Priyanka Chopra Explains Why She Didn’t Want to Settle for the ‘Exotic’ Indian Character

It’s 2:09 P.M., and I’m running through New York City’s La Guardia Airport with a suitcase on my head. An exit sign glows in the distance, and I hurdle children to get to it, whispering, Priyanka Chopra, Priyanka Chopra, like a path-clearing mantra. I have 51 minutes to get to Ms. Chopra’s Manhattan apartment, and it isn’t looking good.

Say “Priyanka Chopra” to the average American woman and you might get an ode to her endorsement-worthy hair, a take on what makes her so compulsively watchable as agent Alex Parrish in ABC’s drama Quantico, or speculation about whom she is dating. Say her name to the average Indian American woman, like me, and you’ll get a proud earful about why “our girls” are so beautiful, which of her 50 Hindi movies is best, and what her presence as the first Indian lead on a major U.S. network show means for our future. All of which is to say, Chopra is already causing quite a commotion. And now, making her U.S. film debut as villain Victoria Leeds in this summer’s action comedy Baywatch, she’s poised to bring some much-needed diversity to the Hollywood big screen.

This is a particularly interesting moment for an immigrant to be fronting a TV show and appearing in a quintessentially American movie, a fact not lost on Chopra, who understands how essential seeing a face like hers can be for the millions of Americans who don’t fit the blond-haired, blue-eyed Californian ideal. “Kids from all over—not just Indians—come talk to me,” she says. “I met this Dominican girl the other day who said, ‘Everyone tells me that I look like you.’ She gave me a hug, and said, ‘You gave me the strength to stand up onstage and give a presentation in school on where I came from.’ ”

My inner teenage girl quakes a little when I hear this story. As someone who grew up seeing almost no one who looked like me on TV—who understands how this seemingly small thing can change what you dare to dream possible for yourself—I can’t help but feel relieved for the legions of girls and women coming up with Chopra in the mainstream. And it occurs to me, as I cut the taxi line and yell, “Meeting with Priyanka Chopra!” to my South Asian driver (who yells, “Meeting with Priyanka Chopra!” back to me before peeling out), that in some way I have been waiting to see her my whole life. Half an hour later, I’m breathless, sweaty, a little dizzy—but on time—as Ms. Chopra walks across her living room toward me, smiling. “Come, come,” she says, pulling me into an embrace that makes all of it worth it. “We’re huggers here.”

GLAMOUR: Let’s get one thing out first: You didn’t wear the iconic red swimsuit [while filming Baywatch], right?

PRIYANKA CHOPRA: I didn’t have to be in the swimsuits, because I’m the antagonist.

GLAMOUR: Were you sad not to wear it?

PC: Oh my God, I’m so glad I didn’t have to eat one olive and one, like, almond! No. [Laughs.]

GLAMOUR: That’s fantastic. What did India make of Baywatch, back when it was happening?

PC: In India Baywatch became a symbol of the quintessential American dream in the nineties. Seeing the glory of California, the sun, and beaches—and beautiful people—and you’re like, “Whoa.”

GLAMOUR: Tell me about playing the villain, Victoria Leeds.

PC: I take over the beach. I open up a club. I’m this big shot billionaire chick who plays hardball in a man’s world. And what I love about Victoria is that she’s not baselessly evil. She thinks she’s just driven. She had the business acumen, but her family business went to her brother, because he was a boy. So she has a point to prove. There’s this amazing line in the [script]: Zac [Efron] says, “You’re such a bitch!” And I’m like, “If I were a man, you’d call me driven.”

GLAMOUR: I love the bitch boss in movies. I find it cathartic to watch. Was it fun to play that?

PC: Yeah. Victoria goes into an evil territory; not every driven woman’s evil. [But] ambition is a word associated with women negatively. People say, “She’s too ambitious.” Why is that a bad thing?

GLAMOUR: In your own life, you’ve said your parents treated you and your brother pretty equally.

PC: My parents were really progressive. My dad was a surgeon in the Indian army. My mom is a double M.D.; she’s an ENT/ob-gyn. Go figure. Way to set your kids up for failure, you know? [Laughs.]

GLAMOUR: Overachievers! And you moved to America to live with your aunt when you were 12, right? How did that come about?

