Everyone’s rebranding. Kareena Kapoor Khan is the brand

In Bollywood, longevity has always been a man’s privilege. Some of the most enduring faces in the industry—Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan—have aged into archetypes: the patriarch, the evergreen hero, the saviour. For women, time has rarely been as generous.

The Hindi-film heroine is usually in her twenties, notes film scholar Rachel Dwyer in Bollywood’s India: Hindi Cinema as a Guide to Contemporary India (2014), while most of her male co-stars have often been acting for decades. It’s a pattern so predictable it feels institutional, which is what makes Kareena Kapoor Khan’s trajectory an anomaly. Twenty-five years, 68 films, and still the face on the poster. “She can cut across generations,” says writer and director Abhishek Chaubey. “She can have a 70-year-old fan and a seven-year-old fan.”

The evolution of the modern heroine in Bollywood 

Before Kareena, a few women stretched the limits of how long the camera stayed interested. Sharmila Tagore balanced Satyajit Ray’s realism with commercial glamour. Rekha never retired, though the roles that once desired her slowly began to disappear. Sridevi ruled the roost across languages, stepped away in the late 1990s, and returned with English Vinglish (2012) and Mom (2017), rare mainstream films led by a woman in her forties. Tabu has outlasted every trend by refusing to choose between art and commerce.

“Anyone who moves between both worlds—the commercial and the smaller, more craft-driven films—ends up extending their career,” says film critic Baradwaj Rangan. “Their stardom rubs off on the smaller films, and the craft they gain from those smaller films rubs off on the bigger ones.”

For most actors, longevity was a negotiation between opportunity and choice. Kareena’s endurance is different. She never stepped away, recalibrated, or made a comeback. She simply kept going and stayed where Hindi cinema least expects women to remain: at the centre. “She’s been vocal about how she loves all the naach-gaana, the glamour, but she’s also put herself out there in projects that aren’t so commercial,” adds Rangan.

Kareena’s endurance belongs to the present tense. She’s still here, still bankable, still central. In an industry that ages women out by the time they turn 35, she isn’t an exception, she’s an evolution.

Between art and commerce: The grammar of Kareena Kapoor Khan’s filmography 

Even as plotlines in Bollywood evolved, its women rarely did. Female characters were written as moral anchors or ornamental presences with characters orbiting male ambition. Kareena arrived at the moment Hindi cinema learned to speak two languages—spectacle and realism. Lagaan and Dil Chahta Hai (2001) marked that shift, and she became fluent in both dialects.

“She rode that wave,” says Rangan. “Back then, multiplex cinema made something like Chameli (2003) possible. Today, that film would be impossible to mount.”

Kareena’s debut film, Refugee(2000), directed by JP Dutta, wasn’t the typical bubblegum launch. She followed it with Asoka(2001), opposite Shah Rukh Khan—a historical epic that resisted convention. In the same year, Karan Johar created Bollywood’s first modern cultural archetype: Poo—aspirational, self-aware, and entirely self-possessed. Two decades later, Gen Z still uses “Poo energy” as shorthand for unabashed confidence. 

“For Kareena, it could have been easy to be defined as Karisma’s [Kapoor] sister or Raj Kapoor’s granddaughter,” says designer Manish Malhotra. “But she never allowed that. Chameli is what I immediately remember—not every star kid would have chosen that.”

Kareena wielded glamour as a tool, not a trap. From Omkara (2006) to Udta Punjab (2016), her fluency to straddle spectacle and substance became her greatest currency. Chaubey, who co-wrote Omkara and later directed Udta Punjab, recalls Kareena’s focus as meticulous. It wasn’t a glamorous role—she played a doctor and activist caught in Punjab’s drug crisis—but she stayed long after her scenes were done, observing the rhythm of the shoot. That quiet rigour, Chaubey says, defines her. “She has this amazing understanding of movies and she knows how to sort of transform herself for the kind of character in the film that she's in. That's her real talent.”

