About

To me she is a love of my life; to some, she’s a great friend; to others, a talented cook; and to a lucky few, a devoted mom—but those who’ve been in the right place at the right moment know her by another name: The Microphone Outlaw.

Now, Dragana wasn’t born so much as she arrived with a bang in Aleksinac, that town famous for its good stories and strong women who take no nonsense from nobody. She grew up so wrapped up in the teaching trade that by the time she was knee-high to a grasshopper, folks were already saying, “There goes Dragana, carrying the weight of the classroom in her smile and the patience of a saint.” Cooking for her boys became her daily symphony, though she had a habit of forgetting little things—usually right when the house mischievies were plotting their next adventure, which was about as often as the sun rising.

But don’t let that sweetness fool you, for Dragana had a wild streak—a secret star waiting for her spotlight. If life hadn’t kindly carved her into the shape of a teacher, she’d have been a full-blown singer, no doubt about it; and not just any singer, but one with a voice so fierce it could make a stone weep.

Now, this brings us to the legend that’s been passing from one concert crowd to the next—the tale of Dragana, the Microphone Outlaw. It started innocently enough, at a local show where the sweet strains of Starogradska music filled the air. The moment the music hit just right, Dragana, feeling the call of a thousand ancestors in her bones, reached out, grabbed the microphone from a thoroughly surprised performer, and let loose a voice that didn’t just fill the room, it shook the rafters and softened the toughest hearts.

From that night on, wherever Dragana went, musicians glanced nervously at their mics, because you never knew when this microphone outlaw would strike. She’d slide into a crowd, bide her time with a sly smile, and then—like a lightning bolt—she’d snatch that mic and sing like the house depended on it, leaving behind a trail of awestruck fans and whispered tales.

She wasn’t a troublemaker, mind you—just a fierce lover of Starogradska song and soul with a voice that could bend time itself. And if you ever find yourself at a concert where something magical happens—the music grows louder, the crowd’s hearts beat faster, and a voice from the shadows steals the spotlight—that’s Dragana, the microphone outlaw, reminding us all that sometimes, the best stories are the ones you make yourself.