When Olandria Carthen walks into a room, you’ll know. The Alabama-born multi-hyphenate doesn’t need to announce herself—the energy shifts, and people notice. The first time she visited Cosmopolitan HQ, she arrived in a preppy black-and-white look that could have been plucked from a ’90s Chanel runway. Poised and personable, she introduced herself around the room until a staffer looked up from their desk, visibly stunned, to ask, “Who is she?”

Olandria had started settling into adulthood when Peacock approached her to join Love Island USA. She said no. She had just moved out to Houston, was working sales at an elevator company, and wasn’t having much luck in the romance department. But she wanted to make life on her own work. The network approached her again, two more times. Eventually, Olandria caved and took a chance on love…and Love Island.

Season 7, the season she participated in, cemented the show as a cultural juggernaut, becoming Peacock’s most-watched original season of all time, with more than 18.4 billion minutes watched last summer. Her Southern charm, coupled with her keep-it-real attitude and fabulous bikini styling on the show, made her a standout of the season, even if she was “single and vulnerable” for a hot second before Nic Vansteenberghe hopped in the car with her for another chance at romance. Olandria’s friends-to-lovers arc with Nic became one of the season’s defining storylines, and by the time they became runners-up in the finale, she had an army of more than 2 million followers across platforms.

Her time in the Villa was so iconic that fellow Cosmo girl Latto name-dropped her—and referenced her uncoupling with Taylor Williams after Casa Amor—in a song: “Bitch, I don’t need a tailor [editor’s note: or Taylor] like Olandria.” Since then, Olandria has made her runway debut for Sergio Hudson, turned heads at the VMAs and the Golden Globes, and become the muse behind Brandon Blackwood’s first-ever collaboration, which sold out in 10 minutes.

The dedication of her supporters—known as Nicolandria Nation and the Ola Dolls—redefined reality TV standom. They not only bought space on a Times Square billboard to ring in her 28th birthday but also fiercely campaigned for this very Cosmolandria moment. We heard their calls, so we caught up with the Bama Barbie to dissect her newfound fame and what she has coming next.

You’re having an incredible year so far. You just became a homeowner, shot with Cosmo earlier today, and dropped your collaboration with Brandon Blackwood. How does it feel to navigate so many exciting things at once?

Even if it’s overwhelming at times, I’m extremely grateful. I am so honored to represent women who look like me. It reminds me of my purpose. Something about my journey ignites so much fire in them to get up and go after their dreams.

You were approached for Love Island three times before finally committing. What made you hesitate initially, and what made you feel like you were ready to do it when you finally agreed to it?

I didn’t want to put myself on a big stage just yet. I’m so happy I sat it out for two years. The world will come in and tell you who you are, and then you’re scrambling in the spotlight, and it’s messy. I had to make sure I knew who Olandria was before I properly introduced her to the world. When I did eventually say yes, I was like, “You know what? You see something in me that I don’t see in myself just yet. Let me just take you up on the offer.” Third time’s the charm.

Do you think timing played a role in why everything has panned out the way it has?

People are witnessing me in my winning season now, but those first two years out of school, I was going through hell. I was getting tried financially, romantically, emotionally, physically. I feel like that was the universe’s way of preparing me for something bigger. If I hadn’t embraced my testing stage, I wouldn’t have been able to navigate this space as elegantly as I am now.

Fans know you as Bama Barbie. It seems like you take a lot of pride in being from the South. What was it like growing up there, and what parts of your upbringing still shape you today?

Growing up in Alabama made me more grateful for the smaller things. As kids, we had to go outside and create our own fun. I was making mud pies, getting ringworms, and getting my legs all scuffed up because I actually had a childhood and went outside to play.

Even now that I have everything I could’ve ever imagined, I’m not allowing this thing to change me. I’m still the same person, and people can relate to me, regardless of how big my account gets or how big my spotlight is.

Before you decided to take a chance on reality TV, you did sales for an elevator company. Both are, arguably, pretty wacky jobs. Is there anything you learned from that era that you’ve applied to your newfound fame?

I was dealing with pissed-off customers every single day. It taught me how to handle conflict and communicate without shutting down and lashing out. It’s the way that you respond that means the most. I decided I’m going to be like Beyoncé with the BS—I’m not going to respond if it’s negative. You don’t see me clear up any rumors or address anything, because if you find yourself doing that, you create a loop of doing that over and over.

Were you a reality TV fan before being on it yourself? Which shows or personalities did you gravitate toward?

When I was younger, I used to watch Bad Girls Club with my mom—she’s a good parent, I swear! We’d watch that and The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I didn’t know what Love Island was when they reached out to me. When I finally saw it, I thought it was intense, but I was like, “I don’t need help. I’m an adult now, let me try to find the love of my life on my own,” before Love Island. Then I found out the dating scene in Houston was trash. I know it’s odd to go on a show and try to find love, but I wasn’t having any luck in Houston.

That’s why you resonated with fans last summer. They’re some of the most dedicated I’ve seen. How does it feel knowing that so many people are seeing themselves in you?

Other than with my family and my true best friends, I’ve never felt love like this before. When I first came out of the Villa to one of the biggest hate trains I could have ever imagined, I never expected anybody to come to my defense. Dark-skinned Black women are dragged in the media all the time and no one comes to the rescue. They always have to advocate for themselves because no one feels like they’re important enough to do that for them.

People are always trying to say my fan base is full of ruthless bullies, but they’re responding to hate. It’s a trend with me—if you tweet anything with my name in it that’s derogatory, it tends to go viral. It’s sickening, because behind that name is a human being with feelings, at the end of the day. So to have my supporters step in is a good thing, and I hope every woman has some support like that because we all need it.

