'Wakanda Forever' Shows That Black People Can’t Win In The MCU

*Warning: this piece contains spoilers for Black Panther 2: Wakanda Forever*
Wakanda Forever is in a no-win situation.
The sequel to the Marvel Cinematic Universe juggernaut Black Panther has the monumental task of honoring its fallen king, Chadwick Boseman, and the character he played, T’Challa, all while continuing on the Black Panther mantel, introducing new characters Riri “IronHeart” Williams (who will have her own Disney+ series) and the antihero Namor and his underwater kingdom Talokan.
It’s impossible to do all of these things well in just one movie, though co-writer and director Ryan Coogler’s effort is valiant. The love for Boseman is palpable, and Wakanda Forever gives us the opportunity to mourn him together, just as we celebrated him in community during Black Panther’s 2018 run.
Though I left the theater in tears after both Black Panther and Wakanda Forever, back in 2018 I wasn’t immediately sure why. This time around, it’s much more clear what hurts: Black people can’t win in the MCU.
Black People Can’t Have Peace
Much of the Black joy around Black Panther was rooted in the idea of Wakanda as the AfroFuture realized. The most advanced nation in the world, shielded from the evils of white colonization, enslavement, extraction and exploitation of resources, Wakanda represented all the beauty, glory and majesty of who we could’ve been, unshackled and without limits.
And yet, all of its leaders are assassinated by outsiders. First, it’s King T’Chaka, who meets his end at the hands of white Sokovian terrorist Zemo in Captain America: Civil War. Then it’s T’Challa, who’s blipped away for five years by Thanos’ snap in Avengers: Infinity War (before returning back to life in Avengers: End Game and dying of an unnamed illness in Wakanda Forever). Finally, it’s Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett) in Wakanda Forever, assassinated by Namor (Tenoch Huerta) and left face-down, drowned in a flood of his making. It’s a graphic and disturbing image, not just for the characters – particularly her daughter, Princess Shuri (Letitia Wright), who has now lost every single member of her immediate family – but also for the already-grieving audience.
We came to the film expecting to grieve Boseman, whose untimely death from cancer in 2020 we’ve been processing ever since. And we came expecting to grieve T’Challa, knowing that the #RecastTChalla movement had been unsuccessful because, for the filmmakers and cast, Boseman is more than a character who inspired legions of young people. He was an actual person and friend, deeply loved and deeply grieved by his Black Panther family. Acknowledging his death and honoring him with the film rightfully meant more than continuing on with a new actor in the role. All of that, I'd expected and accepted.
But the assassination of Ramonda was cruel and unnecessary, for both the characters and the audience.
Yes, it’s a fictional death, and Angela Bassett played the hell out of it. But with the death of Boseman, our fictions and our realities have too closely intermingled. Killing Ramonda and leaving Shuri orphaned exemplified our all-too-real experience of Black grief in this country. We can’t even burn our mourning clothes before the next tragedy strikes. To still experience this, even in the AfroFuture? That's cruelty.
But it’s the MCU, and superhero origin stories need cruel deaths. T’Challa’s, apparently, wasn’t enough. Shuri’s subsequent journey of being consumed by grief in Wakanda Forever then, mirrors that of T’Challa’s in Civil War–both of which lead to a dissatisfying end.
Black People Can’t Have Vengeance
In 2016’s Civil War, Boseman’s T’Challa has just witnessed the assassination of his father, King T’Chaka, leading him on a path of revenge, that ultimately ends with him sitting on a hill, having a peaceful chat with his father’s killer, Zemo. T’Challa sees how vengeance has destroyed Zemo and lets the terrorist live, choosing the road of forgiveness.
T’Challa’s insistence on vengeance being no way to live continues in Black Panther and contrasts with his uncle N’Jobu (Sterling K. Brown) and cousin, the Black American N’Jadaka, AKA Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan). N’Jobu, who had been a Wakandan spy in America, had found sympathy for and community with Black American freedom fighters. He married a Black American woman who was imprisoned as a revolutionary (according to a deleted scene) and was planning to use vibranium to break her out and arm Black Americans in their fight against their white supremacist overlords. His own brother T’Chaka finds that plan so offensive that it’s worthy of N’Jobu’s immediate arrest and then execution when he resists, without much discussion, let alone tribunal. T’Chaka’s murder of his brother leaves a young Killmonger without a father or a mother.