Director R. Balki calls it instinct. “She’s one of the most spontaneous and natural performers. She doesn’t intellectualise; she just gets it.”

The persistence of stardom: Kareena Kapoor Khan in the age of streaming  

Two decades later, the ecosystem has shifted, though not entirely enough. Between 2022 and 2023, female representation across key creative roles in the Indian entertainment industry—directors, writers, producers—grew by just three per cent, driven largely by women entering streaming writers’ rooms. The change is incremental, but it signals where power is beginning to move.

Streaming has opened new spaces for women to tell—and headline—stories that once struggled to find theatrical footing. For Kareena, that shift was organic. “Kareena primarily looks at the script first, and once her part resonates with her, she’s confident that we, the people making the film, will do our best,” says Jay Shewakramani, co-producer of Jaane Jaan(2023), her first streaming release. “When you’re as good at your craft as Kareena is, the medium doesn’t matter—longevity isn’t an issue.”

 “She’ll be remembered for her roles, but even more for her personality” - Abhishek Chaubey 

Kareena’s move to streaming wasn’t an attempt at reinvention; it was continuity. Jaane Jaan marked her digital debut, but its sensibility—intimate, character-driven, and quietly stylish—fits within the same range that defines her recent work. From Crew(2024) to The Buckingham Murders(2023), she’s choosing stories across the spectrum: noir, comedy, grief. Together, they reflect what Hindi cinema is becoming: varied in form, aware of its own tropes, still learning how to tell women’s stories without apology.

Balki believes that plurality has always been part of the film industry. “There have always been testosterone-fuelled blockbusters, family sagas, socially aware dramas, and women-led narratives,” he says. “It’s not like there was an era where it was only male-dominated, or we suddenly grew up.” 

Kareena didn’t create that change; she embodied it. She moved through multiple cultural turning points, recalibrating her stardom each time without losing the crux of her identity. “When you have a personality that is distinctive and special,” says Balki, “you can straddle all kinds of cinema very easily, because at the core, you are very clear that you are Kareena Kapoor [Khan], playing that.”

The business of being Kareena Kapoor Khan

What began as stardom has matured into strategy on how to turn presence into power. “Today’s stars might be very popular, good-looking, talented, admired—but they seem to be missing that one X factor,” says Chaubey. “That quality where, the moment they walk into a frame, audiences automatically look at them.” Kareena still has that quality. "She’s always had that something, you know? She’s done her share of songs, the whole size-zero phase—there’s always a buzz around her, something about her that keeps her in the news... With rare exceptions, she’s always managed to stay relevant," says Rangan.  

In 2024, Kroll valued Kareena’s brand at $79.5 million, placing her among India’s top celebrity names. Yet, even that level of visibility has required recalibration. 

Known to get into the skin of every character she plays, Kareena's transformation to size zero for Tashan (2008) was scrutinised by the media for being problematic, aspirational, and catalytic all at once. Kareena became a mirror to the contradictions of urban India—women seeking control, admiration, and acceptance. Magazine covers featured her in crop tops, offering “size-zero tips.” Fitness trainers and beauty clinics promised “Kareena curves” in 30 days. She may not have created India's thinness obsession, but back then, she became the face of it. Kareena has long distanced herself from the size-zero identity, instead talking about real fitness, her love for food, and owning her body.

At the height of her ubiquity, she was one of the most-advertised faces on Indian television in 2016. Longevity, however, demands restraint as much as reach. She scaled down endorsements to premium partnerships, evolving from ambassador to custodian. 

Over 25 years, Kareena has built an ecosystem that spans beauty, wellness, and finance with the same fluency she once brought to both Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham and Chameli. 

Brand Kareena: Timeless by design

Beyond endorsements, Kareena has evolved into a brand architect. As co-owner of QuenchBotanics, a K-beauty-inspired skincare brand, Kareena doesn’t just lend her face—she helps define its ethos. “For Gen Z, she represents confidence, individuality, and self-expression,” say the brand’s co-founders Vineeta Singh and Kaushik Mukherjee. “Her unapologetic authenticity is exactly what they connect with.”  

