, pheromones, secret

smells we humans had long forgotten

were still doing their powerful magic:

Love. Mutual attraction, the desire to

bond, to belong, to mate, - the only

true purpose of life, to reproduce:

Evolution. As she moved toward

me pale and slender, gracefully and

elegant, time didn't exist anymore.

I was forever lost in her piercingly

sharp blue eyes, the look into those

eyes was to teeter on the brink of an

abyss. Her pale, flawless skin seemed

to almost glow in the dim light and for

a moment I wondered if I loved her

because she was beautiful or if she

simply was beautiful because I loved

her. I closed my eyes and I still saw

the beauty and I knew forever that

only one thing mattered: Love.

 

Erik Magnethi, Engineer

Doha, Qatar

DONNA DE VALLADOLID

 

Story by Mugge Fischer

 

The first and only time I met La Donna

de Valladolid was in another century.

I was a shy but curious person, just

graduated from law school, filled with

joy and great expectations for the

future. I was sitting on a bench in a

park getting ready to light my

meerschaum pipe, when I caught the

first glimpse of her. She came walking

down an alley in the flower filled park,

with her broidered umbrella, which pro-

tected her fine skin from the burning

sun on this very hot day in July, the

5th of July to be exact. She instantly

mesmerized me with her beauty,

magnetism and her impeccable style.

Her head held high with a serene but

mysterious look in her eyes, she was

indeed a true lady. I had the sensation

that this lady had not always led an

easy and untroubled life, but I was

sure she had never lost her dignity;

undoubtedly it had been her

salvation many times.

While all these thoughts went through

my mind, she was suddenly right

beside me, looking at me with her hazel

brown eyes. For a moment I detected

a little smile, my heart started pounding,

and I could feel how I was blushing.

In this magical moment I felt my inner

dreams come true.

La Donna de Valladolid sat down beside

me on the bench. “Good afternoon Sir”.

Her voice like honey my heart melting.

This afternoon, La Donna de Valladolid

was mine at least for a moment.

We talked for a little while and then she

left, just as gracefully as she had arrived.

I never saw her again, but the memory

of her face would be with me forever.

 

Mugge Fischer, Artist

Marbella, Spain

DONNA DE VARANASI

 

Story by Marie-Louise Stenild

 

Some years ago at the Triveni Sangam

in Allahabad, I was waiting for the sun

to rise when suddenly I heard the

chatting of a female voice, strong but

yet soft and sensual. She was walking

with her head held high and holding

an urn in front of her.

When she reached the riverfront she

emptied the urn into the Ganges, and

as she turned the first sun caught her

face and I was struck by the

mesmerizing beauty of her face.

Later on in the day I was walking

around the back allies of the bazaar

and suddenly froze as in front of me

the beautiful lady from this very

morning was looking at me from an

old canvas.

The owner of the gallery, a very old

man, came out and I asked him

curiously, who is she? The “Donna de

Varanasi” he replied, “my father

painted her when I was only a little boy”.

He continued and explained that the

Donna de Varanasi was the most

beautiful woman of her time with a

very strong will and married, unheard

of at the time, out of love.

What the old man said next gave me

the goose bumps; “Some people

claims that every first day of the lunar

year the spirit of Donna

de Varanasi is seen walking towards

the Triveni Sangam, to pour the ashes

of her beloved husband into the Ganges”.

I asked the old man,

what day it is today, and he replied:

“The first day of the lunar year……”

 

Marie-Louise Stenild, Lawyer

London, United Kingdom

 

DONNA DE VENEZIA

 

Story by Mapi Galan

 

The first time I saw her was in the

hubbub of the carnival, and though

camouflaged by masks, the herd,

eye masks, wigs, serpentines, tulle

skirts, she stood out, sparkling, with

a radiating silence, she did not

vanish, she did not mimic.

She was sparkling with desolate and

overwhelming sequins sewn into a

silk costume, like a beam of light.

I was struck by the magic of the water,

 just like the city itself, she was

brimming with lushness, curved and

slim as a human gondola, perfect and

distant like a pagan goddess.

Her face was as if painted by a

renaissance master, her smile able to

compete with the smile of Mona Lisa.

I focused all my power on remembering

every little detail of this extraordinary,

magic, baroque and byzantine woman.

The Donna de Venezia seemed to

be drifting towards me and the speed

of her movements was different from

the crowd´s (converting the setting into

an oneiric connotation, like a daydream).

As she reached me I could smell her

perfume, she blinked at me. Her eyes

were a materialization of mystery and

her eyebrows resembled the necks

of two black swans.

She was as delicate as Murano glass

but strong as the Rialto Bridge.She

looked at me, she was about to say

something... but drifted away, this time

disappearing into the colorful crowd.

Since then I often ask myself if she

was just a figment of my imagination

created by the ancient energy of a

city submerged on one hand in its

own memory, on the other in

my recollections.

 

Mapi Galan, Actress

Ibiza, Spain

 

 

 

DONNA DE VERSAILLES

 

Story by Michel Soyer

 

She carries the name of a castle but

most of all, of the memories of a

remarkable King. The wetlands and

the work of the men, the incredible

talent of the genius minds of the

Baroque era, have created the

Palace envied by the entire world,

and of which she is the muse. Hidden

behind the curtains, disappearing in

the secret corridors destined for

affectionate encounters, in wrinkled

alpaca fabric, the Donna is the soul

of all the feasts, of all the bedrooms,

of all the secrets.

