Up Close
We Can’t Stop Watching Barbie Ferreira
The Faces of Death and Mile End Kicks star has some hard-earned tips for navigating Hollywood: avoid overexposure, ignore the discourse, and keep your inner fangirl close.

They say it never rains in Southern California, yet here we are and it’s storming. Barbie Ferreira is curled on a pool lounger, half-sheltered by an umbrella designed for sunnier days. A thunderbolt strikes dangerously close to the in-ground jacuzzi, illuminating the movie star’s famously doll-like features. Even off-duty and mid-downpour, Ferreira finds her light.
Flirting with death by electrocution wasn’t originally on the agenda. We pivoted from a scene-y Italian spot to her home as the actor rides out a brutal bout of cramps — although even on her best days, Ferreira tends to avoid the industry’s favorite haunts. Consequently, the town’s talent comes to her. I’m met at the gate by Isaiah Lehtinen, her co-star in Mile End Kicks — one of two Ferreira-led films currently in theaters. A painfully relatable tale of an American Apparel-clad music writer circa 2011 who falls for an indie-rock frontman, the movie makes a strong case for the health of the rom-com in 2026. Judging by the oscillating groans and giggles at the movie’s premiere, it’s also further proof of Ferreira’s capacity to captivate.
Her other project is a tonal 180: Faces of Death, a reimagining of the 1978 horror film co-starring Dacre Montgomery, Josie Totah, and Charli XCX. “Honestly, I believed myself,” she says of recently watching it in a theater alongside paying customers. “I’ve always wanted to do that — just go to the theater and watch like I did as a kid. That was my first time doing it for my own work.”
For Ferreira, 29, this was always the plan. The former Tumblr muse is one of the blueprints for the social-to-mainstream media pipeline. Raised by an immigrant family in tough, tight quarters in Queens, she set her sights on a career in entertainment early on in her childhood. Blessed with drop-dead Brazilian beauty, she came of age at the precipice of the 2010s’ body positivity push, resulting in a viral swimsuit campaign and an unexpected role as a mouthpiece for the movement. But Ferreira always knew she had the goods to carry her beyond modeling and into TV and movies, and in 2018 — after a few months of auditions — she landed a coveted role on HBO’s Euphoria.
“I try to be myself, even if people are like, ‘What is this bitch on?’ I’m not on anything — maybe just a Celsius.”
It feels redundant to keep Euphoria and Barbie Ferreira in the same sentence, but the show’s continued grip on the culture, as well as Ferreira’s beloved portrayal of Kat, requires acknowledgement. After two seasons on the show, she and creator Sam Levinson parted ways professionally; Ferreira has described it as a “mutual decision” but says that, in the wake of her departure, navigating an uncertain future in the industry felt like a “big shock to the system.” As it turns out, the show’s loss was our gain: The same week the series’ long-awaited third season arrived to decidedly bleak reviews, both the Ferreira-produced Mile End Kicks and Faces of Death — a film she shot three years ago — hit theaters. “It was a big lesson in having a public career: I have no control over public opinion,” she says now. “I had to practice big acceptance… I’ve obviously never been through a public discourse like that.”
Being in Barbie Ferreira’s orbit feels like stepping into the sun after underdressing for the day. She thinks aloud at a near-manic clip, her laugh is rich and guttural, and — most striking of all — she seems completely unbothered by the visibility competition that consumes much of young Hollywood. Perhaps that’s why, when she does surface at a Jean Paul Gaultier show in Paris or on the Oscars red carpet, it’s headline news. Here she is, at long last, on the big screen — and below, in a revealing, wide-ranging conversation about finding her own way through Hollywood.
You just went out to the desert, but no Coachella, right?
I can’t do Coachella, mostly because I don’t like getting out of Coachella. Even if you plan it, there’s nothing you can do about the “Coachella chaos” of it all. When I went for Lana [Del Rey in 2024], I totally put up with any foot pain that I had, any dehydration. I was like, “I am here to see Lana.”
I listened to your episode of Charli XCX’s Best Song Ever from 2021. You recommended Lana, and a lot of Nicki Minaj — you also described yourself as Nicki’s “No. 1 Barb” back then. So I have to ask, how are you holding up now?
Oh, not great. A lot of girls can relate to this right now. It’s very hard.
When an artist’s values diverge from ours, the fan gets punished because we lose the music.
I actually never even thought of it that way. That’s a smart way to put it. And it happens historically so often. It happens with movies, too. It’s an interesting conversation we’re having in society: Now that we have access to all this information about people, who do we put money in the pockets of — and who do we choose not to? I don’t think there is a right answer yet.
