Women’s Stories – with Maya Joffe
Maya Joffe is a designer and writer who accompanies processes of change and innovation, out of curiosity of what comes next. We have been following her work for some time now, and are drawn to the research, design, and futuristic perspective she brings. In recent years, Maya has been living and creating in Grenoble, France, and moves between the local and the global. In a conversation with her, she talks about her path, about craft as a contemporary approach, and the search for meaning in a changing world.
Can you introduce yourself?
I am Maya, 38 years old, a designer and writer. I advise and accompany brands and organizations in processes of change and innovation, through researching trends and developing strategies that look far ahead. The rest of the time I write, mostly about design but not only. I currently live with my family in Grenoble, the capital of the French Alps, but I will be moving back to Israel soon.
Tell us about your work? What field do you come from?
When I was I student, I early on found myself more into the preliminary processes: material research, gathering inspiration and assembling color palettes. After completing my studies and for three years, I worked as a window designer of “story” shops in Israel. We were a team bursting with talent and creativity, and we were able to reach to the moon with ideas that today seem almost absurd. It was precisely my role as a designer of display devices whose job is to promote sales that brought up thoughts about sustainability and responsibility. I think the combination of curiosity and a slight fear of the future led me to ask a lot of questions, most of which begin with "why". After experimenting with so many different materials as a product designer, I started exploring the most elusive material of all—the future. At first I worked very intuitively, and later decided to deepen my understanding through structured methodologies in postgraduate studies in Design & Foresight at ECAL in Switzerland.
Window designer of “story” shops in Israel
Stories of people who live different lives excite me, broaden my perspective, and also satisfy my voyeuristic instinct, which I am not ashamed to admit to.
In this sense, foreign cinema activates all my senses. I especially love films that manage to put me into someone else's routine, such as the wonderful films of the Norwegian Joachim Trier. Literature is another genre that I am drawn to: getting lost in characters who are not me, experiencing the world through other eyes, or from the perspective of another era - it is a great way to flood your mind with thoughts of alternative futures.
What is your favorite part of your work? Or your workday?
Every day is very different for me, mainly because I work on several projects at once, and if possible, each on a different phase. There are days when I mainly read, there are days when I write, and there are days of editing and curating, in which I try to find a connecting thread between everything I have marked as interesting. When I wonder where to lead the client, it feels like I am groping in the dark among overwhelming piles of information. Then suddenly there is an elusive moment when little lights turn on, indicating the direction to move forward, and everything connects coherently.
How do craft and handcraft fit with all this?
All the women in my family were involved in handicrafts and I also fell in love with the magic of craft, especially crochet, which I learned in Barcelona on a student exchange. Much has been said about the benefits of repetitive work, but I think that the power of manual labor is precisely when it goes from the personal to the global. I truly believe that nowadays, in a world rushing to do, to duplicate, to consult and to shorten processes, there is something almost radical about returning to the rhythm of the hands and to manual work. In my opinion, this is the most natural and logical counter-reaction to what is happening around us. In this sense, craft is not nostalgia but a strategy. It is an excellent way to maintain quality and human connection within a system becoming more secure and disconnected.
And additionally, knitting makes sense. We need to make efforts to re-tie ties instead of unraveling, to return to acting as a collective.
Tell us a story about a dream that came true for you. How did you make it happen?
As a child of civil service parents, I lived in Paris, and I think this experience has completely changed the way I perceive the world. Wandering germs have led me to a few more places for short periods, and I have always dreamed of giving my children the experience of living somewhere else, even if for a short period. In 2022, we decided to embark on an adventure of several years and the chosen destination is Grenoble, a small city at the foot of the French Alps.
Making a dream come true is a scary thing, especially because the moment it comes to light, you have to find a new one.
How does the situation in Israel affect your work?
Although we live a four and a half hour flight from Tel Aviv, as the song says - our heart remains in the East. We work with Israeli clients, our family is partly in Israel and at the end of the day we understand that no matter where we go, the kitbag with the identity baggage goes with us everywhere. Consciously or unconsciously, in these two years, I have been working on projects from non-commercial companies - philanthropic foundations, associations and ventures whose goals are to create a better Israeli society. Apart from homesickness and thinking about the future, I have a deep, magnetic feeling calling me to return to Israel and try to be part of the solution.
Life Recommendation \ Exhibition \ Album \ Motto
8 years ago, my grandmother, whom I was very attached to, passed away very unexpectedly. Her house was always packed with objects she had collected, dishes with delicious smells and constant occurrences and suddenly, one day she disappeared and everything went silent. It sounds silly but more than anything I was surprised that she left and took nothing with her. As a designer, this insight awakened in me the constant need to ask what we actually need and what is unnecessary. What burdens us, what can be cleaned. Both on a physical level, but also on a spiritual level.
What are you working on these days?
I am always in a state of readjustment. I am saying goodbyes with mixed feelings to a place that was predefined as temporary but somehow has spread in my heart and become a home. I just dismantled a small exhibition at the architect's house in Grenoble which was an eye-opening experience. I continue to support my regular clients and at the same time I am starting to rebuild anchors for future projects in Israel. I continue to write my regular column about life here, and every week I face the question of what is interesting in my life and my perspective that is worth writing about.
What else do you dream of achieving?
I dream of reaching a place where I can combine all my skills and feel like I am truly adding value. The closest I came to that was when I led the establishment of the spa at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. It was a project that encompassed everything I think I am good at: mediating between people and processes, producing and managing a project, working with budgets and suppliers, while also making use of my design background, even if not in a designer role.
My dream is to bring all of this to a large and meaningful project with public value, something that makes a real contribution to the community, such as a cultural center or educational space.
Pho. Amit Geron
My grandparents had the most beautiful hardware store in Herzliya. As a child, I spent holidays there, sitting on the counter, alternating between operating the cash register and duplicating keys on an old, creaky machine.
When they retired, they brought the best tools home and built a small, magnificent atelier. We even prepared my design school portfolio together.
I inherited technical skills from my grandfather, but from my grandmother I took something else entirely: diligence and patience.
She taught me there is no such thing as a problem that can’t be solved—that almost always, something can be fixed with creativity and a bit of improvisation.
I like to think the same is true for the future.