PC: My mom, my brother, and I came for summer vacation to be with my mausi—my aunt—and my cousins. I went with my cousin to her school, and it was so fascinating to me. Nobody wore uniforms. You had lockers. What my cousin was studying was really easy. I was like, “OK, I don’t even have to study, and I would get A’s.” So I had this devious plan in my head. I sat with my mom, and I’m like, “I want to go to school here. Mausi’s OK with it.” I shuttled between my aunt and uncle. I lived in Iowa, then New York, then Indianapolis, and then Boston.

GLAMOUR: Was it a shock to leave India?

PC: A huge shock the first year, but I’m adaptable. In India my dad was in the army, and we’d move every two years. He said, “Every new city, you can decide who you want to be. If you were not good at debates in one school, you can be a dancer in the next one.” I used to plan what my personality would be when I got to the next school.

GLAMOUR: It was like you were auditioning for a new life. So why did you go back to India [in eleventh grade]?

PC: There was this girl who was a major bully. I think she didn’t like me because her boyfriend liked me, or some high school dynamic. She made my life hell. She used to call me names and would push me against the locker. High school’s hard for everybody, and then there’s this woman. I asked my mom, “What do you think about me coming back?” She flew down and picked me up.

GLAMOUR: Did you always get a lot of attention [for your looks]?

PC: After 15.

GLAMOUR: Did you welcome it, or was it awkward?

PC: Oh, it was great for my ego. Before 15, I had a lot of self-esteem issues. I was very conscious of the color of my skin. I was very conscious of being, like, a super-gawky, skinny teenager.

GLAMOUR: You were conscious of your skin color here, or in India?

PC: India, because there, you’re prettier if you’re fairer.

GLAMOUR: But you’re not considered fair?

PC: No, dude. I’m, like, dusky.

GLAMOUR: I’m several shades darker than you, so to me, you’re fair. For people who don’t know, what feelings go with the label “dusky”?

PC: A lot of girls who have a darker skin hear things like, “Oh, poor thing, she’s dark. Poor thing, it’ll be hard for her.” In India they advertise skin-lightening creams: “Your skin’s gonna get lighter in a week.” I used it [when I was very young]. Then when I was an actor, around my early twenties, I did a commercial for a skin-lightening cream. I was playing that girl with insecurities. And when I saw it, I was like, “Oh shit. What did I do?” And I started talking about being proud of the way I looked. I actually really like my skin tone.

GLAMOUR: What about being dark in America? What is the baggage that comes with it here?

PC: Well, first off, I don’t think a lot of people understand what Indians are. And that’s our fault, a little. We tend to forget our roots a bit. As kids [we think], If I’m too Indian, I’ll be put in a box, and people will think of me as different. They’ll think I’m weird, because I eat Indian food or my name is difficult to pronounce.

GLAMOUR: There’s always the fear of smelling like curry.

PC: That girl in school used to call me Curry. You’re scared of those things. We’re afraid of letting people see the glory of who we are.

GLAMOUR: I’ve been thinking about this so much lately, because of the recent upswing in violence toward minorities, specifically Indian Americans. There’s this idea of the model minority—of being quiet and being accepted.

PC: And trying not to make a ripple. Staying in your lane—I heard that so much. I want to make my lane! And yes, it’s an extremely scary time. Maybe I, being on the platform that I am, can say this louder than the kid who has to get on the subway and go to school: You don’t need to be afraid of who you are. I don’t want any kid to feel the way I felt in school. I was afraid of my bully. It made me feel like I’m less—in my skin, in my identity, in my culture.

GLAMOUR: So you got a talent deal with ABC in 2014. As you were thinking about projects in the U.S., what were your parameters?

PC: I said, you know, “I’m not gonna settle.”

GLAMOUR: What would settling look like?

PC: I did not want to be the stereotype of either Bollywood or what Indian actors are [usually offered]. The exotic, beautiful girl, or the academically inclined nerd. And I wanted to play a lead…. And I’m playing an FBI agent on Quantico. I didn’t settle for less.

GLAMOUR: Indian women and Indian American women get very sensitive to the word exotic.

PC: Right. We can call ourselves that. You can’t call us that.

GLAMOUR: I love that you say that. Why?

PC: When somebody else calls you exotic, exotic is a box—it’s the stereotype of snake charmers and face jewelry. You’re just that stereotype. But I don’t get offended anymore. I used to get offended by things that were said to me, or how I was seen. Now I educate. If I get pissed off, I’ll educate in a sassy way. Other times I educate in a Gandhi-like way. You know—I have my moods. [Laughs.]

GLAMOUR: What would offend you? Give me a sassy education.

