The Voice That Unveils the Soul Behind the Runways and the Stages. Interview with María Folgueira By José Luis Ortiz Güell

 There are people who shine with their own light, not just because of their talent, but because of the authenticity that emanates from their being. María Folgueira is not only a prodigious voice that has conquered stages, nor merely a model who has walked for the great names of international fashion. She is, above all, a woman who has known how to navigate between the perfection of the catwalks and the vulnerability of emotions, between the dazzling spotlights and the intimacy of her truth.

 Today, we enter her world, beyond the covers and the applause. Today, we discover the María who beats behind the art, the one who dreams, who falls and rises, who turns each song into a piece of her soul and each step into an act of bravery.

 1. María, your life is a kaleidoscope of art: music, fashion, image… But who is María Folgueira when she puts down the microphone and steps away from the cameras?

 I’m like the sea: days of serene calm and days of restless waves. I don’t pretend to be perfect, because perfection is an illusion, but I do aim to be authentic in every step I take.

 I have my good days, those when everything flows with the clarity of dawn, and also my bad days, when the storm seems unwilling to pass. But it’s precisely there, in that fragile yet resilient humanity, that I find my strength.

 I’m not a figure carved in marble, but a flesh-and-blood person who dares to laugh out loud, to make mistakes, to get back up… and sometimes, even to let tears draw their own path. Because true professionalism isn’t about hiding the cracks, but knowing that even through them, light seeps in.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s that simplicity is not synonymous with smallness. On the contrary: it’s the elegance of those who know their worth without needing to boast, of those who build their legacy not with grandiose speeches, but with actions that reverberate through time.
That’s why, when asked who I am, I respond with pride: a tireless worker, a practical dreamer, and above all, a woman who chooses to stay true to herself… even when the world demands she wear masks.

 2. You’ve walked for renowned designers. On those runways, what does it feel like to be the center of eyes judging your every step? Was there ever a moment when insecurity won?

 The no’s hurt. They say them at the beginning, they keep saying them later, and sometimes, even when you think nothing can knock you down, one comes along that shakes you to the core.

 But I’ve learned something: rejections are not just stones on the path — they are the path. Each one has taught me to pause, breathe, and remember something key: in this business, it’s not about being liked, but about being.

 Yes, it’s hard. Accepting yourself when others point fingers? Loving yourself when they make you feel like you don’t fit in? It’s a battle. But over time, I understood that true freedom lies in no longer asking for permission to exist.
Because this isn’t a popularity contest: it’s art, it’s business, it’s life. And in life, the only unbearable thing isn’t being rejected… it’s betraying yourself out of fear of rejection.

 So here I am: with scars, yes, but also with pride. Because every no that didn’t break me, made me stronger. Because today I’d rather be myself and be too much for some, than a false version and lose my essence. In the end, the ones who succeed aren’t the perfect ones, but those who dared to keep standing, authentic, even when the world screamed at them to give up.

 3. Music is pure emotion. When you sing, what wounds or joys of your life resonate in your songs? Is there one that’s especially hard to perform because it hits too close to home?

 Orchestral music is a hurricane of joy, a whirlwind of celebration that lifts the audience from their seats… but behind every trumpet that bursts and every drumbeat that echoes, there’s a heart beating. I am that heart.

 When I sing that song everyone sings along to with a beer in hand, some see only fun. But I feel every word. The lyrics, even the most festive ones, are stories disguised as rhythm. A song about heartbreak that makes thousands dance is, for me, a lump in the throat that I transform into energy.
A danceable track about fleeting joys sometimes tastes like melancholy dressed as hope.

 It’s not a contradiction: it’s humanity. Because a true artist doesn’t reproduce emotions — they live them. And when I get on stage, I carry with me that beautiful paradox: being the driver of others’ party while navigating my own emotions. It’s my superpower: turning the personal into the universal, and making even the most intimate sorrow sound like celebration when I sing it from the soul.

 In the end, maybe that’s the magic: that while the crowd dances without thinking, someone in the front row looks into my eyes and, for a moment, recognizes in my voice what they don’t dare to say. And then the party becomes catharsis.

 4. Being the face of major brands implies perfection. But which of your “imperfections” do you embrace most fondly, and why?