Nuance is something that we have a hard time with as a culture.
Oh, of course. We can’t really have conversations on the internet without getting into big debates and fights with people that you're not even seeing in person. There’s such a difference between talking to someone in person and on the internet. I wonder where society is going to land with that, because all of our favorite people are just humans — they’re going to have crazy lives, and we don’t know until it plays out.
You seem like you have a healthy grasp on being famous.
Honestly, being an actor has been so interesting because everyone projects something onto you. I grew up in a non-Hollywood environment, and I’m Brazilian, so I’m a big fan of everything. I grew up as a fan of film, TV, and pop stars. It’s just so different when you’re on the other side. You get to meet people that you have projected an image of for so long, and then you don’t know who they really are until you meet them. I actually try to avoid meeting people that I love.
Do you ever get starstruck?
I get starstruck with people like Nathan Fielder. I saw him at a party and just proclaimed, “I love you, Nathan Fielder!” and walked away. I also love people on YouTube. I’ll always be starstruck by people I see on my phone. When Jessica Lange came to my play [Cult of Love on Broadway], my breath was taken away. [My co-star] Zachary Quinto knew I was freaking out and suggested a group picture. In the photo, her eyes are closed, so I can never post it because I’m not her opp, but I keep it for my own heart.
Have you ever met Harry Styles? Because you were a One Direction girl.
I have never met Harry Styles in my adulthood. I’m sure I did in a meet-and-greet at the mall when I was 15, but not at a party or anything as an adult. No. I almost feel like I shouldn’t. I loved him so much growing up. I’m sure he’s a nice fella and would live up to the hype, but I’d feel embarrassed because I’m like, “I had pictures of you on my wall.”
I think that separates you, the fact that you’re not “too cool” to be a fan.
I tell people to their face all the time. If I am genuinely a fan of someone, I think it’s weird not to tell them. Unless the situation is professional and they’re busy, I’ll say, “I’m a huge fan of yours, I love your work.” I think that’s better than pretending you don’t know who they are.
“I like to conduct my acting career like I’m a pop star — curating an image, the glamor of making a persona. The older I get, the more the two become one.”
Have you ever had any really underwhelming response? Just, “Yeah, OK. Thanks.”
No, but I think most people find it hard to take a compliment. I’ve found myself having problems taking a compliment, especially about acting. It’s so vulnerable. You objectively can’t see your own performance. I think that’s why a lot of actors don’t watch their own movies. You can’t see yourself as a different character the way others do.
You see yourself “acting”?
Sometimes. I can never fully see what other people see because I know exactly how the sausage was made. Every single beat reminds me of something behind the scenes. I feel like I objectively can’t watch my work with fresh eyes.
How was being in a horror film?
It was so fun. It’s my emo girl dream. I’ve always wanted to do horror. It makes me want to dive into that space more because it’s really dark and physical.
It must wear you down mentally, since your body probably doesn’t know the difference.
Am I a freak for loving it? It was physically demanding — fighting, running through woods, falling. It was 15 hours of that every day. I’d come home covered in bruises. Ironically, I twisted my ankle in a scene that had nothing to do with action. I was literally just walking down the block, and the sidewalk was messed up. But it was so fun. I’ve been manifesting being a scream queen every year. [My character] Margot is such an interesting scream queen because it’s out of pocket for her. She’s a type A office girl. She’s not a damsel, but she’s also not the “promiscuous girl” that usually gets killed off in slashers.
Paris Hilton in House of Wax.
I f*cking love that movie. She ate that role. But in those older movies, the virgin always wins at the end. The first to go was the promiscuous woman or the “dumb blonde.” It worked as a popcorn movie then, but it reflects where we were as a society. There’s none of that in this movie. It’s very contemporary. Margot is a stick in the mud who takes her job seriously. The unraveling of someone that type A is a very fresh take for the horror space.
You’re taking on two iconic genres with a slasher and a rom-com. There’s been so much discourse about the death of the rom-com. When you got the script, did you feel like it was a tall order?
This is an indie. My favorite part about indies is that I never think about the box office. If you make something cheap and do it well, it doesn’t matter if it makes a billion dollars. When I read the script, I wanted to do it because I’m a fan of movies like Bridget Jones's Diary. It also felt culturally relevant to do a movie about the 2011 indie sleaze era. People yearn for a time before the surveillance state of phones. Back then, we had laptops and Facebook, but the phone wasn’t a constant part of the party.