All grown up, Killmonger comes to Wakanda for the first time to avenge his father N’Jobu. Killmonger also seeks revenge for Wakanda’s isolationist tactics, watching from the safety of their secret borders as Europeans kidnapped West Africans and sold them into slavery in the Americas, colonized most of Africa, and terrorized Black people globally with white supremacy. His keloided body marks the inner corruption vengeance has left on his soul–and there is no doubt, his murderous, misogynistic tactics are less about liberation for all Black people and more about replicating the white power structure with a Black male face as king.
When Killmonger fights T’Challa to maintain control as Wakanda’s king and Black Panther, T’Challa kills Killmonger. As Killmonger dies, T’Challa offers to heal Killmonger, but he’s just too broken and damaged by the impact of slavery and white supremacy on his people in America, too consumed by vengeance to ever be healed, to ever go back to his African home. Trying to get Black people together to get revenge against white people will never fly in the MCU.
Shuri learns as much in Wakanda Forever when her anger and grief over the loss of T’Challa from an unnamed illness leads Namor to believe she will be a good ally to him and his people, the Talokan, who have also suffered because of white supremacists’ efforts to destroy their people. He asks her to burn the world with him in order to protect their people from further distress. She isn’t keen on it, and she’s also not in control; Ramonda is calling the shots. When Namor murders Ramonda, Shuri goes all in on a plan to destroy Namor and the Talokan.
Her deep-seated need for vengeance leads her to meet Killmonger when she goes to the ancestral plane on her journey to becoming Black Panther. It’s at first a welcomed surprise to see him and to see the film allowing a young, dark-skinned Black woman the fullness of her rage on screen. Seeing Killmonger and watching as her rage sets the ancestral plane ablaze, suggest perhaps we might see Wakanda Forever correct the MCU's constant propaganda that “Black people must forgive our oppressors!” Plot twist: it's the same old story.
“Vengeance has consumed us,” Shuri says after she’s got Namor on the ropes, a spear at his throat. She drops her weapon and her vengeance, for the sake of the Wakandans who are getting their asses kicked in the middle of the ocean by the Talokan. “We cannot let it consume our people.”
Shuri has lost everything and everyone, and even still, Ramonda's spirit randomly shows up as a deus ex machina to remind Shuri that vengeance is not appropriate. "Show him who we are," Ramonda says. What is that, if not the same tired Black respectability politics we’ve been fed since slavery?
Black People Can’t Have Unity
Just like in slavery, unity among Black people is the greatest threat to white supremacist power and has been intentionally thwarted for centuries. It’s no different in the MCU. I accept that Killmonger wasn’t actually radical, and his faux-tep philosophy would not have led to Black liberation, but T’Challa didn’t listen to his partner Nakia’s (Lupita Nyong’o) correct takes on Black unity and liberation either.
Nakia wanted to use vibranium to help the people of Africa, and often left Wakanda to go and help people in other African nations as a spy. Does that inspire T’Challa to do her work at a larger scale at the end of Black Panther? No. He builds a STEM program and community centers for some underprivileged Black kids in America; skips right over the African Union or any attempts to unite and empower the Continent; and incomprehensibly takes his knowledge of vibranium to the white supremacist United Nations instead.
In fact, outside of fictional Wakanda – which appropriates many African nations’ languages and cultures to make up the look and feel of Wakanda – there are zero positive depictions of real Africa in the MCU. In Civil War, we see Nigeria’s capital city Lagos completely destroyed (and mispronounced!! several times!!) by the Avengers. In Black Panther, Nigeria is reduced to Boko Haram traffickers of women and children. In Wakanda Forever, there’s mention of a Wakandan hub in Ghana, but we don’t see Ghana outside of the hub, which is guarded by Dora Milaje. We don’t see any other part of Africa in the MCU, and the message is clear: Wakanda has advanced itself so successfully because it has isolated itself from the rest of Africa. It's giving: "not like the other Blacks."
