Eileen Gu is in a Very Chinese Time in Her Life
Derek Zheng/The China Project
By Anaïs Skok
Eileen Gu paints a wide-eyed picture of heroism in the age of virality. With snappy interview responses and a face for magazine covers, she has dominated the coverage of the 2026 Winter Olympics.
Gu, the most decorated Olympian in the history of freestyle skiing, unlocked the product-market fit that would launch her career with her decision to represent Team China in 2019. She is a Stanford-model-Olympian-idol-to-Chinese-girls, in no particular order.
Born and raised in San Francisco by her Chinese mother, Gu’s cultural identity was shaped by American schooling and Chinese summers. As she explains, Gu’s decision to compete for China was driven by a desire to inspire young Chinese girls by representing them.
For many Chinese netizens, she is a U.S.-born patriot who chose China over its nemesis. For many American citizens, that very choice is confusing. Regardless of whose perspective you consider, Gu’s presence on Team China is controversial. Though athletes with dual citizenship may compete in the Olympics for either country of their choosing, China strictly forbids dual nationality.
Facing international scrutiny about her passport(s), Gu claimed, “When I’m in China, I’m Chinese, and when I go to America, I’m American.”
Though this might be convincing as a cultural narrative—embodied by members of the Chinese diaspora—Gu is somehow able to dodge the regulatory barriers that remain enforced for her peers. Though she is not the first foreign-born athlete to compete for China, she is the first to do so without giving up her American passport. Athletes like Alex Tian Hua and Beverly Zhu both naturalized into Chinese citizenship in order to compete.
Evidence suggests that Gu has not renounced her American citizenship, unlike her peers. But while representing China, Gu profits immensely. In 2025 alone, she earned a whopping $23 million as the fourth-highest-paid female athlete. Make no mistake, that is not the average income of an Olympic skier. Only $100,000 of Gu’s $23 million came from her success in skiing.
The rest? Gu's brand value, which soared after aligning with her motherland, where she’s been crowned the billboard darling. Today, she represents luxury brands, supercars, Chinese banks, consumer goods, and everything in between. Even before her debut in the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics, Gu was the face of at least 23 companies, earning over $31 million in endorsements.
Perhaps Eileen Gu is perfect for the appetite of Chinese consumers. Could it be that, in this time of adversity and finger-pointing, she is the pro-China pill that crowns China the "winner"?
If that is the case, Beverly Zhu, who competed as Zhu Yi, gave up her American passport for a fraction of the benefits. Also a California native, the American-Chinese figure skater renounced her American citizenship in 2018 to debut alongside Gu in the Beijing Winter Olympics.
Despite repatriating to the highest degree, Zhu did not become a household name like Eileen Gu. No, Zhu has yet to receive brand endorsements of any caliber.
That said, Eileen Gu is a true asset to China’s Olympic prowess, adding three medals to its roster in Milan Cortina. From academic excellence (Stanford) to professional achievements (Olympics), on half-pipes and fashion runways (Prada), she is a prime example of a girl that does it all.
However, what is representation if her privilege is so far removed from the reality of Chinese girls, if her achievements are closer to impossibility than hard work? Gu is a Stanford legacy with cultural fluidity built by costly annual travels and Californian individualism. Her “Wasian” (white-asian) features, arguably a major value-driving differentiator, inadvertently exempt her from the imperialist beauty standards prevalent in East Asia.
In the end, this is not the time to launch a witch hunt on Eileen Gu, or conduct an inquisition into her citizenship. She remains a world-class athlete with sharp business acumen. In a frictionless world that does not care about privilege, she would not have to wade through the muddy waters of representation as it relates to identity, or choose sides in inherited cultures.
But such a world does not exist. Despite her accomplishments, Eileen Gu’s multi-million dollar platform comes at the cost of controversy.
Gu may naively hope that her success rouses the ambition of little hearts, but when little girls look up at billboards of Eileen Gu in China, do they see a relatable past that inspires, or an unattainable picture of life?