“I have never dated an actor. I only know how to date normal-ish people. To impress me, you need a real personality and real life.”
You came up online, but on TikTok now, you’re so reserved. You don’t overshare. What’s changed from your Tumblr days?
First of all, I don’t even know how to make self-shot content. I try for brands, and they’re always like, “You need to redo this.” I have no idea what works. Being a content creator is a real skill that I don’t have. On Tumblr, you were just posting a selfie or a joke. I didn’t have to be the editor and cinematographer. I’m a bit hesitant with the internet now because I’m almost a 30-year-old woman and my job is public. It’s no longer an outlet for me. There’s no context or continuity — if I make a joke about my movie, people might not even know about the movie and get confused.
Back then it was a monoculture — now it’s so stratified.
I like putting funny, goofy sh*t on the internet, but as an actor, no one needs to know everything about my life. It takes people out of the performance.
You are so charismatic on camera that it feels like a waste not to show your personality, but I understand the tug-of-war of wanting people to believe your characters.
Look at Jennifer Lawrence — she had an incredible personality and was funny and goofy, and people were really hard on her for it. Women are often told to be smaller in this job. I try to be myself, even if people are like, “What is this bitch on?” I’m not on anything — maybe just a Celsius. I’m an expressive theater kid. I try to show my personality in contained spots, like on podcasts with people I actually like.
I think Jennifer Lawrence was also a victim of overexposure.
It’s hard. I don’t know what it’s like at that level, but just because she doesn’t look like Jack Black doesn’t mean she isn't hilarious. I’ve always been a freak — I was voted Drama Queen in my yearbook. They wanted me to dial it down, but now I’m in show business, so it’s perfect.
“People aren’t used to watching women age. They look at an actress in her 40s or 50s and ask, ‘What happened to her face?’ Hollywood hates what it wants and wants what it hates.”
Is it crazy to have two movies premieres at once?
Totally. We shot Faces of Death years ago and Mile End Kicks about a year and a half ago. The fact that they are out the same week is really funny. I’m trying to juggle both, but they are so different, I don’t get confused.
It must be weird timing with the new season of Euphoria premiering this week.
It’s funny timing. I don’t know what that means from the universe.
Will you watch the new season?
I haven’t watched it yet, but I am going to see it. I want to see where the characters go and I love the girls. I don't think [any of the actors know] what’s going on — I think they only get their specific sides of the script.
You left the show before The Idol came out and critical consensus on Sam Levinson really turned. Considering the reports that there was tension between you two, do you feel vindicated at all now that the internet has a different sentiment toward him?
I don’t even know. The internet is so fickle — sometimes they hate me, sometimes they like me. Everything that happened was out of my control.
Now, Labrinth, who did the music for the first two seasons, has come out railing against the show and Sam.
That’s what I didn’t expect at all. People ask me, but I literally don’t know what's going on at all. That sh*t is locked up, and honestly, I don’t ask or pry. I never actually said anything about the show. All I said was I’m not on it anymore, and I told people why: The story ended.
And you’ve clarified that you didn’t walk off set.
Yeah, I never walked off. I sprained my ankle. It was one of those rumors that just spread. It was so funny to me because I’m such a people pleaser. I have never been late to anything in my life. I’m the dork who’s there before people are even setting up. I eventually addressed that rumor on Dax Shepard’s Armchair Expert because it was so wildly outside of my own scope. I think people just want drama.
People wanted clarity, too — you were a fan favorite, and they were like, “How could this storyline not come to fruition?”
I felt like I didn’t even have to address it because Season 2 spoke for itself. I’m not the writer or the producer — I don’t have that control.
I heard you once say there is “Barbie” and there’s “Barbara.” Do you still feel that distinction?
I like to conduct my acting career like I’m a pop star — not in the sense of being a “star,” but in curating an image and an album. I love the glamor of making a persona. The older I get, the more the two become one. Authenticity is more important now. Acting now is about selling yourself as a brand. Studios used to do that for you, like Lana Turner. Now, people want you to be personable.
The number one thing people ask me about meeting anyone: Are they nice?
I love asking that. No matter who it is, I’m like, “Are they nice?”
“I didn’t have anyone to get me an agent, so I emailed people when I was 10 pretending to be my mother.”
[The sky booms, the rain continues.] Is there seriously a thunderstorm in Los Angeles right now?
This is so ominous! Write that down: “It started to thunder as she got darker.” But regarding niceness — you never know what’s going on in someone’s life. I’ve had days where I’m faking a smile at the Q&A because of personal stuff. I like to know if someone is nice to the people who aren’t famous. That’s everything.