But the worst offense takes place inside of Wakanda’s borders at the end of Black Panther.
King T’Challa, who was thought dead, has arisen, meaning he was not defeated by Killmonger and the challenge for the throne should continue. But Killmonger has no interest in a fair fight; he’s already been crowned king and Black Panther. Inexplicably, this leads to a Wakandan civil war.
Killmonger just got there like the day before; T’Chaka and T’Challa have been mainstays in Wakanda for decades. W’Kabi (Daniel Kaluuya) is T’Challa’s best friend. All of the tribes joyously celebrated T’Challa being crowned king the week before. And yet, W’Kabi leads his tribe and others into war against fellow Wakandans and many, many are killed, including members of the Dora Milaje. This is the problem of having an all-Black setting in the MCU: action movies need battle scenes, so a lot of Black people will be killed on screen and even Wakanda itself will have to get trashed.
Wakanda is the most technologically advanced nation in the MCU; they’ve never been colonized, and still their ways of handling conflict are steeped in age-old white supremacist tactics of violence, domination and control. The math don’t add!
To make matters more disgusting, Nakia and T’Challa have brought a white CIA agent into Wakanda, Everett Ross, who is not only given life-saving treatment for his injuries and a tour of Wakanda’s secrets as a literal AGENT OF THE CIA, but he's also given weapons by Shuri to shoot down Wakandan pilots in the civil war. The entire reason T’Challa won’t help African nations or the Black diaspora is to protect the safety and security of Wakanda – which completely goes out the window when a random white cop is down bad?
Coogler, Oakland’s own, is very well aware of the history of the CIA, FBI and global police efforts to destroy Black liberation movements, and particularly the Black Panthers. But it’s the MCU; the “good white cop who has Black friends” is their entire MO (see Captain America, Iron Man, Thor…). Still, Agent Ross’s seemingly irrevocable invitation to the Black Panther franchise cookout is an affront and jokingly calling him “colonizer” doesn’t make up for it.
Contrast the Wakandan civil war with the Avengers in Civil War, where the Avengers split into two factions and fight each other. When one Avenger gets seriously injured, the fighting stops. They love each other too much to kill each other. Wakandans – who literally only know each other because they’ve been isolated from the rest of the world for their entire existence – kill each other with ease. What message does that send about Wakanda, about Africa?
Meanwhile, as Black countrymen are killing each other, Zemo, the white man who murdered their king, is still alive and well.
And so are the white French soldiers in Wakanda Forever who attack Wakanda’s hub in Ghana, armed to the teeth and looking for vibranium. The Dora Milaje disarm them and bring them – handcuffed yet unscathed – into a United Nations meeting to help Queen Ramonda make her point about how corrupt these white countries are.
Yet Okoye receives no such leniency from Ramonda when Okoye valiantly loses her fight against a gang of Talokan warriors with superhuman strength who kidnap Shuri and Riri. Ramonda strips Okoye of her rank as general and banishes her from the Dora Milaje, ignoring pleas for mercy from the Council. Ramonda also mentions that Okoye’s “treacherous” husband W’Kabi is in banishment after siding with Killmonger during the civil war.
All of this begs the question: What is justice in Wakanda and how does the most advanced nation on earth dole it out to its own? Murder and banishment and war are all we see.
This continues in Wakanda Forever when Namor approaches Wakanda to team up against white colonizers. I’ll admit, when Namor shows up dripping in vibranium because Wakanda wasn’t in fact the only special place where vibranium formed, I thought, Man…Black people can’t have nothing! Still, I was all for a film exploring the joint struggle of Black and Mayan communities and how we’re naturally allies. But it’s the MCU; Disney would pull the plug on the whole franchise if Marvel actually let Black and Mayan people team up to take down white supremacy for real. So Wakanda Forever spends the majority of its action with the Black and Mayan people killing each other, becoming allies at the very last possible minute, without showing what “allyship” actually looks like. Guess we’ll see what the MCU allows in Black Panther 3.
