Ah, the fashion industry. That magical realm where creativity meets couture, where art is stitched into every seam, and where progress goes to die. For a fleeting, glorious moment in the 2010s, body positivity strutted down the runway, flipping the bird to decades of size-zero tyranny. But now, in the grand tradition of the industry treating human bodies like seasonal accessories, we’re back to worshipping at the altar of the emaciated silhouette. Spoiler alert: skinny is back, baby. And this time, it’s medically induced!
The Glorious (But Brief) Rebellion: 2010s Body Positivity
Ah, the 2010s—a time when Instagram was fresh, influencers weren’t yet existential threats to society, and the fashion world pretended to care about diversity. Thanks to the rise of social media and the Kardashian family’s strategic weaponization of their curves, the body positivity movement found itself thrust into the limelight. For once, models with actual hips were celebrated, and “plus-size” wasn’t code for “you’re hired because we need to meet a quota.”
Enter Ashley Graham, Felicity Hayward, and Rihanna’s Savage X Fenty shows, where bodies of all shapes danced, posed, and generally existed without being shamed into oblivion. Brands acted like they’d discovered the revolutionary concept that humans come in different sizes. It was radical. It was empowering. It was… profitable. And therein lay the problem.
The 2020s: When Body Positivity Lost to Big Pharma
Fast forward to 2024, and the runways look like they’re auditioning for a reboot of “The Hunger Games.” What happened? Did society suddenly decide that diversity was overrated? Not exactly. The culprit behind fashion’s backslide into size-zero chic is none other than Ozempic, the diabetes drug turned miracle weight-loss solution.
Yes, the drug designed to manage blood sugar levels is now a must-have accessory for celebrities and influencers desperate to achieve that “just-diagnosed-with-scurvy” look. Elon Musk himself credited Ozempic for his sleek new figure, because nothing says “fashion icon” like the guy who launched a car into space.
Designers, ever the paragons of originality, have eagerly embraced this trend. Why celebrate natural body diversity when you can promote an aesthetic achieved through weekly injections and side effects? “I love Ozempic” T-shirts even graced Berlin Fashion Week, a stunning example of satire so on-the-nose it might as well have been written in eyeliner.
Paris: Where Inclusivity Goes to Die
Paris Fashion Week, the industry’s crown jewel, has always been a temple of exclusivity. In 2025, it doubled down on this reputation with runways dominated by models who could disappear if they turned sideways. Nan Li of Namilia put it bluntly: “Paris celebrates elitism, and elitism means skinny and white.” Well, at least someone said it out loud.
Designers like Charles Jeffrey LOVERBOY cling to inclusivity like it’s a vintage accessory—rare and valuable. But for most brands, body positivity was just a trend to exploit, much like neon colors or dad sneakers. The moment it stopped being commercially advantageous, it was tossed aside faster than last season’s It-bag.
The Token Plus-Size Model: Because Optics Matter
In the current landscape, plus-size models aren’t so much celebrated as tolerated. They’re the human equivalent of a diversity checkbox: present just enough to avoid backlash but never enough to disrupt the status quo. Enrika, a plus-size model, summed it up perfectly: “It sends the message that, 'We don’t actually think you look as good as the slim models in our skirt. But we accept you because we are such kind-hearted good people, so please give us your hard-earned money.'”
And isn’t that the crux of it? The fashion industry’s version of “inclusivity” is performative at best and manipulative at worst. Stretch marks are cool… but only if they’re on display in a curated campaign designed to go viral. Real diversity? Too risky.
Blame the Consumer? Sure, Why Not?
In a twist of peak gaslighting, fashion insiders have now pivoted to blaming consumers for the industry's backslide. Shaun Beyen, a casting director, mused, “Everything is consumer-driven.” Translation: “It’s not our fault we’re shallow. You made us this way.”
Apparently, if we just stopped buying clothes from brands that peddle unrealistic beauty standards, they’d magically become ethical paragons. Because nothing motivates a multinational corporation like your angry tweet, right?
The Inevitable Pendulum Swing
Here’s the thing about trends: they’re cyclical. What’s “out” today will be “in” tomorrow, whether it’s flared jeans, mullets, or, yes, body positivity. The pendulum will swing back because that’s how fashion works. But the real question is: should we be satisfied with progress that only exists until the next trend comes along?
Instead of waiting for body positivity to become fashionable again, maybe it’s time to demand that it stop being treated like a fad. Because bodies aren’t trends. They’re not seasonal. They’re not collections to be showcased and discarded. They’re people.
So the next time you see a brand patting itself on the back for casting a single plus-size model, remember: inclusivity isn’t a marketing strategy. It’s the bare minimum. And frankly, the industry should be embarrassed that we’re still having this conversation.
Final Thought: Fashion, Do Better
Fashion loves to think of itself as progressive, boundary-pushing, and revolutionary. But when it comes to body diversity, it’s more like that one friend who “doesn’t see color” but somehow only ever dates people who look the same. The industry can’t keep pretending that swapping one body trend for another is progress. It’s not.
Until the day comes when diversity isn’t treated like a bold political statement but as the norm, the fashion world will remain what it has always been: an exclusive club, occasionally opening its doors just wide enough to maintain the illusion of inclusivity.
And honestly, it’s getting old.
Chicmi