You’re in a relationship with someone not in entertainment. How does that compare to dating a creative?
I have never dated an actor. I only know how to date normal-ish people. To impress me, you need a real personality and real life. I grew up in a different place than a lot of people in Hollywood. I’m an immigrant kid from New York who watched people hustle their way out of their situations. I don’t search for the next “it” person to date. And I hate PR relationships — I could never do that. I want to be like Tilda Swinton.
You’re not at Sushi Park.
Actually, I am at Sushi Park — just no one takes a picture because no one cares! I don’t date famous people, so it’s a wonderful peace. Let’s keep it that way.
You’re openly queer. How is it to be in a hetero-presenting relationship now?
I’ve always dated both. I grew up in a very open-minded family. My aunt is a lesbian and my mom is very “open to the gays.” I never even had to come out; it was a “whatever” moment. I don’t see a huge difference in relationships based on gender because people are so unique.
There’s sometimes pushback from the community when celebrities identify as queer, then have opposite-sex relationships. Have you ever felt that?
I just don’t think people care who I’m dating! I’ve been photographed by paparazzi on a date and they literally cropped the person out. They were like, “Is that her driver?”
How has your relationship to fame evolved?
My response to stress is to stay home. I will hermit, and that’s OK. I live my life, I just don’t do flashy things. I’ll be at the Renaissance Faire, though — I go every year. I do a little skirt and a corset and sit at the joust. I love wholesome fun because I grew up too fast.
You had your 2nd birthday party at a drag bar, right?
Exactly. I think because I grew up too fast in New York City, I’ve never been into partying; I only did it at 17 because I was ambitious and wanted to meet collaborators.
What were you ambitious for back then?
Acting. Always. I’ve wanted to be an actress since I was 5. I watched House and Law & Order as a kid and thought, “This is cool.” I did theater at the Boys and Girls Club for underprivileged children. I didn’t have anyone to get me an agent, so I emailed people when I was 10 pretending to be my mother.
So modeling was just the foot in the door?
Yes. I started modeling to get into acting. Then I did the VICE show and Teen Vogue videos because they wanted me on camera talking. My mom still cries about it every day — I really grew up in a poor setting: immigrant mom and grandma, no dad, one bathroom for five people in Queens. My grandma cleaned houses to pay the rent. I knew I needed to get out of there. My survival was more important than my growth.
So at 20, you felt modeling was becoming stagnant?
At 20, I felt like my time was running out. Modeling can make you feel washed at 24. I had to get back to the path of what I really wanted to do. I realized going back to acting was what I really wanted to do. I got caught up in the fashion industry for a couple of years — it wasn’t anything crazy, but I knew I needed to focus on what was next because I knew modeling wouldn’t be forever.
People seem to feel a sense of ownership over curve models; they want to keep you at a certain size because that’s who you are to them. Is that hard to navigate?
It’s hard because my whole family fluctuates in weight. I started modeling at 16, and I’ve looked different every year for over a decade. It’s very trendy right now to talk about women’s bodies, which is exactly why I personally don’t talk about it. There is so much discourse around what I look like — and what other women look like — all the time. As women, we are in a losing game. If we’re too small or too big, we lose. We are human beings who fluctuate. I gain weight, I lose weight; that’s just my life. I didn’t realize people would be so hyper-fixated on it.
When I searched your name, the top auto-complete search terms were “Barbie Ferreira weight loss.”
And before that, it was “Barbie Ferreira weight gain.” There’s never a moment where it stops. People talk about weight gain from my Tumblr days — I was 14 years old in my mother’s room! Of course I’m going to look different. Back then, I spoke a lot about body positivity because I had to. People asked me about my activism when I was just a kid. I didn’t even know what activism meant. I’d put on a bikini for a campaign, everyone would get mad, and suddenly I was an activist. I’m 17 years old thinking, Sure, I’ll be an activist if that’s what you want. But I don’t think that’s what true activism is. Real activism is dedicating your life to a cause. I just believe people should be reflected in the media as they are. My career continues to do that.
I remember losing weight in my mid-20s and becoming addicted to people commenting on it.
That’s the trap. That’s why unhealthy eating patterns continue — you want people to think you look good. It’s funny how people never say “you look great” when someone gains weight. I honestly believe many people would look great if they gained some weight! But the comments are constant. I could be in character as someone else or just being myself, and the focus is always on my body. It feels like my cross to bear.
Do you think that’s the same for every actress coming up right now?