But as for Wakandan and Black American unity, that future is still to be seen. In Black Panther, Okoye spits the word “Americans,” and with Killmonger’s death and the heartbreaking message that Black American descendants of enslaved Africans might just be too messed up to reconnect with Africa, Black Panther surely makes no space for an end to the Diaspora Wars.
The only other Black Americans in that film are some nameless boys in the ‘hood in Oakland, whom T’Challa attempts to rescue through his charitable STEM program. Get ‘em while they’re young, I guess. But if Black Americans can only receive Wakandan charity rather than exchange of ideas, of cultures, of language, there's no hope for unity.
The inclusion of Riri Williams in Wakanda Forever, however, may be an attempt at correction, as she’s the first Black American young woman character in the franchise. She’s not quite an equal to the Wakandans we know, as she's a 19-year-old college kid. But she is also a prodigy and a mentee for Shuri, and I’m here for their Black girl brilliance and the growing bond between them. But Shuri won't let Riri take her IronHeart suit back to America with her. Shuri is still in control.
Even Wakanda Forever 's introduction of Haiti and Black life in the Caribbean to the MCU still puts Wakanda in the position of teacher, as Nakia is the headmaster of the school featured there and in charge of educating Haitian children. Coogler choosing Haiti as a site of healing and connection and writing that Nakia and T'Challa name their son Toussaint to honor the revolutionary history of Haiti seem like narrative steps toward Wakanda's community building in the Diaspora. But knowing Haiti's current real life level of devastation after the 2021 hurricane, I need some receipts that Wakanda is doing more to empower Haiti than just running one self-sustaining school.
Further franchise installments should account for the incessant lack of Black unity both inside Wakanda and throughout the Diaspora. Without colonization and white supremacy, Wakanda should’ve been leading the charge on how to show care and solve intracommunal conflict.
But, again, it’s the MCU. That means these movies can’t possibly be revolutionary beyond the veneer of representation.
Black People Can’t Be Free
And sure, representation matters, but then what?
What was gained by the extremely mild showing of affection in Wakanda Forever between Dora Milaje warriors Aneka (a wasted Michaela Coel) and Ayo (Florence Kasumba), two queer characters in the comics whose relationship is diminished to a two-second peck on the bald head? Is it enough to know that Black queer characters exist in this world, even if they can’t do anything particularly queer so that Marvel can increase the odds that China will let the movie open in its country? (Surprise! China wasn’t ever gonna let them do that, anyway.)
What was gained by taking Okoye, who found such pride, joy and beauty in her bald head in Black Panther, and reducing her looks to punchlines in Wakanda Forever? This happens both inside Wakanda by M’Baku in front of the Council, where this leader is supposed to be respected and revered, and outside Wakanda by the young genius Riri who couldn't think of a better comeback than calling her bald head ashy. This passes as comedy in 2022?
What was gained by making M’Baku king and setting up the reveal of a secret 6-year-old son for T’Challa? These choices seemed like throwing bones to the #RecastTchalla crowd who mourned the loss of Black male power more than anything else. Sure, the idea of a secret son could bring some comfort that the T'Challa character will live on in the future and that Shuri does still have one relative left. But more than anything, it makes its secret-holding characters look especially cruel.
For a year, the son was grieving the loss of his father, as were Ramonda and Shuri and all of Wakanda. They could've been grieving together. Wakanda Forever opens with this gorgeous, all-white funeral for T'Challa, emphasizing the Wakandan tradition of grieving and healing in community, which only makes Nakia's nonsense reasoning for not bringing the boy to attend the funeral and meet his aunt all the more unbelievable – especially considering the turmoil that Killmonger being disconnected from Wakanda had caused.
But the worst grandmother of the year award goes to Ramonda, who not only knew about her secret grandson and didn't tell her grieving daughter, but she also sent his only living parent off on a dangerous rescue mission, leaving the child behind in Haiti (with whom?!). It's such an unsavory series of choices that goes against so much of what we've learned over two films about these characters and their love for Wakanda, in exchange for an emotionally manipulative surprise ending.
