Written By LE BOOK
From fashion-school foundations to the theatrical universe of drag, the French artist is building a visual language entirely her own. Following her appearance on Drag Race France Season 4, Malawitte reflects on creative freedom, artistic legitimacy and a future where queer artists finally receive their flowers.
Before the towering headpieces, extravagant silhouettes and unapologetic glamour, there was a desire to create. For Malawitte, artistic expression has always been instinctive, whether through dance, fashion or the simple pleasure of making something with her hands. Her drag persona emerged from a need to take that deeply personal creative world and share it with others.
“At some point, I was like, OK, that's it. I want to share this. I want to show it, express it and reach a wider audience.”
But Malawitte was never intended to be a fixed character. Instead, she has become an evolving universe through which the artist explores her identity, her heritage and everything that captures her imagination. The name itself carries a personal significance, rooted in her desire to remember where she comes from and remain proud of who she is.
“Malawitte is someone who is limitless,” she explains. “It's a way of reminding myself where I come from, where I'm going, and of always being proud of who I am.”
Fashion is central to that expression. Having studied fashion, Malawitte approaches drag not simply as a performance, but as a space where clothing, image, movement and storytelling converge. Her visual language draws on the designers who have consistently challenged conventions: Jean Paul Gaultier, Thierry Mugler, Vivienne Westwood and Alexander McQueen.
“They're my four designers in the pantheon,” she says. “I've realised that I don't like going where people expect me to go. I love outcasts, freaks, club kids and that whole energy.”
Her aesthetic brings couture craftsmanship into conversation with rhinestones, cabaret, burlesque and showgirl glamour. It is a celebration of femininity that refuses to ask permission — extravagant, technically considered and deliberately unexpected.
For Malawitte, a look begins with a story. Sometimes an image already exists in her mind; sometimes an unexpected fabric sparks an idea. But more often than not, the process starts with a concept, followed by a moodboard, sketches and the gradual construction of a silhouette.
“I like thinking about the idea first, because that's what inspires me to create the garment, rather than the other way around.”
Once the foundation is established, the real exploration begins. How can a shape become more surprising? What can colour, accessories or attitude bring to the narrative? Every element has the potential to push the original idea somewhere unexpected. The result is a signature that can be recognised even when Malawitte herself isn't wearing it. Think oversized headpieces that create the illusion of height, voluminous skirts, leopard print, violet, pink, baroque references and punk sensibilities colliding in a single look.
Yet the defining ingredient is less tangible than any particular garment.
“I have a kind of fierceness, but a gentle one,” she explains. “You don't feel beneath that person. You feel that they're radiating something.”
She calls it the Malawitte attitude: a confidence that doesn't diminish anyone else, but invites others to inhabit their own power. The clothes may be extravagant, but the underlying message is surprisingly simple — take up space, own your presence and let your individuality shine.
Among the looks closest to her heart is Cristal Phénoménal, created as a tribute to one of fashion history's most iconic visions: Thierry Mugler's La Chimère from 1997. The half-woman, half-creature silhouette encapsulates everything she loves about fashion: dreams, theatricality, extravagance and transformation. The project required considerable work and the involvement of many people, including her parents.
She also looks back proudly on her promotional and finale looks for Drag Race France, as well as the look created for French artist Theodora, which helped introduce her work to a wider audience. Her drag king persona, Malaking, offers another glimpse into the breadth of her creative universe.
Reinvention is often treated as a prerequisite for creative relevance. For a drag artist, the pressure can be particularly relentless: audiences expect new looks, new concepts and new surprises, sometimes every time a performer steps onstage.
For Malawitte, however, constant novelty can become a trap. Fashion and drag both require time, labour and financial investment, and endlessly abandoning a signature in pursuit of something new can mean losing the very qualities that make an artist distinctive.
“Sometimes I wonder whether people are going to get tired of seeing me do the same things. But honestly, some people might get tired of something after seeing it just once.”
Her solution is to trust her intuition. Repeating a visual motif can strengthen an artist's identity, allowing them to refine their language and develop a recognisable signature. At other times, a new direction is necessary. There is no formula, she insists, and outside opinions can make that decision even harder.
“When I start listening to everyone else, that's when I start losing myself.”
It's a philosophy that extends beyond the wardrobe. Malawitte is determined to create according to what she wants to communicate in a particular moment, rather than what others believe she should deliver. Not every experiment needs to please everyone, and not every appearance needs to reinvent the wheel. Freedom lies in knowing the difference.
When Malawitte watched the first season of Drag Race France, she remembers thinking that appearing on the show would be a dream. By Season 4, that dream had become reality. The experience proved transformative, not because it gave her permission to be an artist, but because it helped her recognise the legitimacy she already possessed.
“Coming out of there, I realised: I'm an artist, and I'm incredibly legitimate. Actually, I'm iconic. I'm doing this well, in my own way.”
