I Love My Friends, But They’re Killing Me

The evocative title of Mumbai-based photographer Megha Singha’s latest project, I Love My Friends, But They’re Killing Me, immediately conjures a potent image of the pressures and paradoxes inherent in the pursuit of visibility and validation in the digital age. One particular photograph within the series powerfully encapsulates this theme, drawing an immediate parallel to Addison Rae’s single “Fame is a Gun.” In this striking image, a subject named Nandini is depicted reclining on vibrant pink bedsheets adorned with the Swarovski logo. She holds a tripod, upon which a plastic gun is precariously balanced, its barrel aimed directly at her own head as she adopts a posed demeanor for a photograph. The lack of subtlety in this visual metaphor is striking; both Singha’s photographic exploration and Rae’s lyrical confession delve deeply into the all-consuming, and at times, destructive quest for beauty and fame. Rae’s candid admission of her hunger for stardom, singing about how fame could be the only balm for a broken heart, resonates with the ambition often seen in young women striving for recognition. It is not surprising that the individuals featured in Singha’s portraits – micro-celebrities who have carved niches as influencers, reality television personalities, and aspiring actresses – are likely drawn to the very world Rae articulates.

The Genesis of a Visual Narrative

While the initial comparison to contemporary pop culture might suggest external inspiration, Singha clarifies that for this specific piece, the impetus came from a different artistic realm. The moodboard for I Love My Friends, But They’re Killing Me was informed by Rebecca Horn’s installation Room of Mutual Destruction, which features a gun pointed at a mirror, and Michelangelo Antonioni’s iconic 1966 film Blow Up. The recurring motif of firearms in Singha’s oeuvre is deeply rooted in personal history, tracing back to childhood memories. She recalls instances of playing with toy guns and staging dramatic, mock-injuries for her family, blending the worlds of play and performance. “These images are inspired by how play and performance can collide into one,” Singha explained via email. This interplay between staged reality and personal experience forms the bedrock of her artistic inquiry.

Singha’s overarching interest lies in the performance of beauty, both online and offline. This fascination was significantly amplified by an anecdote involving her mother. “My mum is extremely cool and has always been interested in new beauty trends, so when Kim Kardashian got her famous vampire facial, she somehow convinced the dermatologists in the town of Jorhat, where she lives, to explore it locally,” Singha recounted. This personal experience ignited her curiosity about the globalization of beauty standards. The phenomenon of a trend originating in celebrity culture and permeating into a small Indian town profoundly impacted her, prompting a desire to explore this cultural diffusion through her photographic lens.

A Deep Dive into Beauty Culture

The photographer dedicated a substantial period to researching this intricate culture and the young women who actively participate in the performance of beauty online. "I spent most of 2024 understanding this world, talking to the girls and getting to know them as I didn’t want my own preconceptions, good or bad, to influence the images," she shared. This commitment to unbiased observation allowed her to capture a more authentic representation. Singha emphasizes that her project is not a critique of this culture but rather an exploration of its manifestation across diverse geographies and socioeconomic strata, and its subsequent shaping of notions of femininity and desire.

The portraits, rendered on 35mm film with a direct flash, offer an intimate glimpse into the subjects’ domestic spaces – their bedrooms and living rooms. They are depicted lounging, reclining on velvet armchairs, or posing by cluttered desks. The strategic use of these personal interiors was essential for Singha to cultivate a sense of intimacy and authenticity. She was equally drawn to these settings because they presented a facet of India that resonated more closely with her own reality, a reality shaped by global visual culture and consumerism. "I wanted to move away from certain narratives and tropes that people expect of a photograph shot in India," she stated. Instead, she relied on the objects present in the subjects’ rooms – Playboy posters, Swarovski bedsheets, and red-light therapy machines – to subtly reflect the symbiotic, global economy of images and aspirations.

Stylist Rupangi Grover, who collaborated closely with Singha, adopted a parallel approach to styling. Her process involved fostering intimacy through dress-up, engaging conversations, and spending time with the subjects in their homes. “I found myself pulling pieces from their mothers’ wardrobes, looking through childhood photographs pinned to bedroom walls, and rummaging through jewellery boxes and beauty drawers,” Grover told Dazed. The resulting looks in the series are a curated blend of Grover’s personal collection, pieces handpicked from contemporary Indian designers, and items from the subjects’ own wardrobes. “A lot of the styling leans into softness, sheerness, lace, lingerie, and hand-crocheted elements, which introduced a DIY sensibility while adding a layer of complexity to familiar ideas of femininity and sexiness,” she added.

Navigating Societal Expectations

Despite the perceived freedom that online fame can afford these young women, Singha highlights the persistent negotiation of familial and gendered expectations they encounter. “One girl who comes from a conservative background gave us permission to take her photographs but insisted we do it at a time when her father wasn’t around, as he would not approve of it even though he has a framed selfie of her in the living room,” she recounted. This anecdote underscores the complex interplay between public persona and private adherence to societal norms. Singha also shared, without divulging specific identities, that another subject faced similar repercussions as a teenager for deviating from traditional expectations of modesty and modesty.

Singha expresses an eagerness to further explore this inherent tension in her future work. She contemplates extending the series to her hometown in Northeast India or to other smaller towns, aiming to view the narrative through a fresh lens. Such an endeavor, she believes, could reveal new perspectives on femininity and aspiration within the country. I Love My Friends, But They’re Killing Me was notably shortlisted for the 2026 Aperture Portfolio Prize, a testament to its critical acclaim and its profound engagement with contemporary cultural dialogues. The project serves as a powerful visual commentary on the evolving landscape of fame, beauty, and identity in the 21st century, particularly within the Indian context.