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<h1 class="full">Uorfi (she added the ‘o’ to her name because a numerologist told her to, and while she’s not a big believer in this stuff, she admits it seems to have worked for her) is a little unsure of me when we first meet, which is understandable. I’m a shit-talker-poster-stirrer on the internet, even I would be unsure of me. Let’s just say I’m an acquired taste. But then, so is she.</h1>

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<h1 class="left">People tend to start off disliking Uorfi, because we’ve been taught to dislike women who say and do exactly what they want and give zero fucks. Then you see her calling out those who talk shit about her no matter how famous or influential they are. You see how much she loves playing with fashion and wearing clothes she makes and enjoys. You see her sense of humour and how she takes the piss out of everything. And something shifts. Your Uorfication begins.</h1>

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<h1 class="centre">I messaged that other Insta sensation, Diet Sabya (who coined the word), now Uorfi’s biggest champion, to ask when and why their opinion of her changed. “When she started wearing copies of designer clothes, we called her out on it. She messaged us and said she didn’t have money, she didn’t have access, she didn’t have anyone giving her clothes, she DIYed everything she wore. That’s what changed things. The more we watched her, the more we liked her. She’s pure GUTS. No holds barred. Will do whatever it takes. Loves couture, loves fashion. Is clearly obsessed with making her mark, is doing it her way. And why the fuck not?”</h1>

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<h1 class="full">It took Uorfi some time to understand that copying designers wasn’t right for her to do as she became more famous. “I’m from a small town, we would see clothes in movies and ask our tailors to copy them because we didn’t have money to buy the original. It was very normal to do, in fact it was seen as a good thing,” she says, “Now I can actually afford designer clothes so I buy them — I bought Mugler, bhenchod.” She grins, proud. Uorfi is a bit socially anxious but comfortably herself as the dirty team sits around discussing which designers she wants to collaborate with for the cover shoot, on which she has a crystal point of view. Between bites of strawberry and chocolate cake because she’s addicted to sugar she picks this look from that collection, declares this designer isn’t her style, that one doesn’t inspire her. There’s also a layer of defensive bravado, which isn’t entirely unexpected considering the deluge of hate (all of it unnecessary and unwarranted) that she faces on a daily basis. After all, Uorfi Javed deals in the most vilified social currency of all — attention. We love slagging people (Uorfi) off for craving attention, for loving it, for chasing it. But it’s a scarlet letter she wears lightly. “I didn’t get any attention when I was young, so now I want it from the whole world. This is childhood trauma,” she snickers. “Who doesn’t want attention, Aishwarya? Look at this industry, which actor doesn’t want attention? Why so many PR gimmicks for every movie promotion? Why do you want to get into this industry if you don’t want attention? You want to act na, so do theatre? Why do you want to become a movie star? In this industry, the more recognized or popular you are, the more work you get. And the truth is, everyone wants attention. At least I’m open about it.”</h1>

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<h1 class="left">We are sprawled out eating mutton korma (her recipe) and beetroot rotis on the bed of her tiny Goregaon flat. I’m on my third helping while she’s more interested in the cheesecake she claims to have ordered for me. The book she’s currently reading for the second time (she reads to make herself get off the phone) lies by the pillow: Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind. Her flat is bursting at the seams; she needs to move, she wants to move, she’s been trying to move, but no one will rent to her because she’s a single Muslim woman living alone in India — and of course, because she’s Uorfi. “Now I will buy a house,” she says, “You won’t rent to me, fine, I will buy.”</h1>

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<h1 class="right">I have no doubt that she will. You know how you see absolute decision in some people’s eyes? It’s not even hunger or ambition, which can sometimes be a little scary or unhinged. This is far more peaceful. They’ve decided how their lives are going to go, and that is simply what is going to happen. Maybe it is childhood trauma. Because Uorfi has certainly had that. She grew up in a strict, conservative family in Lucknow, the second of 5 kids, and had a very difficult relationship with her father, who was verbally and physically abusive. “He used to beat us a lot, used to beat my mother too. And the verbal abuse was a daily thing. Someone calling you a randi every day, it fucks you up. I attempted suicide also a couple of times,” she says casually, showing me scars on her wrists and telling me how she drank phenyl and had to be taken to hospital. I want to hug her.</h1>

