In the fashion world, the 2000s are back. From social media posts to runways, all we’ve been seeing is low-rise jeans, metallic colors, frosted lipstick and… heroin chic?
A term defined by the runway stars of the 1990s, ‘heroin chic’ is an early-aughts beauty standard that emphasizes thinness that intentionally mimics the look of those addicted to heroin, a highly-addictive opioid. From Kate Moss to Jaime King, there was only one way to look on a runway: pale, tired, and slim to the point of sickness.
Like any trend though, this era didn’t last forever. In the 2010s, a radical shift to acceptance and ‘body positivity’ became the norm, with plus-sized model Ashley Graham becoming Vogue’s first plus-size cover star in 2017. Brands like Aerie, a popular athleisure brand and offshoot of major denim retailer American Eagle, built their identities off of inclusion, and for a while, it seemed like the fashion industry was in a good place.
Now, six years after the end of the 2010s body positivity movement, if we’re supposed to continue to making progress- why does it feel like we’re going back to where we started?
…
This regression seems to stem from, most notably, Ozempic. At its core, Ozempic is a form of injectable medicine that helps people manage Type Two Diabetes by mimicking a specific blood-sugar hormone, GLP-1, in the body. However, these GLP-1-producing medications have been co-opted by people who use it for its appetite-suppressing side effects, using it not to treat health conditions, but to assist in losing weight.
This is also not inherently bad- notably, people with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) and other conditions that make weight loss difficult have found Ozempic to be beneficial. The problem is that, in the past few years, celebrities and public figures with major influence have admitted to using GLP-1’s to supplement rapid and unhealthy weight loss. In March, Secret Lives of Mormon Wives star Layla Taylor confessed to using GLP-1 medications to lose weight, being open and honest about her struggles with an eating disorder and how GLP-1 medications fed into it, saying that “I don’t think I’ll ever be small enough in my head”. Taylor’s story echoes that of countless others, and it seems as if Heroin chic is taking on a new form, using Ozemic to push the same exclusive standards as its 2000s-era counterpart. According to Megan Jane Crabbe, author of We Don’t Make Ourselves Smaller Here – a book covering topics of psychology, body image and weight-loss – “With the massive rise of GLP-1 drugs and their widespread use as a quick fix weight loss solution, we’ve seen this return of the narrative that thin is back in… the beauty standard has swung back to extreme slimness.”
These shifting standards have begun to lead to a toxic culture surrounding weight and health, particularly in online communities. #Skinnitok, populated by weight-loss creators like Tiktoker Liv Schmidt, among others, encourages users to restrict their eating habits, preying on primarily on young, female viewers by repackaging the early 2000s unhealthy emphasis on weight loss into a ‘clean-girl’ lifestyle. Buzzwords like “intuitive eating” and “food noise” try to disguise the content hidden behind the aesthetic, with content and communities that encourage drastic and unhealthy action to be taken to lose weight- notably, in Liv Schmidts’ subscriber-only ‘Skinny Society’ community, women recounted stories of putting tape over their mouths to prevent nighttime overeating.
In comparison, similar groups have sprung up to prey on young men. ‘Looksmaxxing’, or trying to ‘maximize’ their potentially attractiveness, has grown increasingly popular on platforms like TikTok. Videos of creators talking about how they’ve broken their own facial bones to allow them to grow back in a more desirable way, or have even taken cocaine in order to cut cravings and stay slim, are actively aiming to influence viewers.
Whether it’s advertising skincare or steroids, ‘Looksmaxxing’ has done the same thing as #Skinnitok – its repackaged toxic ideas stemming from eating-disorders into polished self-betterment. This overall shift is why the rise of Ozempic is so threatening: it’s not saying the quiet part out loud. It’s impossible to call out behaviors and ideas reminiscent of an eating disorder if everything that’s unhealthy is supposedly good for you, ‘balancing your gut’ or ‘centering your nervous system’. According to Zoe Yu of the New York Times, Liv Schmidt’s content (and #Skinnitok as a whole) are “for the girl who’s done letting food control her life,” but her advice seems to leave that girl in an even tighter vise grip.”
It feels like a nightmarish chain reaction. Ozempic encourages weight loss, unhealthy weight loss breeds toxicity, that toxicity eventually moves, finds a place online, and it reaches at-risk people willing to do anything to feel better about themselves. Online, Ozempic is never mentioned, but always encouraged. Eating disorders are bad, but everyone has one. People need to feel comfortable around food, but never really enjoy it. It’s an echo chamber of Pro-Anorexia, Eating-Disorder-Twitter propaganda that we’re letting each other think is healthy.
Additionally, more often than not, the people who this content targets are young, as in Liv Schmidt’s aforementioned ‘Skinni Society’- members were known to be as young as high-schoolers, or Looksmaxxing influencer Clavicular’s primarily underage online fanbase. Unhealthy attitudes and dangerous life-long outlooks around food fester in groups of young people, in our own community, and the halls of Robinson.
However, even if it’s easier to give up on the 2010s aspirations of acceptance than to strive for them, it’s not a hopeless fight.
Combating disordered eating and toxic beauty standards has never been easy, but progress is being made. Laws are being implemented to regulate distribution and access to GLP-1 medications, and Tiktok and other social media platforms are cracking down on harmful content, banning key search terms like #Skinnitok.
Arguably of the most importance, however, is the conversations beginning to be had about the harmful effects of not only Ozempic and GLP-1 medications when used incorrectly, but about body image, self-confidence, and eating disorders. Give yourself a platform by speaking up against eating disorders in your own community, educate yourself on the issues at hand, and call out misinformation and toxic habits when you see them.
