The Milanese Queen

The Miracle Model - who took the whole world by a storm. Twice.

Infantile Amnesia

March 2, 1978

I made my obviously overdramatic appearance into the world, just twenty two weeks after being implanted onto the uterine wall, weighing in at a measly 3 pounds and 3oz...

Born at exactly 11:59pm, I was apparently, a 'miracle baby'.

Of course, I made the headlines;

The Milanese Miracle - "Heroin(e) births premature infant."

Padre dealt drugs to defenceless teenagers.

He'd get them dependent, so they would have no choice but to drop out of school and work for him.

Madre?

...she was one of them.

Knocked up with me at 15, unfortunately, unable to recover from the damage caused by her preadolescent substance abuse.

When he finally got caught, Padre received a life sentence. Charged with murder amongst other things... we'll not go into that now.

It was 1981. I would have been turning 3.

By this point, Madre was rapidly deteriorating in a psychiatric hospital and I was living with Aunt Lucia.

Luckily, my aunt was an Angel.

Once a professional dancer, with the 'longest legs in Milan', she has piercing eyes, that 'drove the men wild'... Although we didn't get off to a great start, she was an amazing role model and at least with her around, I was safe.

Café Talpa

We lived in a small apartment above la Talpa.

It was always the plan, that when I finished school, I would work in the café whilst my Aunt Lucia worked on 'perfecting her Pasta al forno'.

On March 2, 1994, I turned 16 and did exactly that.

La Talpa was a small, 'clan-ran' cafe.

Just the two of us... plus Pietro. He was in love with Aunt Lucia. She kept him around like a lost puppy. Sort of like an uncle, without the benefits.

Our regular customers were mainly nomadic writers.

Every chair, more often than not, fortunately filled with authors from around the word. It was my job to keep them continuously caffeinated, assuring they could work the whole day through with minimal lag.

We became known for our ability to enthusiastically aid in producing some of the worlds best selling material.

There were rumours we had, 'something in the air'...

Aunt Lucia was forever telling the story of how Bruce Chatwin would visit whilst in Milan.

Apparently, it was Bruce who originally gave us the nickname, "buco di talpa" (mole hole), since many writers would famously burrow inside our warm walls,  to nest while finishing projects.

Looking back now, it's so fucking obvious she was sleeping with them. Was that the 'magic in the air' and source of 'divine inspiration'?

...anyway, so that's how we got the name.

The Day Everything Changed

May 29, 1997.

It was our quietest day for months.

Maybe word had spread that Aunt Lucia had caught an STI ran out of coffee or something, because we had no customers what so ever.

Struggling to stay awake, I was literally loosing the will to live.

Until, I got the fright of my life...

"I don't care if we loose 30 or 300, Lara, just get it fucking done!

...okay, okay. I'll call you back."

The silence was broken, as a slender silhouette slowly revealed a heavy footed, high-heel wearing signora heading straight towards the entrance of the Talpa.

Our cliental was 90% male, so it's usually surprising to have another woman enter the café as is, but the additional pre-eminence pouring out of this unknown figure led to further puzzling disbelief.

“I need coffee darling. I am about to... GOOD-gracious, darling, aren’t you gorgeous?”

Following the rather theatrical removal off her golden Dior sunglasses, her tightly squinted eyes scanned my whole body, head to toe, in mere seconds.

In that moment, I felt as though I had been seen for the very first time.

She asked me who I worked for. After awkwardly explaining it was my aunt's cafe, she laughed and told me she meant my agent...

Now, this was when my life changed.

Of course, this is completely paraphrasing what was actually, however, it was something along the lines of;

“No dear. Fashion!

With skin so perfectly porcelain.. and... your... look at those, cheekbones! Your eyes, so effortlessly... AND your hair, how smooth! ...darling listen, if you are not already signed to anyone, I HAVE got to get you sized up, immediately.

Here take my card. Come by, tomorrow at 3.

...what is your name?”

I couldn't quite get my words out... I thought I had fallen asleep.

"...Maria Maggio"

"Lorenza.

Nice to meet you, Maria Maio. We have been looking for a girl like you for some time. You have no idea. Gorgeous!

From this day on I was no longer invisible. No longer just a fly on the wall of the Talpa. Lorenza Montaldo, owner of Modo Models, the biggest agency in Milan had just come into my café and offered me a job?

Did that actually happen?

Sign on The Dotted Line...

