Origins: A Universe in a Raindrop

During the 2008 monsoon in Shaoxing, raindrops fell from century-old factory eaves onto raw silk, blooming into liquid ripples. Third-generation heir Mrs Ma watched the sky’s blurred reflection in the fabric, recalling her grandfather’s wisdom:

“Cloth must breathe before light can dance.”

That year, she transformed the family OEM factory into Runyéla:

Run (Fluid Grace) · Yé (Shaped by You) · La (Sublime Poetry)

East-West Divide

37% of their first jacquard curtains shipped to Europe were returned—Germans protested “teal hues assault the eyes,” French buyers deemed “silk insufficient for blackout.” Before an empty booth at Cologne Furniture Fair, Mrs Ma realized:

Between Eastern whisper-of-void aesthetics and Western demand for functional precision,a bridge was needed to translate light’s language.

Against Time

While fast fashion floods markets with 1,000 monthly designs, Runyéla offers a Two-Decade Pact:

Retired curtains reborn as Bai ethnic indigo art—cracks morphing into vines

The Babel Tower of Light grows in Paris—woven from 37 nations’ recycled drapes

“True luxury isn’t novelty, but memories woven into aged cloth”— Mrs Ma at Davos 2024

Now: Eternal Light

In Runyéla’s Rome gallery, sunset streams through Donegal linen, casting Song Dynasty lattice shadows on marble. An Italian elder traces the silkworm chip, whispering:“This light crossed Hangzhou’s mulberry groves, Shaoxing’s looms, a Berlin flat… to rest at my feet.”

Mrs Ma’s journal:“We never made curtains,only this possibility—that when the world thunders past in steel,you may still hold a swath of linen to mold light into astonishment.”