It only further highlights the fact that these characters haven't been developed enough and neither has Wakanda. Besides letting women fight in battle and rule the kingdom when the men they’re connected to become ancestors, we don’t know much about Wakandan culture and values outside of the royal walls, since we never meet any regular degular Wakandans. Is there homelessness? Free healthcare? Hopefully flood insurance? We don't know. But even without the infiltration of white supremacy and colonization, it seems that Black people in Wakanda are only free to a degree. And that’s by design.
Outside of the MCU, these films wouldn't have had the tentpole, blockbuster reach or success; they wouldn't even exist. Still, they could’ve been so much more than the fashion, the memes, and the need for representation that initially brought us together behind this franchise – though that 2018 moment in history was a gift that can never be replicated. We wanted a king and Chadwick was a beautiful one. We wanted Black women exercising agency and power. We wanted dark-skinned beauty representation and we got all of that, so we let some anti-Black, anti-Black American and anti-African sentiments cook.
But we deserve more. We deserve a story about Africanness and Diasporic Blackness that’s not hampered by the white gaze that would refuse us peace, justice, unity and vengeance. In the MCU, no matter who’s at the helm, that’s just not possible.
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Because We Are Still IT, Girl: It Girl 100 Returns
Last year, when our xoNecole team dropped our inaugural It Girl 100 honoree list, the world felt, ahem, a bit brighter.
It was March 2024, and we still had a Black woman as the Vice President of the United States. DEI rollbacks weren’t being tossed around like confetti. And more than 300,000 Black women were still gainfully employed in the workforce.
Though that was just nineteen months ago, things were different. Perhaps the world then felt more receptive to our light as Black women.
At the time, we launched It Girl 100 to spotlight the huge motion we were making as dope, GenZennial Black women leaving our mark on culture. The girls were on the rise, flourishing, drinking their water, minding their business, leading companies, and learning to do it all softly, in rest. We wanted to celebrate that momentum—because we love that for us.
So, we handpicked one hundred It Girls who embody that palpable It Factor moving through us as young Black women, the kind of motion lighting up the world both IRL and across the internet.
It Girl 100 became xoNecole’s most successful program, with the hashtag organically reaching more than forty million impressions on Instagram in just twenty-four hours. Yes, it caught on like wildfire because we celebrated some of the most brilliant and influential GenZennial women of color setting trends and shaping culture. But more than that, it resonated because the women we celebrated felt seen.
Many were already known in their industries for keeping this generation fly and lit, but rarely received recognition or flowers. It Girl 100 became a safe space to be uplifted, and for us as Black women to bask in what felt like an era of our brilliance, beauty, and boundless influence on full display.
And then, almost overnight, it was as if the rug was pulled from under us as Black women, as the It Girls of the world.
Our much-needed, much-deserved season of ease and soft living quickly metamorphosed into a time of self-preservation and survival. Our motion and economic progression seemed strategically slowed, our light under siege.
The air feels heavier now. The headlines colder. Our Black girl magic is being picked apart and politicized for simply existing.
With that climate shift, as we prepare to launch our second annual It Girl 100 honoree list, our team has had to dig deep on the purpose and intention behind this year’s list. Knowing the spirit of It Girl 100 is about motion, sauce, strides, and progression, how do we celebrate amid uncertainty and collective grief when the juice feels like it is being squeezed out of us?
As we wrestled with that question, we were reminded that this tension isn’t new. Black women have always had to find joy in the midst of struggle, to create light even in the darkest corners. We have carried the weight of scrutiny for generations, expected to be strong, to serve, to smile through the sting. But this moment feels different. It feels deeply personal.
We are living at the intersection of liberation and backlash. We are learning to take off our capes, to say no when we are tired, to embrace softness without apology.
And somehow, the world has found new ways to punish us for it.