Ever since reading Aunt Lucia's favourite book, "The Songlines", I had always dreamt about visiting Australia. So, when I found out my first proper assignment would be in Sydney, I couldn't contain myself.

Initially, I signed a €20,000 contract with Modo who flew me out a few days later. I remember thinking, wow, they work quick in this industry. Seriously having no idea what I was getting myself into.

That short stay soon turned into six months, those months, to a year.

They put me on the cover of Vogue Australia, which was a sky rocket for furthering my career in modelling - beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

My face was everywhere.

By the time I turned 20, I had worked with every high end fashion photographer in the country. One year was all it took to dominate every magazine and billboard in Australia. 

I was exhausted.

Yet, they had plans to 'expand the brand', of course.

So Modo sent me over to USA, where I shot my first TV commercial.

I was international.

Marina Maio, The New Marilyn? - "Milan supermodel takes America by a storm."

I became a house hold name, all over the world. Overnight.

At this point I had a net profit of $20 million USD, which was set to triple over the next year.

Everything happened so quickly and seemed too good to be true...

Until it wasn't.

During quite an important meeting with some fairly respectable producers, regarding a potential biopic, I received some news.

It was Pietro.

Before reading the message, I knew. I already knew why he was calling.

I remember a feeling of deep sadness came over me like never before. They didn't like it, but I called off the meeting and booked a flight to Milan right away.

Lucia Maggio, - 1955-2000.

On February 11, 2000. Age 45. My angel, Aunt Lucia spread her wings and rose to the heavens.

The woman that raised, and saved me, devastatingly burned alive in her own home, above La Talpa. It wasn't clear as to how or why, but the building had caught fire while she was sleeping.

The lady whom' I absolutely adored, I looked up to since a young girl, and who's motherly mannerisms I mimicked as a child. Gone.

I couldn't even begin to...

Freak Fire Kills - "Milanese supermodel, Maria Maio buries famous dancer, Aunt, Lucia Maggio."

I couldn't shake it.

The worst thing was; I was supposed to have been back home that weekend. I should have been in La Talpa. I should have been in that fire.

Did I escape fate?

Nothing was adding up.

I had to get away.

The Parisian Process (TLBB)

After leaving Pietro in charge of everything, I bought an apartment in Paris and pressed pause for a while.

At first it was impossible to leave the apartment without getting recognised. Thankfully though, the longer I left it, the quicker I became less relevant, and the press, less invasive.

Of course, I was still making those headlines...

The Milanese 'HasBeen' - "From Vogue, To Vague"

I found an extraordinarily cosy cafe, that reminded me of la Talpa and Milan. I spent a lot of time there.

The aroma of copious amounts of coffee brought back many vivid memories. Often caught myself gazing at the girl waiting tables, romantically visioning her very own Lorenza Montaldo appearing to hire her for her dream job...

My first year in Paris, I didn't do any photo shoots, but, I did write.

I wrote a lot.

I bought a little black book and I wrote my story.

I found my warm walls and I wrote.

I wrote every single piece of traumatic turmoil that I had burrowed deep down inside. About my parents; diving into Padre's dark past and Madre's inevitable decline.

I wrote about growing up as an unwanted, 'miracle baby', featured on every publication's front page, since birth. The piece of shit photographers that sexually assaulted me during my first week in Australia.

I wrote about all of the many drugs they fed me when I was too tired to shoot. About the absolute hell I walked through whilst getting off them.

I wrote and I wrote.

I wrote about Café Talpa, bucco di talpa, and I wrote, of course, about my guardian angel.

The Book Signing...

Café Talpa was given a full refurbishment, opening it's doors once again on March 3, 2003.

We published "MOLE", in honour of Aunt Lucia, followed by an incredible launch party at la Talpa.

MOLE, by Maria Maggio  - "The Milanese Miracle reveals all in BRAND NEW autobiography."

Who Is Maria Maggio?! - "Claiming back her family name, ex-model, Maria Maio shares life story."

So just like that, my story has been written.

You can find now buy it from Café Talpa in a limited run.

To the man I caught, sneakily sketching a portrait of me whilst I was reading in that very cafe in Paris. Thank you for helping me push through and get out the other side, almost unscratched. I have had my photograph taken by the best photographers in the world, yet nobody ever quite captured me like you did on that day.

Now, we have 9 months (or 5) to write out new chapter.

A new miracle awaits.

Marina "Mole" Maggio

TMOL&E

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