Rachel Wong remembers everything. The tears she shed in the school toilet; the physical and mental abuse from a close relative; the bullying she faced from her schoolmates. Kids can be cruel, and Wong’s severe acne and mild scoliosis served as targets for her peers to hurl vitriol at.
It’s one reason she refuses to remain silent when she sees injustice, using her social media platforms to call them out. And she’s not afraid to wade into potentially divisive issues, like the Israel-Palestine conflict. Wong regularly reposts facts and figures related to the war and is vocal about her support for Palestine.
“It’s hard for me not to say something. I know it’s not something my singular voice can change. But if I can make a minor difference and help others understand the issue, then that’s good enough,” she says. “If you’re given a voice, you shouldn’t be silent about it.”
Ignorance isn’t an excuse, according to Wong. You have the collective knowledge of the world in your palm, accessible via a few taps on your digital keyboard. She is aware of the commercial implications. She accepts the potential consequences, however.
Her stance is refreshing. The global influencer market has exploded in the past decade. Top names rake in millions of dollars for a single post. According to Statista, in 2023, the industry grew to US$21.1 billion (S$28.4 billion), tripling in value within four years. The financial repercussions of a misspoken word or misplaced opinion, however, have neutered many social media influencers. Wong remains unfazed.
“Therapy really helped me,” says Wong. She talked to a professional. She wrote letters to herself. She went on self-dates, taking her camera and enjoying the expansive, wondrous sights most of us barely glance at, our necks craned over the small screen in our hands instead. She even went on a digital detox of sorts that involved refraining from content consumption.
For a long time, Wong let her past—the bullying and abuse—define her identity. Now she understands those incidents are just other people “not feeling good about themselves” and taking it out on her. The whims of others have no bearing on who she is.
Photo: Joel Low
It’s also why criticism, both offline and online, slides off her like Teflon. In the digital world, the 30-year-old is an old hand. When blogging was all the rage, she started a blog while studying fashion communications at Lasalle College of the Arts.
When Instagram exploded in popularity in the mid-noughties, Wong started an account. Her posts were regularly featured on the Explore tab, which highlighted popular creators and trending images and videos. Her popularity as a bona fide local influencer skyrocketed as her followers grew exponentially.
The concept of making a living through social media only cemented itself, however, when Wong went shopping. “Do you remember Jeffrey Campbell’s Lita shoes?” Wong asks me. The chunky lace-up ankle boots popular in the 2010s polarised fashion opinion and was a ubiquitous feature in the shoe cupboards of many trendy women. “I didn’t come from a well-off family, so I realised I could earn money while studying to buy the things I wanted, like the Litas!”
Her parents have supported her career from the beginning. Her father even breaks out the Internet lingo at the dinner table, much to the embarrassment of his daughter. The word ‘slay’ has recently become his favourite word. Anyone above the age of 35 would think of serial killers, but among the young, ‘slay’ means to make a great impression on someone. The speed of Internet trends, however, has rendered this word obsolete, a literary dinosaur even before it has even reached adolescence.
It also shows the user’s age, in this case, the elder Wong. Regardless, the content creator appreciates her parents for trying their best and giving her space to explore her dreams. Occasionally, she looks at them and realises the sacrifices they had to make to raise her and her sister. To provide their children with a better life, they burned their own aspirations. So, Wong wants to accomplish her goals.
In 2021, at the height of the pandemic, she started a self-care line called Nunu Club, selling several skincare products after her struggle with acne, stickers, and a mug with a Smiley Face.
Photo: Joel Low
The name is based on the Chinese word for girl and is a clarion call for female empowerment. Wong admits that, for a while, she hadn’t been feeling inspired, and that the brand remained dormant for months, save for a collaboration with eco-friendly Cloversoft in June 2023.
She feels refreshed and renewed for 2024, however. Since joining talent management agency Opus, her career is soaring and creativity is coursing through her veins. “I’m launching something new soon. It’s a skincare product I use every day. I don’t think any other small brand has done this before, so I’m excited,” reveals Wong, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She’s already testing samples.
In an industry driven by the fantasies—and perhaps naivete—of youth, she might be categorised as a grandma, but she sees it differently. “When I turned 30, I was incredibly excited because I felt I knew myself so much better than I did eight years ago. My best years are still ahead of me.” One brick at a time, Wong is building her empire on her
mound of trauma.
Read the other cover stories and see their cover shoots in the links below.
Photography Joel Low
Style and Art Direction Chia Wei Choong
Makeup Wee Ming, using Dior Beauty
Hair Christvian Wu, using Kevin.Murphy
Photography Assistant Eddie Teo
Styling Assistants Julia Mae Wong & Caleb Lim