In lifestyle, women like Kayla Nicole and Ayesha Curry have been ridiculed for daring to choose themselves. Tracee Ellis Ross was labeled bitter for speaking her truth about love. Meghan Markle, still, cannot breathe without critique.
In politics, Kamala Harris, Letitia James, and Jasmine Crockett are dragged through the mud for standing tall in rooms not built for them.
In sports, Angel Reese, Coco Gauff, and Taylor Townsend have been reminded that even excellence will not shield you from racism or judgment.

In business, visionaries like Diarrha N’Diaye-Mbaye and Melissa Butler are fighting to keep their dreams alive in an economy that too often forgets us first.
Even our icons, Beyoncé, Serena, and SZA, have faced criticism simply for evolving beyond the boxes society tried to keep them in.
From everyday women to cultural phenoms, the pattern is the same. Our light is being tested.

And yet, somehow, through it all, we are still showing up as that girl, and that deserves to be celebrated.
Because while the world debates our worth, we keep raising our value. And that proof is all around us.
This year alone, Naomi Osaka returned from motherhood and mental health challenges to reach the semifinals of the US Open. A’ja Wilson claimed another MVP, reminding us that beauty and dominance can coexist. Brandy and Monica are snatching our edges on tour. Kahlana Barfield Brown sold out her new line in the face of a retailer that had been canceled. And Melissa Butler’s company, The Lip Bar, is projecting a forty percent surge in sales.

We are no longer defining strength by how much pain we can endure. We are defining it by the unbreakable light we continue to radiate.
We are the women walking our daily steps and also continuing to run solid businesses. We are growing in love, taking solo trips, laughing until it hurts, raising babies and ideas, drinking our green juice, and praying our peace back into existence.
We are rediscovering the joy of rest and realizing that softness is not weakness, it is strategy.
And through it all, we continue to lift one another. Emma Grede is creating seats at the table. Valeisha Butterfield has started a fund for jobless Black women. Arian Simone is leading in media with fearless conviction. We are pouring into each other in ways the world rarely sees but always feels.

So yes, we are in the midst of societal warfare. Yes, we are being tested. Yes, we are facing economic strain, political targeting, and public scrutiny. But even war cannot dim a light that is divinely ours.
And we are still shining.
And we are still softening.
And we are still creating.
And we are still It.

That is the quiet magic of Black womanhood, our ability to hold both truth and triumph in the same breath, to say yes, and to life’s contradictions.
It is no coincidence that this year, as SheaMoisture embraces the message “Yes, And,” they stand beside us as partners in celebrating this class of It Girls. Because that phrase, those two simple words, capture the very essence of this moment.
Yes, we are tired. And we are still rising.
Yes, we are questioned. And we are the answer.
Yes, we are bruised. And we are still beautiful.

This year’s It Girl 100 is more than a list. It is a love letter to every Black woman who dares to live out loud in a world that would rather she whisper. This year’s class is living proof of “Yes, And,” women who are finding ways to thrive and to heal, to build and to rest, to lead and to love, all at once.
It is proof that our joy is not naive, our success not accidental. It is the reminder that our light has never needed permission.
So without further ado, we celebrate the It Girl 100 Class of 2025–2026.
We celebrate the millions of us who keep doing it with grace, grit, and glory.
Because despite it all, we still shine.
Because we are still her.
Because we are still IT, girl.
Meet all 100 women shaping culture in the It Girl 100 Class of 2025. View the complete list of honorees here.
Featured image by xoStaff
It Girl 100 Class Of 2025: Meet The Style Innovators You Need To Know
She's beauty, she's grace, yes, she's the blueprint, and she's the moment. She's a Style Innovator, turning everyday moments into the kind of fashion statements we can't stop double-tapping. And she's not alone.
This year's It Girl 100 is a mosaic of brilliance, featuring entrepreneurs, cultural disruptors, beauty visionaries, and boundary-pushing creatives who embody the spirit of "Yes, And." This digital celebration honors the women who embrace every facet of themselves, proving authenticity will always be in style.
Among these 100 It Girls stand the Style Innovators, the muses and the artists setting the tone in beauty, hair, and fashion. They're the creatives who turn self-expression into a walking art form. With every detail devoured, from OOTDs to OOTNs, they remind us that personal style isn't just about what you wear, but how you move through the world and how you show up as no one but yourself.
Here's the roll call for xoNecole's It Girl Class of 2025: Style Innovators.

