Everyone’s on Ozempic: Has skinny culture become fashion’s favourite comeback?

Content Warning: weight loss, eating disorders, negative relationships with food

Society’s fixation with being skinny has persisted for decades. In recent years, the fashion industry has promised us change – diversity campaigns, body positivity, and plus-size models on the runway suggested that we’re finally moving away from one narrow definition of beauty. Yet, thanks to TikTok algorithms, celebrity bodies, and the rise of weight-loss injectables like Ozempic, the ultra-thin ideal is creeping back.

Instead of size-zero models and nineties heroin chic, we now have movements like ‘Skinnytok’ dominating our feeds. The message has remained the same: thin is still seen as aspirational.

Aesthetic déjà vu: Fashion has been here before

The early 2010s Tumblr played a huge role in glorifying thinness. Blogs centred around ‘thinspo’ and ‘depressed cool girl’ aesthetic, embodied by characters like Effy Stonem from Skins, dominated the platform. Fatphobia was ingrained into the culture, which became a digital revival of 90s heroin chic. With as many as 160 million users at its peak, it left a lasting mark on how young people viewed their bodies growing up.

Kate Moss’s infamous quote from Womens Wear Daily in 2009, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”, still haunts weight loss culture today, and remains a mantra for many so-called ‘skinny’ influencers.

Fashion has deep ties to this infatuation – both at the origin of designers and all the way up to the editors who market this content. Clothes are modelled and fitted to paper-thin models, so much so that there are cases of young girls being hospitalised due to being on the edge of starvation. This is no secret, as fashion films like The Devil Wears Prada highlight the cutthroat ‘size-zero’ industry, and the competitiveness to be as thin as possible.

Skinnytok: the digital cult of thinness

TikTok has allowed toxic subcultures like ‘SkinnyTok’ to thrive. Influencers recruit followers to become thinner, convincing them that they don’t need to treat themselves, because they’re “not a dog”, a quote frequently used under the Skinnytok hashtag. Harmful language like this has yielded many followers and sadly normalised restriction and disordered eating.

TikTok eventually banned the hashtag SkinnyTok in June 2025, however the videos didn’t disappear. That’s the danger of algorithmic beauty standards: once they take hold, they multiply.

This world can feel cult-like. Creators position themselves as leaders and make videos preaching goals of being skinny. SkinnyTok has also learnt to control people through guilt-based messaging. Once you become part of it, it’s hard to get out of it. Algorithms show the same type of videos repeatedly to groom us – searching just once for ‘skinnytok’ can bring an onslaught of videos onto your For-You page.

During economic instability, trends like this take hold more easily. Many of us may feel insecure with ourselves, so begin searching for an identity. On the surface, these videos may appear good, even helping some lose weight, but beneath the desirable lifestyles, they’re fundamentally reiterating eating disorder culture, just in a different font.

Ozempic: The Hollywood shortcut

Enter Ozempic – the worst-kept celebrity weight-loss secret.

Since its creation to target and treat type 2 diabetes, Ozempic has been used to reduce appetite and caloric intake by creating feelings of fullness to help its users lose weight quicker. Critics argue it’s the ‘lazy’ way to lose weight and takes resources away from those who genuinely need it. Misuse can lead to disastrous consequences: increase in thyroid cancer, malfunctioning of the kidneys and colon, and depression and anxiety.

In the UK, current injectable weight-loss treatments are Mounjaro, Wegovy and Saxenda, which are only available via prescription from a healthcare professional. Yet, with Google searches rising by 436% in the last five years, their popularity online has triggered a surge in illegal sales. Earlier this year, counterfeit medicines were seized in London, including Ozempic and Mounjaro. There are many more cases of other fakes found across the UK, which has put people’s health at risk. What started as a vanity project has now spiralled into a public health issue.

There have been so many people in the public eye who glorify and concede to weight loss, such as Elon Musk. While public figures flaunt their rapid transformations, they’re only reinforcing the narrative that thinner is better – and it’s better to get there fast.

Is fashion still complicit?

Runways and brands claim to support body diversity. Savage X Fenty’s body-inclusive shows, and other high profile events such as Paris Fashion Week, have featured more body diversity, signalling at some pushback to the toxic environment. High-street brands like M&S offer clothing up to size 24, amongst many others.

However, the contradiction remains. Adverts from Zara, Next and even M&S have been banned following complaints over ultra-skinny models. Thinness still dominates luxury imagery, editorials, and trend forecasting. Many of us are hyper-aware of how harmful this media can be, especially to young people.

Paired with the rise of weight-loss injections, it’s important to be mindful of how the fashion industry can be guilty of glamourising dangerous behaviour.

Breaking the cycle

Diet culture isn’t new, but social media has given it the spotlight. Videos like ‘What I eat in a day’ can be harmless and often entertaining to watch, giving recipe ideas (which are especially useful as a struggling student). But, like everything with ‘SkinnyTok’, it has a dark side. People use them to almost ‘show off’ how little they can eat, reiterating the competitiveness that underlies much of this skinny rhetoric.

Everything in this world can be consuming, and diet culture is particularly relentless. This world can seep in to our real lives and become a constant day-to-day burden. Before long, we can get sucked into this cycle — and, thanks to algorithms, we might not even realise it. One video leads to another, and suddenly our routines are orbiting the same unrealistic ideal. An exhausting loop of comparison and critique, it feels hard to step away.

The good news is that we don’t have to participate: we can mute toxic accounts, support brands which show real bodies, and talk to our friends and family openly about food and self-image without shame. Backlash against this regression is led by body-positive advocates, like Ashley Graham, continuing to challenge the standards set by society, and brands like SKIMS prove that inclusivity is a necessity, not just a trend, with their expansive size-range.

The ultra-thin ideal only survives if we give it attention. Beauty doesn’t need to look one way, and fashion is at its best when everyone can exist in it.

If you, or anyone you know, is being affected by these issues, please use: Beat, Mind, Shout, or Spectrum.life for more support.