Skinny Is Back,But Who Asked For It?
Namilla Berlin FW25
Hello to my two readers, I’m back.
I was Livin’ La Vida Loca this summer, but now it’s time to put down the mezcal margaritas and get serious.
The Victoria's Secret Fashion Show is making its return this October after a five-year hiatus. Will I be watching? Yes. Will I be judging the brand’s attempt to salvage its problematic history? Absolutely. Will I be hoping for some kind of interaction between Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks? 100%. Though let’s be honest, Naomi won’t set foot anywhere near that spectacle without a major check.
Anyway, let’s rewind and refresh.
It was 2014, and I was working at my local Victoria’s Secret in Columbus, Ohio. I roamed the sales floor with a pink measuring tape around my neck, ready to size up fellow teenage girls and direct them to lingerie they’d be sure to stash somewhere safe from the prying eyes of their mothers. Every quarter, I got 2-3 free bras to provide “authentic testimonials” to customers. I loved that job—except during the Semi-Annual Sale, when I wanted to (trigger) hang myself with that said measuring tape. On loop, massive LCD screens blasted highlights from the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. I probably saw Taylor Hill’s runway walk or a close-up of Candice Swanepoel’s Fantasy Bra-clad, perfectly chiseled body at least a hundred times during my shifts.
Lots to think about in this photo
By that point, Victoria’s Secret was only partially responsible my body dysmorphia. I grew up on America’s Next Top Model, Skins, and Ugly Betty. I was on Tumblr dot com during the “thigh gap era.” And a new app called Facetune was making the rounds on Instagram, perfect for shedding an extra 10-20 pounds in only a few seconds. I am still haunted by the digital abominations I would post, oblivious to the misshapen doors or railings behind me.
I can joke and tease, but the scars of living through that era as a teenager and young adult are still present in my daily life. I still have a complicated relationship with food and my body. So it’s been much to my chagrin to see a triumphant return of problematic body negative rhetoric.
Girls today face even bigger demons than we did. I used to spend maybe an hour on Tumblr after school before heading back to build my Sims 3 empire. But today, we—teenage girls and grown women alike—are immersed in social media. I, with my fully formed frontal lobe, can spot toxic content and block it. But for teenage girls, engagement is much more likely. I’m sure there’s a 17-year-old somewhere who watched a video of Liv Schmidt claiming tomatoes make people fat and shared it with her friend for a laugh. But for her, for me, and for most women, the subliminal effects of these recurring themes stick around for a lot longer than the joke.
Ozempic and the return of grunge fashion have breathed new life into those old toxic body trends. I’d be lying if I said my friends and I haven’t talked about Ozempic. Let’s be clear—these trends never fully went away. The world has always been pro-skinny. But we’ve spent nearly a decade trying to heal our minds with body positivity and diversity. Now, I am genuinely fearful for erasure of the body positive movement. A July article from Vogue Business gets right to the point in connecting the dots and dollars behind the Ozempic-fueled fashion backslide we’re seeing:
“The Ozempic effect is in full swing, as the diabetes medication has skyrocketed in popularity over the past two years as the not-so-secret weight loss weapon of the rich and famous. Now, the drug’s knock-on effect for fashion and beauty is becoming clearer. Fashion may just see a windfall. As Ozempic use grows, GLP-1s will provide ‘structural tailwinds’ for the apparel industry, wrote Deutsche Bank analyst Adam Cochrane in a note, as users refresh their wardrobes following Ozempic-induced weight loss. According to the Bank of America, consumers are expected to refresh their wardrobe ‘for every two size changes.’ Analysts agree that the pop culture influence of weight loss drugs is giving luxury labels and mass-market brands alike the green light to refocus on straight sizes.”
This October, I’m sure Victoria’s Secret will follow in the footsteps of Rihanna and Savage X Fenty by showcasing body diversity on their runway. It will be yet another PR ploy for the struggling mall retailer that spent decades shaping the global conversation about women’s bodies. Will it be enough to negate the toxic rhetoric making a comeback online? No. The buzz will last about two seconds before it’s drowned out by the chaos of the election cycle.
As I reflect, it feels like wounds that were nearly healed are starting to reopen. I know it’s quite the leap to begin this with Ricky Martin and end with darker cynicism, but I have to be honest with you. It’s not a question of if these trends and their accompanying rhetoric will have a major cultural impact—they already are. And it’s not a question of if the body-positive movement will face serious challenges in the coming months and years. It’s happening right now. There’s no doubt that girls and women everywhere are gearing up for yet another war—one between their minds, their bodies, and the media.
I can only hope that we can learn from our scars. I like to think this time we’re going in with our eyes wide open—and that’s half the fight won.