You bring up that dark-skinned Black women usually have to do it for themselves. That’s very true in reality TV. The fact that you have so many people who have seen this and were like, “That’s not right—let’s change this,” is incredible to witness.

At first, my supporters were just Love Island–based. I’ve moved on from them to the general public assembling, like, “Wait, I see you guys bully this one girl so much, it makes me want to support her as well.”

Have there been moments when feeling deeply seen by the public felt overwhelming?

I don’t know if it’s my success that’s bothering people, but they think other people deserve it. I deserve every single thing that I have. I’m not winning because I’m sitting and waiting for it to fall in my lap. I am advocating for myself, networking, and trying to ignore the hate all at once. When I win, I want you to feel like you’ve won. I never want it to come off as me trying to smear it in someone’s face.

Your fans are incredibly invested in your relationship with Nic. When did you realize your connection could work outside the Villa?

Our final date, when we were just saying our piece, and I was like, “I’m gonna continue to water this love plant to see how it grows.” He said that he’s been in love twice and that the third time’s the charm.

Has there been a moment in your relationship that felt surprisingly normal, despite how public everything has become?

The way we move about it. We don’t monetize our relationship or put it on display. If you genuinely like spending quality time with somebody, it shouldn’t involve a camera every two seconds. We enjoy each other’s presence and do what normal people do: go out, have fun, and get to know each other.

We go to dinner and watch movies at the actual movie theater. We hang out at his house in Florida. We actually took a ride on his dad’s bike. He literally got his drone and recorded me and Nic on the motorcycle. It was so cute.

Why is it important for you to keep parts of that relationship private, and how do you decide what belongs to the public versus what belongs just to you?

It’s important for our own mental health. These people met you on TV, so they want access to you all the time. You want to post normally, but then you see people overanalyze every little thing, and you shut down. When it comes to me and Nic—when you really care about something—you keep it very sacred and close to you.

When I was younger, I never understood why people in Hollywood kept their love life private, and now I do. When you post too much, they think you’re monetizing and faking it. When you don’t post at all, they can’t tell if y’all are together. There’s no winning.

I’ve seen people speculate, like, “Are they together or not…”?

Why is it your business? Are your bills getting paid? Are you touch-deprived? Go get a man; go do something with your life. Why does it matter if me and Nic are together? Even when we were at Coachella, people in the comments were like, “Oh, I just needed proof that they saw each other this week.” Why are you so invested in people that don’t know you? That part kind of creeps me out, because I’m never that invested in someone’s relationship, and I’m not living for the internet. I don’t always post what people want me to or always do what people want me to do.

When you envisioned what you’d be doing after the show, what did you imagine?

When I got my phone back after the show, I suddenly had 2 million followers and a huge platform. There was no way I was going back to work, so I had to strategize and build a team. I only had my savings, and I had to pay rent and a car note after quitting my job, which was a guaranteed paycheck every two weeks. The pressure was on and I didn’t know where to start. I went into the Villa with very low expectations, and I expected to go back to my job. The very first thing that I went to after the show wasn’t a club gig—no offense to anybody who does that. I went straight to schools and started pushing education, something I don’t ever see anybody my age doing.

What made you want to focus on that?

In our society, where you could be a streamer or a content creator and make millions of dollars, no one wants to go to school anymore. I’m still young, I’m hot, and I’ve got influence, so I’m going to these colleges, having sold-out talking sessions for students. I want to have different avenues that I can tap into, and then eventually I want to be an actress. I want to do it all.

Fashion has been a huge part of your post-Villa narrative, and we’re seeing a significant shift where Black talent—like Zendaya and Colman Domingo—leverage style as a catalyst for major mainstream visibility. Do you feel fashion has served as a tool in your career?

Fashion was one of the first things that truly set me apart from the Love Island of it all. People started to take me more seriously. The VMAs were my official breakout moment into the fashion world—I was in a beautiful red dress, and it was everywhere. That’s when I knew it could be a turning point in my career because I started to be a part of a different conversation. I am extremely grateful for where I come from, but one thing about me? I do stuff to elevate.

Speaking of Zendaya, she fully fangirled over you a few months ago. Have you had any other celebrity interactions or connections that genuinely surprised you?

JT writes me a lot, saying, “I love what you’re doing for Black women.” Ciara was very heartwarming when I met her at the Give Her Flowers event. She spoke so much into me, like, “Keep going. We got you, girl.” Kehlani, Ryan Destiny, and Chlöe Bailey were others who were so endearing.

For them to welcome me with open arms and make me feel like I belong means a lot as a regular girl coming from the real world and basically getting thrown into this life. It’s already a lonely life because it’s so busy, and you don’t really have time to keep up with your friends and family. To have such beautiful women embrace you like that and speak so much into you made me realize how impactful my journey was for a lot of people.

Do you see yourself doing more reality TV?

I’m not against it—hopefully, it’s my own show. I want to be an executive producer and have a say in what goes out because in the reality space, Black women aren’t always put in the best light. I want to have control over my narrative because people are already trying to put me in a box or make me out to be the character that they wanted me to be. And I didn’t think that was fair because you didn’t really show me as the whole person that I am.

What do you hope the future of Olandria looks like?

I see myself continuing to be a household name and building on what I already have. I want to own multiple businesses and properties and have my own scholarship fund. I want to be big, and I believe all the things I was able to accomplish in these 10 months are only a testament to what’s to come.

Lead image: All clothing and shoes Gucci.

Styled by Jessica Neises. Hair by Sy Monroe for Sy Monroe Hair Collection. Makeup by Ernest Robinson at OPUS Beauty. Manicure by Mamie Onishi for Aprés Nail. Special thanks to Veloce Picture Cars.