It all started with desire and that landscape.

The wind was soft that morning, brushing against the wild Mediterranean and the sharp lines of a coastline so divine it seemed designed by myth. Before the yachts, before the champagne glinting in crystal, before the slow arrival of July’s golden chaos—there was silence. 

The Costa Smeralda is not just a place; it’s a rare frequency. In the early 1960s, when Aga Khan discovered this untouched corner of Sardinia, he imagined a haven where luxury would bow to nature, not conquer it. Calling upon architects like Jacques and Savin Couelle, whose villas did not impose, but rather grew from the rocks. No straight lines. Only curves, structures that breathed.

Màgala was born within one of those very villas. Our headquarters—a Couelle home—is not just a studio. It’s an instrument. Arches filter the sunlight into golden lines across our sketches. Every curve in the space reminds us to think slower, draw deeper, feel more.

Every Màgala piece begins in this sanctuary—shaped by hand with the reverence of one who knows beauty is not invented, but remembered. The silhouettes, the fabrics, the rhythm of each collection—they all carry the memory of this place: its warmth, its wildness, its restraint. We design in harmony with the Costa’s divine tension—between elegance and rawness, between quiet solitude and unapologetic grandeur.

Before the season begins, before the world returns, the air is still. The beaches are empty. The bougainvillea moves like a whisper. And in this suspended time, Màgala takes shape.

From sketch to campaign, every detail is rooted here—on this sacred coastline where beauty echoes.

I call it Costa Smeralda Divine.