In a digital landscape full of curated softness and filtered subtlety, Rani stands out by doing the opposite. The 25-year-old LA-based creator, artist, and sex worker is crafting a visual world that’s equal parts sensual, spiritual, and subversive.
From growing up in a strict Tamil household to turning her aesthetic rebellion into a creative career, Rani’s story is one of reclamation—of identity, body, and art.
Kahani Digital spoke with her about navigating cultural backlash, finding empowerment in sex work, and creating space for brown girls who want to be bold.
You’ve shared that you grew up in a strict South Asian household where expression was limited. How did that shape your approach to beauty and style today?
Rani: Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to wear what I wanted or hang out with friends. So when I finally moved out, I went all out—see-through tops, loud colors, Depop fits. I just wanted to feel free.
I think I’ll always dress a little slutty everywhere I go—but my style has refined. I wear what complements my body and what makes me feel confident. For me, fashion is rebellion, but it’s also healing.
Your visuals often weave South Asian aesthetics into modern, provocative imagery. How do you balance honoring your roots while also pushing against tradition?
Rani: Honestly, I don’t think it’s my job to honor all parts of my roots. South Asia already nailed aesthetics—our textiles, colors, jewelry. We know what we’re doing in that department. But no one person represents the culture.
I’ve faced more backlash from South Asians than from Westerners. But I get it. If you were raised being told not to do certain things, and then you see someone like me doing it freely—it’s triggering.
Still, I won’t stop dressing or expressing the way I do. So many women have DMed me saying I inspire them to be strong, feminine, and sexual. That makes it worth it.
How has creative freedom influenced the kind of work you make now?
Rani: Having full creative control has made my work stronger. I know my angles, my lighting, my colors. I also have a strong work ethic—it’s that immigrant upbringing. If you don’t work hard, you don’t eat.
I balance a lot, but I don’t like to box myself in. People always say “find your niche,” but I like to evolve. My interests change, and that’s okay.
You’ve started creating UGC (user-generated content) for South Asian-owned beauty brands. What drew you to that work?
Rani: I love it because it feels collaborative. UGC is what you see on Instagram stories—real people using products, not staged brand shoots.
I have a background in graphic design, so I care about packaging and branding. And honestly, it feels good to pay brown people instead of white influencers. I hope to work with brands like Kulfi Beauty, Live Tinted, and Vasanti Cosmetics—brands I actually buy from.
You’ve mentioned that sex work gave you both financial stability and creative freedom. How has that shaped your perspective on empowerment and autonomy?
Rani: Sex work changed my life. I used to let men bully me into doing things that hurt me, physically or emotionally, for pennies. Now, I flipped the script—I call the shots, and they pay me to.
That independence means I can focus on what I actually love—creating, collaborating, experimenting. I don’t have to say yes to everything just to survive.
What’s it been like navigating cultural representation through your work?
Rani: Visually, I always add a South Asian spin because that’s what feels beautiful to me—it’s what I grew up seeing. But I’m also reframing what that means.
I’m Tamil, but I often wear pieces that pull from North Indian styles. Eventually, I’d love to work with Tamil Nadu designers to modernize South Indian textiles—corsets, dresses, contemporary looks.
Growing up, I never felt connected to my culture because the clothes put on me didn’t feel like me. Now I’m reshaping that relationship. For others, these visuals might feel nostalgic—so when I make them sexy, it feels disrespectful to them. But for me, it’s reclamation.
You’ve faced challenges both personally and professionally. How have those experiences shaped how you move through the world now?
Rani: They’ve made me stronger. I don’t entertain hate comments anymore—it’s low vibration. I’ve learned to pour that energy into my art and my career.
I grew up without being allowed to know myself, so my work now is about rediscovery. I used to crave love from others; now I’m focused on my creativity and success. I’m a girly girl, I’m a fairy—but I’m also a hustler.
Looking ahead, what’s your dream project?
Rani: I’d love to creatively direct a campaign that merges coming-of-age stories with South Indian aesthetics. Maybe even write a screenplay or a comic—something Euphoria-esque, but from a Tamil girl’s perspective.
I’m also fascinated by ancient Indian culture, where women’s bodies and sexuality were celebrated, not shamed. I’d love to build visuals around that—reminding people that femininity and sensuality have always been sacred.