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<h1 class="centre">“I barely left the house, my father wouldn't allow it. But I used to watch a lot of TV, and I was always interested in fashion. I didn’t have a lot of fashion knowledge, but I knew what I wanted to wear. I wanted to look different, I wanted to look the best. Like when I go to a party, everyone turns to look at me.” With no access to trendy clothes, she started making things to wear, sewing a little at home, cutting up T-shirts to make tube tops. When she was 15, her picture was put on a porn site, and the abuse got steadily worse. It was a dark time for her, without sympathy, understanding or support. Everyone around her was calling her a whore, so she did what some of us (me) do when we face trauma — “I decided oh, you think I’m a whore? Fine, watch me be a whore now.” When life at home finally became too much for her to take, she and two of her sisters ran away together. She was 17.</h1>

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<h1 class="left">For a year they lived like vagabonds in Delhi, doing anything they could to get by. Then on a dream and a prayer (if she were religious, which she is not), she came to Bombay and started auditioning for acting roles. “For TV they don’t care so much about acting, they saw my face and gave me roles. But I was a bad actor. I didn’t know how to move, what to do with my hands. So I never got good work… TV didn’t do much for me.” What it did for her, though, was develop her personality. She became outspoken and potty-mouthed (she cusses nonstop when she talks, which I adore). She started going on reality shows and the media finally started showing interest in her a couple of years ago. And last year, things really started picking up.</h1>

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<h1 class="centre">One of the things people ask often about Uorfi is why she wears small clothes. As if it were a reasonable question. “Jo dikhta hai woh bikta hai. Mujhe nai lapetna chadar. Mujhe toh dikhana hai. Meri marzi. I don’t even have anything [gesturing at chest] and I’m so controversial. If I had big boobs and a big ass imagine where I would be. I haven’t shown my nipples. I haven’t shown my vagina. What are you so upset about? I haven’t even sexualised my body the way people do.” She takes a beat, “But I am capitalising on the sexualisation.” A woman exploiting her own exploitation? Revolutionary.</h1>

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<h1 class="right">Crucially, Uorfi has understood the endlessly repeating cycle of fame on the internet — it doesn’t matter what people are saying about you as long as they are talking about you. Negativity and trolling get you far more engagement than praise and popularity do. Be the person they cannot ignore. It’s simple, it’s effective, it never fails. She doesn’t care if she’s the punchline, if she’s a meme. Over 4 million people know who she is.</h1>

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<h1 class="centre">“I want fame. I want money,” she says, the decision already made. “I see myself becoming an entrepreneur. A boss with lots of people working for me.” She already has a team of tailors, a designer who sketches for her, buys fabric and works with the masterji to get it exactly the way she wants. She has a driver and a car, and a bodyguard because men can get rowdy with her. She has the paps absolutely eating out of her hands. Uorfi has come a long way from spending 15 hours a day sewing by hand, dreaming of buying a sewing machine (when she got one, she taught herself how to use it, because of course she did.)</h1>

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<h1 class="left">“All my life I’ve been upset and stressed about money. I never had any, even though I was a rich girl in my head. I really think instead of running after a man, girls should run after money. Because money is not everything, but it is a lot of things. If you have 100 problems, money will solve 99 of them. And anyway it is better to have rich people problems than poor people problems.” Money is freedom. And you can’t buy freedom.</h1>

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<h1 class="right">You also can’t buy personality. You either have it or you don’t. And Uorfi has it in spades. Her parting shot, between bites of cheesecake? “I just want to tell young people: Do what you want. Don’t listen to your parents. Listen to yourself. And don’t try suicide. There’s no point. You will eventually die. Wait for it. It’s coming.” I would say I’m deceased, but really, I’ve been Uorfied.</h1>

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