PC: So once, on an airplane [in Europe], I went up to go to the bathroom, and the [flight attendant] was like, “Oh, the bathroom’s back there.” And I was like, “No, it’s right there.” He was like, “Oh, that’s just for first class.” I was like, “I’m sitting in first class.” And he was like, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” And I just said, “It’s OK. I’m sure you haven’t seen many of us, but a lot of us travel first class.”

GLAMOUR: Did it feel kind of great?

PC: It did. And then we laughed. I [also] used to get upset with the word Bollywood, and what it means [in] the West. The stereotype of us being dancing, singing, puppet showgirls. [Indians] are nearly one fifth of the world’s population; we have one of the most prolific film industries in the world. When people used to ask me about it, or replicate what they think is Bollywood dancing, thinking that they’re being funny, I used to get offended. But now I show them the stuff we do.

GLAMOUR: When you moved back to America in 2015 for Quantico, you were a huge star, just not here. Was it weird going from being very known somewhere to a new market in which you weren’t as known?

PC: It wasn’t weird to me. Just because people who like Indian movies know me doesn’t mean the world has to know me. What affected me was after Quantico was picked up. I was like, “Oh crap, if I don’t do well, people will be like, ‘Oh my God, Indian actors can’t do lead parts.’ ” I felt that pressure.

GLAMOUR: How do you feel now? Do you still feel pressure?

PC: After reaching season two, having done a film, and receiving acknowledgment in America, I feel like now whatever I do will be on me. My choices will be mine; my disappointments will be mine.

GLAMOUR: Do you feel like you’ve set a new standard for what an Indian actress can achieve here?

PC: I don’t know about a standard, but I do hope having done what I did, and America having accepted me the way they did, opens the door for more global talent, which should have representation in global entertainment.

GLAMOUR: We talked a lot about family before. You lost your father a few years ago. At the time you said that it hadn’t felt real to you yet. Do you still feel that way?

PC: Weirdly, yeah. You make friends with grief. My dad was my biggest cheerleader. Any awards show, he would be my date. Every time I won anything, he’d be like, “Yeah!” as if he’d won. I was like, “Dad, just turn it down by 10.” [Laughs.] He enjoyed my achievements more than I did.

GLAMOUR: Parents feel it on a cellular level. OK, but speaking of dates, what is your current situation? Are you single?

PC: Me to know, and you to find out. [Laughs.] I’ve always been someone who’s kept my private life a little private. When there’s a ring on my finger, I’ll talk about it.

GLAMOUR: Let’s say you could make the perfect partner for yourself, using parts—personality traits, talents, body parts—of costars. Give me your perfect person.

PC: Oh shit. [Laughs.] OK, Dwayne [Johnson]’s drive. I find drive in men very attractive, OK? Also, Dwayne’s gentlemanly pull-out-a-chair-for-a-girl vibe. Mix that with Zac’s abs, Jake McLaughlin’s eyes, and my coactor in India Ranveer Singh’s rebelliousness.

GLAMOUR: I like all of it. Also, you have the best hair on the planet. What do you do?

PC: Great genes. I believe in oil massages for the scalp, an Indian thing. And weirdly, beer and eggs are incredible conditioners.

GLAMOUR: You mix beer and eggs and put it on your head? Does it smell weird?

PC: Like four in the morning on a Saturday after you’ve come home from a bar and made yourself breakfast. [Laughs.]

GLAMOUR: Wait—you put that in, wash it out, and then just…not get near anyone for a little while?

PC: No, you shampoo it off!

GLAMOUR: Important step. Hair envy aside, your presence shows a [group] of women that they’re not invisible. What advice would you give to women nervous about stepping out into a world that doesn’t yet know what to make of them?

PC: It’s a scary place. You will be rejected. I was rejected many times. I cried. I was told that female actors are replaceable in films because they just stand behind a guy anyway. I’m still used to being paid—like most actresses around the world—a lot less than the boys. We’re told we’re too provocative or that being sexy is our strength, which it can be, and it is, but that’s not the only thing we have. So there are so many things that you will be told. It’ll be scary. There will be strife. But women have incredible endurance and incredible strength. Your ability to deal with it is within you.

Mira Jacob is the author of the novel The Sleepwalker’s Guide to Dancing and the forthcoming graphic memoir Good Talk: Conversations I’m Still Confused About.

Photographs by: Sebastian Kim
Stylist: Vanessa Chow

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