Her time on the show also gave her the opportunity to introduce her universe to a national audience. As the show's first cisgender woman contestant, she sees her presence as meaningful, allowing her to represent her artistic vision on her own terms. Creatively, the experience pushed her further than ever before. “I've never created so much as I have this year,” she says. “It taught me that I can do anything. It takes determination and a lot of work, but I can create whatever I want and build whatever universe I want.”
There was another, less expected lesson: learning how to fail.
Raised in an environment where success and competition mattered, Malawitte found the public nature of leaving the competition early particularly challenging. Yet the experience forced her to reconsider what failure actually means. The outcome did not erase what she had learned, created or shared.
“I didn't stay for very long, but I learned so much. In the end, it feels less like a failure and more like a victory.”
The aftermath has also brought a new level of recognition. She describes a noticeable shift in the way brands, media professionals and people around her approach her work — with a greater sense of respect for her artistic contribution. For an artist who has spent years building her own visual language, that recognition matters.
The glamour of drag can make the labour behind it almost invisible. A three-minute performance may look effortless, but the apparent ease is often the result of days or weeks of preparation, from developing a concept and constructing a look to perfecting movement, interpretation and stage presence.
“People don't always realize that it's a full-time job,” Malawitte says. “They see someone learn a song, put on some makeup and an outfit, and think it looks easy. But there is an enormous amount of work behind it.”
For her, drag is both a performing and a visual art, requiring an understanding of the body, the image and the smallest details that bring a character to life. The illusion of effortlessness is part of the craft itself.
“If people don't see everything happening behind the scenes, it's because we're doing our part really well.”
But that invisibility comes at a cost. Despite the cultural influence of drag, many performers continue to face financial precarity, struggling to cover rent, costumes and makeup while dedicating months to their craft.
“We work for months before a show. We deserve to be paid and respected.”
Her argument is not simply about fair compensation. It is about recognising drag artists as the skilled creative professionals they are, rather than treating their work as a spectacle that materialises effortlessly.
Ask Malawitte what she wants to see change in the creative industries, and her answer is immediate: recognition must be accompanied by opportunity.
She believes the contribution of drag and the wider queer community to fashion, makeup, art and contemporary visual culture remains disproportionate to the credit they receive. The aesthetics, techniques and cultural movements that have shaped today's image-making industries did not emerge in a vacuum. Queer artists, trans women and other marginalised creatives have helped build them, often without receiving equivalent visibility or financial reward.
“The industry needs to give drag its flowers — and give the queer community its flowers, too,” she says. “The place drag occupies in society today doesn't reflect the power with which it has impacted it.”
For Malawitte, progress means more than occasional representation. It means drag queens being booked for fashion shows, appearing on runways, fronting luxury campaigns and occupying the covers of major magazines. It means queer creatives having the opportunity to lead brands and shape the industries they have helped influence.
“I want to see drag queens on the cover of Vogue. I want to see dolls becoming CEOs of luxury brands.”
She also believes there is value in preserving drag's underground roots. Mainstream visibility should not come at the expense of the communities and histories that made the art form possible. The objective is not to make every corner of drag commercial, but to ensure that artists can continue creating without being condemned to precarity.
The principle is simple: give credit where it is due, and make room for the people who have earned it.
For an artist who sees creativity as a way of life, staying within a single discipline has never been particularly appealing. Malawitte wants to explore cinema, theatre, acting, music, photography and art direction — not necessarily to master every field, but to discover what becomes possible when she allows herself to experiment.
“I want to do everything. I don't need to be the best at it; I just want to create. The sky is the limit.”
The immediate horizon includes the Drag Race France tour, an opportunity to pursue her love of dance and performance. Beyond that, she imagines developing a show of her own, collaborating with international creatives and taking her work beyond France.
Photographers Jules Galinat and Mickaël Preux are among the artists she has particularly enjoyed working with this year. Their collaborations have helped shape her recent imagery, and the possibility of building a creative studio with a wider team of photographers, stylists, makeup artists, designers and art directors is already being discussed. Her references also include the theatrical imagery of Tim Walker and Pierre et Gilles, alongside a desire to collaborate with international makeup artists such as Pat Mcgrath or Sophia Sinot. Looking towards 2027, she imagines crossing the ocean, meeting new creative partners and exporting the Malawitte universe to new audiences.
And if she could create a single image to represent this next chapter? It would be a secret door. Behind it, an enormous world would be visible, but not yet fully understood — a promise of everything still waiting to be discovered.
“I want to keep building my legacy. There's this huge universe behind the door, and I don't even know exactly what's on the other side yet.”
Then comes the final gesture: she would kick the door open, inviting everyone to follow her through. For Malawitte, the next chapter isn't about becoming someone else. It's about discovering just how far the person she has already become can go.