Vivian Wilson’s entrance into the public sphere had nothing to do with who she really is. Wilson is the 21-year-old estranged daughter of Elon Musk, who, in 2024, wrote a transphobic post about her on X. Among other things, he claimed that she was “not a girl” and used her dead name.
Wilson wasn’t having it. She wrote a series of posts in response on Threads debunking her father’s characterization of her, calling him “desperate for attention and validation.” Earlier this year, Wilson appeared on the cover of Teen Vogue to reintroduce herself on her own terms. In a profile by Ella Yurman, she dished about RuPaul’s Drag Race and revealed her aspirations to model. Two months later, she has her first gig.
To celebrate Pride, Wilson is launching a collaboration with the queer-owned clothing label Wildfang in a new campaign called Say My Name, which celebrates trans lives and self-expression across identities. In addition to modeling her favorite pieces from the brand’s latest collection, Wilson designed a special-edition graphic tee reading, “Existing Shouldn’t Be Revolutionary.” One hundred percent of the shirt’s profits will benefit The Trevor Project, a suicide-prevention and crisis-intervention organization for LGBTQ+ youth.
The night before the campaign’s debut, I hopped on the phone with Wilson to discuss her future goals, how to stay grounded when the world feels overwhelming, and her dream drag-pageant look.
What first drew you to modeling?
It was RuPaul’s Drag Race, unsurprisingly, that initially drew me to modeling. The ways different queens would make the catwalk their own, notably Vivacious and Shea Coulée, were really captivating to me. That appreciation of the runway turned into an equal appreciation for digital and photography modeling. I’ve always been interested in it, and I feel like I’m pretty good at it. I’m looking forward to exploring it as my career moves along.
Which drag queens in particular have inspired your sense of style?
Kerri Colby, Anetra, Bosco, and Sasha Colby. Sasha Colby has this aura and confidence and is unapologetically in her own style. That’s encouraged me to apply those same features to my personal style. She’s gorgeous. She’s so stunning. We love her.
You’ve said that winning a drag pageant is on your bucket list. What would you wear?
It is! For a drag pageant, it would have to be a gown if I want to win. White Diamond in Steven Universe has this cape thing draping off of her arm with this almost skintight mermaid-style gown, and I’m obsessed with that silhouette. I would probably want to wear something like that.
Is the runway next?
I would kill to do that. I really enjoy photography modeling, but I hope that I’ll get to explore other sides to modeling one day. I have faith in myself, so I think I will.
How would you describe your personal style?
My personal style is a German 30-year-old wine drunk who’s the cool aunt. Vaguely, vaguely goth, but doesn’t really know what goth is, so she dresses in all black. Very that. In high school, I wore the same pink Jigglypuff sweater to school like almost every day, which was a choice that I made. It was a choice.
I wear a lot of black, because black is my favorite color. My sense of style is evolving, especially as I become more comfortable in my body. I’m starting to wear slightly more revealing clothes. Even a year ago, I would never consider wearing a crop top, but now I do.
Has your style changed since you’ve become more of a public figure? What about since studying in Japan?
I should say yes, but … College is hard, okay? I was not one of the girls that perks up at six in the morning and chooses a stylish outfit to go to her eight a.m. classes. I would wake up 20 minutes before class, throw on whatever, and go.
How does being a trans woman inform your style?
When I was in my teenage years, there was that lack of gender conformity. Realizing that you’re trans makes you more experimental with your personal sense of style. As a trans woman, my sense of style is less inhibited by societal gender roles, because I don’t give a fuck, I had to go through all of that already. I’ll wear men’s clothes, unisex clothes, whatever looks good to me. I like to think that my sense of style is very butch. No one else thinks I’m butch, but you know. We can strive.
Shortly after your Teen Vogue interview was published, your father went on a transphobic posting spree on X. What has dealing with the attention been like?
I’ve been reminding myself of the things that actually matter. It’s very important to me that the relationship dynamics I had with my friends before this newfound infamy remains the same after it. It’s not a taboo subject, or anything, but I’ve been cautious to make sure there’s not a difference in how we perceive or talk to each other.
It’s important to remain … I don’t want to say humble — I don’t think I am humble — but down-to-earth and grounded. It’s important to remind yourself, like, Girl, fame is fine … I don’t know if fame is the right word. This level of attention is cool or whatever, but ultimately what matters is authentic connection.
A lot of the messaging around the Wildfang campaign is about names — how they’re more than a label, they’re a personal act of liberation. What does being “Vivian Jenna Wilson” mean to you?
I chose three names, and all three of them are basic-white-girl names. I’m kidding! I love my name. It’s a representation of who I am as a trans woman. I am here — it’s something that I chose. I picked all three by myself, so it’s a point of confidence.
What does it mean to you to direct the profits from the shirt you designed to The Trevor Project?
Giving to the queer and trans community through fundraising is something I’m so honored that I get to do through this platform, and I’m going to continue doing it in the future. I’m not trying to sound like Mother Teresa, but it’s important to help the community sustain itself overall.
A lot of people, especially trans people and their allies, are feeling hopeless right now. What are you doing to stay levelheaded and make a difference?
My friends mean the absolute world to me. We have a little group chat, and last night, we were trying to learn the choreo to a song together. Whether [or not] that bond comes with queer people hopelessly trying to learn to shake ass … community is helpful. It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the state of the world, but those genuine moments of community can be really comforting.