 If I had a magic wand, what would I change? Many things, no doubt. But there’s something I’d never touch: that intensity tattooed on my soul that sometimes even scares me. Ha! It’s my hallmark, my curse, and my gift all at once.

 I’m like a volcano in constant eruption: when I love, it’s with everything; when I sing, I set the stage on fire; when I live, I do it racing against time. Yes, this overflowing passion has given me more than a few headaches — anyone who says otherwise is lying — but it’s also the engine that’s turned my dreams into reality.
At this point, I’ve made peace with my essence. I understood that we can’t edit our character like an Instagram filter. Some things come factory-installed, like the color of my eyes or this visceral way of facing life. Is it too much sometimes? Maybe. But I’d much rather be too much myself than a diluted, politically correct version of who I really am.

 In the end, what some call excess, I call authenticity. And in a world full of half-measures, daring to be intense is almost a revolutionary act.

 5. In such a competitive world, how do you keep your warmth and humanity? Were you ever tempted to become a “diva,” or did you always prefer to be… María?

 The top is an illusion chased by those who need flags to feel important. Me? I prefer the journey. That beaten dirt path where each day I learn, stumble, and rise with hands stained by experience. I’m not a star — I’m a craftswoman. One more in the trade who loves her craft with the devotion of someone who knows the true master is an eternal student.

 There’s a powerful beauty in not seeing yourself as arrived. When you take off the crown, you free yourself from the burden of having to prove something. And then the magic happens: every stage becomes your first time, every song a discovery, every applause an unexpected gift.
Maybe that’s why, when asked about my achievements, I proudly respond: I haven’t created my best work yet. Because in this profession — like in life — the extraordinary isn’t in the goal, but in that spark that keeps you searching even when no one’s watching. That inner fire that doesn’t die with the years… that’s my only victory.

 6. If you could travel back in time, what advice would you give that little girl who dreamed of singing and has achieved so much today?

 If I could give my past self one piece of advice, it would be this: Dear, breathe. Those storms that keep you up at night today will be mere breezes in your memory tomorrow. Life has a curious way of putting everything in its place… as long as you give time some time.
I learned late but well: some battles only exist in our minds, ghosts we feed with fears and that vanish when we dare to turn on the light.
Those outside judgments that hurt so much? They’re just opinions from people who see the world through lenses different from ours. And believe me, no one — absolutely no one — has the monopoly on truth.

 Today I smile when I remember how much energy I wasted worrying about what might happen or what they would say. The secret is distinguishing between what truly matters and what only seems to matter.

 Because in the end, the only things that remain are the moments when you were true to yourself — not the ones you spent trying to meet others’ expectations.
So my legacy would be this: live intensely, but not dramatically. Take your dreams seriously, but not the opinions of those who don’t share your path. And above all… learn to laugh at your own certainties, because life always has a lesson ready for those who think they have all the answers.

 7. Finally: When the last applause fades and the lights go out, how would you like the world to remember María Folgueira?

 I’d like the echo of my name on the lips of those I loved to sound like a warm, sincere melody. That when they remember me, they feel that wordless embrace that’s only born when you give your soul unconditionally.

 Because if I’ve done anything right in this life, it’s been to love with my guts, with that fire that sometimes burned but always, always, illuminated.
I don’t aspire to monuments or grand tributes. My legacy is those moments stolen from time: the laughter that snuck in through the window at 3 AM, the tears I didn’t judge, the silences I knew how to accompany.

 I want to be, in their memory, that refuge where no one ever had to apologize for being human.

 If I had to sum it up, I’d ask for a simple epitaph: “Here lies someone who loved too much.” Not the sugar-coated love from movies, but the kind that stains your hands with mud because it dares to dig into others’ wounds to help heal them. The kind that stays when the spotlights go out and the applause ends. Because in the end, we take only one thing with us: the certainty of having been, for someone, a harbor in the middle of their storm.

 María Folgueira needs no more titles. Her voice is already a legacy, her presence a hymn to authenticity. This interview is not just a dialogue — it’s a journey into the depths of a woman who chose to be truth in a world of appearances. And in the end, among the notes of her songs and the echo of her steps on the catwalks, what remains is unforgettable: the soul of someone who knows that true luxury doesn’t lie in what’s displayed, but in what’s felt.
Thank you, María, for letting us in.