I think it’s popular with anyone who has evolved or changed. People aren’t used to watching people age. They look at an actress in her 40s or 50s and ask, “What happened to her face?” Hollywood hates what it wants and wants what it hates. It’s a losing battle, so I don’t do anything according to the internet. I don’t want to give more dialogue to weight loss or weight gain because it perpetuates an unhealthy society. If we just keep focusing on looks, we all end up hating ourselves or becoming botched versions of ourselves. The internet can argue the sky is purple all day; it doesn’t matter.
“Marilyn Monroe would be like, ‘I’m 12,’ and the studios loved it because there was no Wikipedia to fact-check.”
You probably feel a responsibility not to influence young girls in the wrong way.
That responsibility comes from my own moral compass. I grew up in the 2000s when things were going awry. You’d see pictures of women in compromising situations at the grocery store, or people on E! News disparaging women’s bodies. It was so normal. We are getting back to that now, and it’s so boring. My body has never been the most interesting thing about me. I’m just an average woman. I haven’t broken any Guinness World Records.
That was the radical thing, the fact that you weren’t a size zero.
And what’s interesting is that I just can’t be that small. I wasn’t built like that. I still want to be an actress — is that not allowed anymore? European and foreign films have shown people of all sizes for so long. It’s an inherently American thing where you have to look a certain way for certain roles. Even though I’m a “yassified” version of a character because I used to be a model, I’m often cast as the frumpy lady. I have no ego when it comes to character. I cut my hair, I don’t wear makeup — I honor the character. I don’t think about what people will think of me because my priority is realism. That’s why I like indie movies; I like seeing people who look like people.
It seems like you’ve figured out how to do Hollywood in a way that works for you: taking brand deals for “bread and butter” so you can be discerning with your art.
I love doing that. I’ve been very blessed. I can design for Levi’s or do a campaign for Gap — small time commitments for enough money to survive so I can then do an indie movie or a Broadway play. Actresses have always found other forms of income, and now we’re in the brand-deal space. I only work with brands I truly like. Because of my history in fashion and my social media engagement, I’m in a lucky position to do both. I don’t have to take an L and move the whole family back into one apartment. We’re not doing that anymore.
When you’ve experienced poverty, it stays in your bones.
It’s in my bones. I notice that it’s the people who didn’t grow up poor who are the most stingy. They’ll Venmo you for a $5 coffee when they’re rich as sh*t.
I still see the fear in my mother, a fear many people are blessed not to have. I hope my kids never feel that strain. In New York, we had a small apartment with bed bugs — I could feel the sense of anxiety everywhere. I thought moving to the suburbs would fix it, but the anxiety was still in the house. I’m an adult who needs calm, which is why I like LA.
How are you feeling about turning 30?
My mom is 51, so she’s super young. She told me, “You’re old,” and I was like, “I’m old as f*ck!” I still feel 16 sometimes, but the more I age, the better my life gets. Last year was calm — Pilates, saunas, cooking, and taking care of myself. Now it’s go time with upcoming projects. I think I was born to be 30. Even at 10, I had an old soul.
We used to have a 25-year-old cutoff for celebrities. Now so many celebrities are killing it in their 30s.
Most of them lied about their age back in the day anyway! I research pin-up girls and old Hollywood; all those women were lying, getting plastic surgery, and dealing with sh*tty boyfriends. Men would say, “We can’t say you’re 30, that’s gross.” Now, the illusion is breaking because of how much information we have. Marilyn Monroe would be like, “I’m 12,” and the studios loved it because there was no Wikipedia to fact-check.
Do you have any interest in writing or directing?
Writing seems fun, but I really want to direct. I’d love to work with a great writer on something funny. At my age and experience level, I’d definitely want to collaborate on a script.
I’m excited to see what you do.
Bitch, we got to do it.
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.
Top image credit: The Archive X Yana vintage jacket, bra and necklace; Charvet top; Norma Kamali pants; Jude shoes.
Photographer: Davis Bates
Stylist: Stephanie Sanchez
Writer: Beatrice Hazlehurst
Editor-in-Chief: Charlotte Owen
Editorial Director: Christina Amoroso
Creative Director: Karen Hibbert
Hair: Sylvia Wheeler
Makeup: Melissa Hernandez
Video: Rachel Chapman
Photo Director: Jackie Ladner
Production: Kiara Brown, Danielle Smit
Fashion Market Director: Jennifer Yee
Fashion: Ashirah Curry, Noelia Rojas-West
Features Director: Nolan Feeney
Social Director: Charlie Mock
Talent Bookings: Special Projects