Bindis, Bangles, ela saapad, and a refusal to dilute who they are.

For generations now, the global standpoint of how Indians, more specifically, how South Indian women, have been portrayed has felt like a concept rather than a reality. While it’s tempting to blame only global platforms, Bollywood has been more than happy to contribute to this narrative too.
Upon its 2025 release, Param Sundari faced immense backlash for its stereotypical and outdated portrayal of Kerala. The protagonist, Thekkapetta Sundari Damodaran Pillai, played by Jhanvi Kapoor, a half-Tamil, half-Malayali girl, was shown climbing coconut trees and speaking with an obtrusive, exaggerated South Indian accent. The portrayal only further aggravated the world’s tendency to flatten South Indians into accents and reduce them to exotification.
While Bollywood failed to represent South Indian women, Lara and Rhea Rajgopalan, famously known as the Raj sisters, might just have become the new face of South Indian glamour with their bindis, om pendants, bangle stacks, and fusion fits, which are absolutely adored both in the Indian diaspora and internationally. The Raj sisters have a reputation for being authentic to themselves, and therefore, their representation is deemed as an unperformative act and an extension of their public personas. They don’t wear their culture as a costume or strip symbols out of context to gain applause or attention.
Rhea says: “I don’t think me and [Lara] ever go out just like on a sister date in Chennai.”
The Connecticut-born sisters recently visited Chennai, their தாய்நாடு (motherland in Tamil), as Lara captioned her Instagram post. Their trip was captured in a Vogue India video as part of their “On The Road” series, showcasing their love for their hometown. The Raj sisters take us on a sister date, most obviously dressed in bomb outfits by Chennai-based designer Ashwin Thiagarajan, paired with traditional Indian accessories, including dupattas, bindis, and their iconic matching om necklaces.
They walk us through several temple visits, especially the Kapaleeswarar Temple, a significant, ancient Dravidian-style Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Shiva (Kapaleeswarar) and Goddess Parvati (Karpagambal), close to where they grew up. As they drove past Besant Nagar Beach, reminiscing about their playful memories on the Ferris wheel, Rhea recalled the last time she was in Chennai. “I did not look at the traffic; I opened the door, and a bus came and flung the door away. I just sat in the car, and the door flew away.” “Muttal. Muttal,” (‘stupid’ in Tamil), Lara teased playfully.
Throughout the video, the Raj sisters’ affection for South Indian cuisine is clear and unfiltered. From stopping for her favourite karupatti coffee to delighting in an elaborate ela saapad(a traditional South Indian feast, especially Tamil, served on a banana leaf), Rhea describes the dishes with genuine joy, while Lara adds anecdotes about Kerala specialities and Tamil rasam. “Our food is so vibrant and comforting at the same time,” Rhea says, “it’s like every meal has a story, every spice has a memory.” In every moment, whether shopping at a local market or tasting fruits at their grandparents’ home, their appreciation for the flavours of Chennai feels effortless and heartfelt, a reflection of how deeply food is woven into their identity and their connection to the city.

Only after watching them move through Chennai does it fully register who Lara and Rhea Raj are on a global scale. The sisters have built careers that firmly establish them within international pop culture. Rhea Raj, a 25-year-old singer-songwriter, has steadily carved space for herself through tracks like Outside, Devil In A Dress and her EPs, which blend pop, R&B, and confessional songwriting. (My personal favourites being her singles Killer and Mumbai)
The 20-year-old Lara Raj, on the other hand, operates within a different kind of spotlight. As a member of the global girl group Katseye, formed by a collaborative creation between Hybe and Geffen Records and song releases such as Touch, Gnarly, Gabriela and Gameboy. Lara has managed to retain a sense of self that does not feel edited for palatability and carved out a distinct identity for herself within her band as well as outside for her unapologetic style, provided that the conforms of Kpop have not been very open to darker skintones, as also noted in the Netflix documentary “Pop Star Academy”, where Lara expressed how she was repeatedly asked to “tone” down her personal aesthetic to suit a more demure taste of the Kpop industry. The Raj sisters’ representation signals a shift in what global pop can look like when it stops asking artists to smooth out their cultural edges.
“All of this was always part of our DNA; something we’ve always really loved and cling to very strongly. We feel really proud of our identity. We are at this global stage right now where we have a lot of eyes on us, and we want to bring forward parts of our culture that are important to us,” Rhea says in her interview with The Hindu.
The weight of that statement becomes clearer when placed against a familiar industry pattern. Many pop stars of Indian origin often deflect performing in India, treating the country as a sentimental reference point rather than a space worthy of artistic investment. Tours arrive everywhere except home. Appearances are promised and quietly or even publicly postponed or cancelled. In that context, the Raj sisters’ visible return to Chennai feels deliberate. It signals a refusal to treat India as an afterthought, and a reminder that global success does not require cultural distance.
“Our fashion, food, music, and everything else are so vibrant and cool. I hope young kids see this, and they feel empowered and proud,” Rhea adds.
That empowerment is where the Raj sisters quietly become icons of South Indian representation. Not because they explain their culture, but because they live within it unapologetically.
What the Raj sisters ultimately offer is not a reimagining of South Indian identity, but a refusal to shrink it. They remind us that representation does not always arrive loudly or neatly packaged. Sometimes it arrives through presence, through choosing to come back home and be seen as you are. And this paramount representation is quite revolutionary.