Model, Content Creator, and TV Host Achieng Agutu
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Achieng Agutu
Her Handle: @noordinarynoire
Her Title: Model, Content Creator, TV Host
Who's That It Girl: Achieng Agutu is the Kenyan-born Confidence Queen taking over digital culture. We love her for using her platform to uplift others with fearless self-expression and for proving that beauty lies in authenticity.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, and I am apologetically me!"

Beauty Editor and Expert Maya Allen
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Maya Allen
Her Handle: @mayaalenaa
Her Title: Beauty Editor and Expert
Who's That It Girl: Maya Allen is a beauty editor and writer whose work at Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, and The Cut has changed how we talk about beauty. She’s passionate about representation and using storytelling to challenge old standards.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I'm a storyteller, and I know the most powerful chapters of my story are still being written."

Beauty Influencer and Content Creator Alissa Armon
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Alissa Armon
Her Handle: @alissa.ashley
Her Title: Beauty Influencer and Content Creator
Who's That It Girl: Alissa Ashley is a beauty and lifestyle content creator with over 2 million YouTube subscribers. Known for her makeup tutorials and relatable style, she's expanded her content to include fitness and wellness.

Creator and Social Media Personality Jodie Taylor
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Jodie Taylor
Her Handle: @jodiektayl
Her Title: Creator and Social Media Personality
Who's That Girl: Jodie Taylor blends creativity and confidence in everything she wears. We celebrate her for her fearless individuality and for leading a generation of women who style their own stories.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I operate at the highest levels and I bring others along with me."

Creator and Beauty Consultant Golloria George
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Golloria George
Her Handle: @golloria
Her Title: Creator and Beauty Consultant
Who's That It Girl: Golloria George is a beauty creator and consultant known for pushing shade inclusivity in the industry. She’s collaborated with brands like Patrick Ta and Rhode and earned recognition from Forbes, TIME, and Ebony for her impact.
Her "Yes, And," Statement: "Yes, I stand firmly in who I am and am confident in my power."

Founder and Designer Sade Mims
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Sade Mims
Her Handle: @sademims
Her Title: Founder and Designer
Who's That It Girl: Sade Mims is an artist and founder of design label EDAS. Mims skills, experience, and innate interest for conceptualization and design have been the driving force of her work. With over 10 years of experience, she has immersed herself in many mediums and finds joy and inspiration from the mundane parts of life.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I’m chill and still full of depth."

Fashion, Style Influencer and Content Creator Courtney Quinn
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Courtney Quinn
Her Handle: @colormecourtney
Her Title: Fashion, Style Influencer and Content Creator
Who's That It Girl: We love Courtney Quinn’s unapologetic embrace of color and play. Her creative storytelling and business savvy prove that joy can be a strategy and that whimsy and purpose belong together.

Beauty and Lifestyle Creator Toni Bravo
Credit: Adelynn Tourondel
Toni Bravo
Her Handle: @bonitravo
Her Title: Beauty and Lifestyle Creator
Who's That It Girl: Toni Bravo is a visionary stylist and creative director redefining chic. We honor her for transforming fashion into a language of empowerment and self-celebration.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I am limitless and I’m paving my own path."

