The Business of Being Seen

The term slay queen gets thrown around a lot, especially in South Africa. It usually refers to women who cultivate glamorous online personas centred on luxury, beauty, and status. The label is almost always used as an insult. The image that comes to mind is someone who is materialistic, obsessed with appearances, and willing to do almost anything for attention and money. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if that description misses what is actually going on.

When I lived in Johannesburg, I often went out in Sandton, where I would regularly see women who fit this image. They always looked impeccably put together, dressed in designer brands, taking photos throughout the night, and moving confidently through spaces associated with wealth and status. At first, it was easy to dismiss it as vanity. But after a while, I started wondering whether I was looking at something more than people simply showing off.

Slay queens seem to exist in a different kind of economy, one where attention is a form of currency. Visibility, influence, and image are not just nice things to have. They are the product. The more attention someone can attract, the more opportunities become available. In that sense, the self becomes both the business and the brand.

What surprised me is how much work goes into maintaining that image. It is easy to look at a polished Instagram feed and assume someone is simply living an enviable life. But the lifestyle is also something they have to produce. The photos, the outfits, the captions, the events, even the people they are seen with all become part of a carefully curated identity.

There is also a lot of emotional labour involved. Followers expect interaction. They want replies, updates, and a sense of connection. So being a slay queen is not just about looking glamorous. It also means constantly performing a version of yourself that people want to keep following. In a strange way, personality becomes part of the job.

What makes this especially interesting is that these identities are rarely accidental. They are built over time. People pay attention to what gets engagement, what attracts opportunities, and what creates value. The self becomes an ongoing project, something that is constantly edited, refined, and performed.

For some women, this is also about aspiration. If luxury and status feel out of reach, performing that lifestyle can become a strategy rather than a fantasy. Looking like you already belong in certain spaces can open doors that might otherwise stay closed. Whether people see that as authenticity or performance probably depends on where they are standing.

I also wonder whether some of the criticism directed at slay queens has less to do with social media and more to do with gender. Women who are highly visible, openly ambitious, and unapologetic about wanting money or status are often judged more harshly than men who do the same. Confidence can easily be interpreted as arrogance, especially when it comes from women.

So, I do not really see slay queens as simply superficial. They strike me as performers, strategists and perhaps even entrepreneurs, who are navigating a world where identity itself has become something people can build, market, and sell. Whether we admire them or criticise them, they tell us something important about the kind of society we now live in.