Being the ghost of the Palace, you

can sense her in the Royal Chapel,

in the Hercules Hall and in the Gallery

of Mirrors. But she is not visible; she

is the spirit of the castle, invoking

jealousy and gossip, drifting from

Queen to King, from Minister to Emperor,

from Courtier to Ambassador. Removing

the ribbons of the gala dresses to enable

the women to dance “le quadrille”,

blowing at the feathers of the gentle-

men´s hats when they lift them in

diplomatic salutation, making marks

from the red heels which squeak

across the vitreous parquet floor in

the ducal antechambers, the Donna

makes Versailles vibrate just like

the water fountains give life to the

gardens and is the source of energy,

gossip and light.

When the violas go silent and the halls

are empty she slides over the carpets

in between the chandeliers; thanks to

her the castle is forgotten in a dream

but it never ever sleeps.

 

Michel Soyer

President du Bal de Paris,

Festival Director

Paris, France

 

DONNA DE XIAN

 

Story by Patricia Nahmad

 

It was a warm and humid summer day

in the city of Xian. While walking she

looked at the surrounding fertile plains

filled with rivers and streams.

She was attractive and elegant

but at the same time gifted

and strong, she was powerful and she

loved her country and her people.

On the way back to her beautiful villa;

a grand pagoda surrounded by green

plains, she dreamed of converting Xian

into the most important place in the

country, into the capital of the Empire.

That same afternoon she had invited a

group of her aristocratic friends over

for tea which would be served in the

majestic garden of her house.

The table was set with the same

elegance that characterized her as a

person; beautiful porcelain from the

Ming dynasty and exotic newly cut

flowers giving the air a heavenly scent.

Together with the afternoon breeze

elegant ladies started arriving to share

the afternoon tea with her, while an

immaculate maid served the delightful

tea from a beautiful tea pot out of blue

and white porcelain. But suddenly

something magic happened, a cocoon

fell from one of the flowers and landed

in the cup of the Donna of Xian.

When she tried to remove the cocoon,

it slid between her fingers and changed

into a long, shining and soft filament.

Letting go of her surprise she saw that

what she finally had in her hands was

the treasure she would give to her

beloved city to make it the capital of

the Empire. The treasure was a thread

of silk, a thread that would be used to

weave a powerful industry and bring

attention and admiration from all over

the world. She named the road that

connected her city with the rest of

the world The Silk Route and as a

symbol of authority and defense 7,000

warrior and horse figures in real size

were made out of terracotta making

everyone respect the entrance to

the city. She was loved and worship-

ped by her people…

she was the Donna de Xian!

 

Patricia Nahmad,

Director of Showroom Nahmad

Marbella, Spain

DONNA DE COPENHAGUE

 

Story by Dario Poli

 

She came in the darkness of the night,

her stunning red hair flowing spectacu-

larly in the air. Unable to resist her invi-

sible power, I overcame any reservations

I had at the arrival of this vision of

mysterious loveliness, to awaken me

from my sleep. I called out to her; she

smiled and took my hand firmly in hers.

There was no need for words, as she

communicated to me through my mind.

Leading me behind her, we rose gently

upwards into the cool night air. I was

surprised and astonished as I was rising

higher, but had no fear at all.

Exhilarated beyond compare, and

feeling as light as a feather; my

thoughts were no longer that of a normal

person, but I was now a part of a

universal world of understanding.

I saw the countryside far below me and

then the outline of a coastline became

visible, as the bright moonlight cast it’s

powerful rays across the wide seascape.

I sensed we were close to Zealand the

island of the ancient vikings, which

according to the Norse mythology was

created by the goddess Gefion.

Lying alone on the banks of the sea;

with the sounds of the water flooding

my mind and the taste of salt carried

by the waves pervading the air, a faint

memory of this exact moment from

aeons ago, swiftly came to me and

vanished into the Nordic ether.

I felt a long tender kiss on my lips and

without opening my eyes, I whispered.

“Who are you?”

“Son of Tuscany, do you not recall

your long lost love?

La Donna de Copenhague?”

 

Dario Poli, Artist, Author and Composer

Mijas, Spain

 

DONNA DE PARIS

 

Story by Gilles Bonan

 

Dancing through the streets, humming the song by Gershwin“I love París...", she was heading for one of her favoriteplaces dressed fashionably in the colours of the drapeau tricolore.

She always went there whenever she had the time- Le Tour Eiffel.

Ever since her grandfather had taken herthere for the first time when she was a child, telling her about the history of the tower, she had always had this special feeling when visiting the tower.

She remembered going up to the third level, standing in the apartment that was earlier reserved for Gustave Eiffel to entertain his guest, just looking from high above at herbeloved city.

She could see Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame deParis, and Montparnasse, all the emblematic buildings,the bridges – indeed an amazing view.

Up here she felt free, inspired and proud of her city.

Paris, The City of Lights, her home.

Upon leaving the tower, like always she looked back one last time, remembering her grandfather, sending him a kiss.

Running along the boulevards to arrive in time to meet herfriends at Maxim´s.

Donna de Paris was in love, she had always been in love with her city.

Either high above or beingjust in the city centre hearing the sounds and feeling thesoul of the city. Just when she was about to enter RueRoyale, she heard someone whistle.

She turned slightly, and saw two men smiling at her.

She smiled back, her way of thanking them for the compliment, she wasused to this. She knew she was beautiful, her grandfatherhad told her so, she was the Donna de Paris, fascinating, just like her city of lights.

 

Gilles Bonan

CEO Roche Bobois,

Paris, France