Beauty Content Creator Amber Nicole
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Amber Nicole
Her Handle: @withambernicole
Her Title: Beauty Content Creator
Who's That It Girl: Amber Nicole is a beauty entrepreneur and wellness advocate who founded her clean-skincare line, Naked By Nature to honor her journey with vitiligo, champion self-care, and redefine beauty standards for women of color.

Beauty Influencer and Content Creator Arnell Armon
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Arnell Armon
Her Handle: @arnell.armon
Her Title: Beauty Influencer and Content Creator
Who's That It Girl: We honor Arnell Armon’s sharp editorial eye and influence across beauty and lifestyle. Her thoughtful content and authenticity continue to inspire a community that values creativity and confidence.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I’m a mom, creator, and trailblazer."

Creator Salina Williams
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Salina Williams
Her Handle: @salina_sincerely
Her Title: Creator
Who's That It Girl: Salina Williams brings soulful elegance to every ensemble. We celebrate her for merging classic beauty with contemporary edge, creating a signature style that speaks volumes without saying a word.

Creator and Social Media Personality Jodie Woods
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Jodie Woods
Her Handle: @jodiewoods
Her Title: Creator and Social Media Personality
Who's That It Girl: With charm and poise beyond her years, Jodie Woods is shaping the future of fashion influence. We love her for showing that authenticity, not trends, is the ultimate luxury.

Model, Entrepreneur, Beauty and Media Personality Jordyn Woods
Shutterstock
Jordyn Woods
Her Handle: @jordynwoods
Her Title: Model, Entrepreneur, Beauty and Media Personality
Who's That It Girl: Jordyn Woods continues to turn reinvention into an art form. We honor her for her self-made journey and for using her platform to champion body positivity, growth, and grace.
Kirah Ominique
Her Handle: @kirahominique
Who's That It Girl: Kirah Ominique is the creative voice behind confidence-filled style moments. We celebrate her for inspiring women to embrace every curve, color, and chapter of their beauty.

Beauty and Lifestyle Creator Yana Carr
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Yana Carr
Her Handle: @goldynaps
Her Title: Beauty and Lifestyle Creator
Who's That It Girl: Yana is a Philadelphia content creator who started with natural hair and beauty, then expanded into tennis and lifestyle. She now hosts tennis events for young Black women and is launching her own braiding hair brand.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I'm multifaceted and unapologetic about pursuing my passions."

Influencer Tiara Willis
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Tiara Willis
Her Handle: @thetiarawillis
Who's That It Girl: Tiara Willis started creating beauty content at just 14 and built a trusted community of over half a million followers. Now, she is an amazing licensed esthetician, and partners with major brands to educate and empower skincare lovers everywhere.
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I built a trusted community and I shape the way they experience beauty."

Makeup Artist and Beauty Creator Makeup Shayla
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Makeup Shayla
Her Handle: @makeupshayla
Her Title: Makeup Artist and Beauty Creator
Who's That It Girl: Makeup Shayla’s artistry has become iconic in the beauty world. We love her for setting the standard for glam that’s equal parts bold, empowering, and timeless.

Zaya Wade
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Zaya Wade
Her Title: Model
Who's That It Girl: Zaya Wade is courage personified. We celebrate her for standing proudly in her truth and inspiring a global movement toward acceptance, identity, and radiant self-love.

Entrepreneur Ruthann Palacios
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Ruthann Palacios
Her Handle: @ruesworldd
Her Title: Entrepreneur
Who's That It Girl: "My overall purpose is to show that it is possible to show your personality through your clothes no matter the size, race, or gender and that you can do anything you set your mind to. At the end of the day we are our biggest critics and if you feel free, confident, and good in what you do, the weight of being judged by others won’t hold any value."
Her "Yes, And" Statement: "Yes, I am a creator who celebrates fashion, and I am a voice reminding people they don’t have to fit in to stand out."
Now that you've met the Style Innovators, see who else made our list. Tap into the full It Girl 100 Class of 2025 and meet all 100 women changing game this year and beyond. See the full list here.
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