It is this instinct that defines her longest-running partnership too: with Lakmé, where she has been the face of Indian beauty for two decades. “Choosing Kareena isn’t about legacy,” says Sunanda Khaitan, Vice President and Head of Marketing, Lakmé. “It’s about recognising that timelessness and modernity together create deeper, more meaningful connections.”  

That sense of continuity extends into her newer collaborations. Akash Mehta, co-founder of Fable & Mane, describes Kareena as someone who embodies authenticity and groundedness throughout her career. “She blends heritage with a modern outlook, celebrating rituals like yoga, Ayurveda, and mindful self-care, but always in a way that feels accessible and contemporary to people everywhere.”

“For us, Kareena isn’t just a star. Her authenticity and timelessness are exactly what make her such a powerful global voice for beauty and wellness today,” he adds.

That balance between mass appeal and maturity defines her next chapter too. “Her longevity offers something rare—cultural resonance that spans generations,” says Cindy Palusamy, founder of CP Strategy, a global boutique advisory practice. “She can represent mass-market beauty and a global financial powerhouse, without contradiction.” At 45, Kareena’s partnership with HSBC signals a move into a new kind of visibility, one built on credibility rather than ubiquity. Sandeep Batra, Managing Director, Head of Wealth and Personal Banking, HSBC India, adds, “[Her] brand power and legacy serve as a reminder that women can—and should—aspire to lead, invest, and create wealth on their own terms.”

The politics of visibility

Visibility for women in Indian cinema has never been neutral; it is both a privilege and a negotiation. Kareena’s visibility, sustained for over 25 years, speaks to a kind of cultural permanence that transcends hype, trend, and time. Each decade has simply expanded the world she already occupies.

“Kareena doesn’t just act,” says Malhotra. “She becomes the mood. When she played Poo, she created an attitude that defined an entire generation.” That attitude hasn’t aged; it has only adapted effortlessly. “She’s always herself,” says creator and actor Dolly Singh. “And Gen Z loves that. They want real people, real faces, real humour, not pretence.”

“One mistake people make while assessing Kareena is assuming she’s overly inclined toward glamour,” says Chaubey. “Longevity isn’t about looking great, it’s about talent and application. You still have to convince the audience that you can move them—that’s the only way you remain a box-office draw. That’s why Kareena is still relevant today.”

“She’s always herself. And Gen Z loves that. They want real people, real faces, real humour, not pretence” - Dolly Singh

This year alone, she has signed on for her 68th film, Daayra, directed by Meghna Gulzar and co-starring Prithviraj Sukumaran. She’s earned two Filmfare nominations—for Crew and The Buckingham Murders—and her renewed partnership with Lakmé after two decades feels fitting.

In a culture obsessed with youth, Kareena has made time itself part of her appeal. Her longevity, Mehta notes, isn’t about resisting age but about embodying heritage and modernity in equal measure. “The old model of youth at all costs no longer dominates,” adds Palusamy. “Consumers now respond to role models with real lives and the kind of confidence that comes only with time.”

“In ten years, she’ll be in her 50s, and we’ll need stars in their 50s because so many good parts can be written around that,” says Chaubey. “She’ll be remembered for her roles, but even more for her personality.” 

That persona has always been candid and unflinching. “There’s a certain curiosity about the Kapoors,” says Rangan. With Kareena, that interest has never faded, whether it’s her film choices, her life, or her honesty. “She’s never been apologetic about who she is or where she comes from.” And in an industry that mistakes noise for relevance, Kareena’s quiet certainty might just be the loudest thing about her.

“Fame has never defined Kareena; she has defined it for herself,” says Malhotra. “In the beginning, there was the excitement of a young actress making her mark—the premieres, the magazines, the paparazzi. Today, she’s a wife, a mother, and a superstar, and she balances it all with ease. What’s not changed at all is her self-belief. That famous line of hers, ‘Main apni favourite hoon’—that’s truly her. She’s always known her worth.”