Beauty standards in America have always been a moving target, shifting with the winds of culture, politics, and celebrity influence. But in 2025, the pendulum has swung with a vengeance, leaving advocates of body positivity wondering if the movement they fought so hard for has been all but erased. According to recent reporting from Slate and other outlets, the body positivity movement that gained traction throughout the 2010s has been undermined by a tidal wave of conservative rhetoric, a resurgent preference for thinness in the fashion and beauty industries, and the controversial use of drugs like Ozempic to achieve extreme weight loss.
It wasn’t so long ago that runways in New York, Paris, and Milan were finally opening up to a celebration of size and racial diversity. In 2020, designers around the world were praised for including models of different backgrounds and body types, signaling a more inclusive era for beauty. But as of 2025, that progress appears to have been rolled back. The return of the "heroin chic" look—emaciated, pale, and distinctly white—has been spotted on runways and in ad campaigns, drawing a stark contrast to the more inclusive standards that briefly held sway.
What happened? For some, the answer is as much political as it is cultural. President Donald Trump and his MAGA base have not been subtle about their views on women’s appearances. Trump’s history of degrading comments about women is well documented—he has publicly called women "fat," "pigs," and even referred to one woman as a "disgusting animal." According to reporting, these remarks have not just been offhand insults, but part of a broader cultural shift embraced by many conservatives. As the president and his followers continue to belittle women who don’t fit a narrow, thin, white mold, the beauty industry has followed suit, subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) reinforcing these ideals.
It’s not just the words of politicians that are shaping this new landscape. Social media, once a haven for body positivity and self-acceptance, has become a battleground. The rise of Ozempic—a drug originally intended to treat diabetes but now misused by celebrities and the wealthy to achieve rapid, unhealthy weight loss—has had a profound effect on online discourse. As Slate notes, "Ozempic has turned social media from a safe space into a minefield," making it harder for people to share and celebrate diverse bodies without facing backlash or comparison to unrealistic standards.
The Ozempic craze is emblematic of a deeper problem. Instead of being used for its intended medical purpose, the drug has become a tool for those chasing ever-skinnier ideals. It’s not lost on observers that the people most celebrated in this new era—those who grace billboards and magazine covers—are overwhelmingly thin and white, a standard that most American women neither match nor aspire to. The result? A growing sense of alienation and frustration among those who once felt empowered by the body positivity movement.
Meanwhile, the conservative movement has found new ways to shape the narrative around women’s bodies. The rise of "tradwives"—women who embrace traditional roles as stay-at-home moms and homemakers—has been widely celebrated on platforms like TikTok. These influencers are often held up as paragons of traditional femininity, but the expectation remains the same: whether dressed modestly or provocatively, the women who are celebrated are almost always thin and white.
Interestingly, the conservative embrace of certain kinds of female beauty has evolved. Past conservative movements often pushed for modest dress and traditional roles, but in 2025, there is a paradox at play. While tradwives are promoted for their adherence to traditional values, other women, like actress Sydney Sweeney, are featured in suggestive ads for brands such as American Eagle. This shift suggests that the real requirement isn’t modesty, but conformity to a specific (and exclusive) beauty ideal.
The manosphere—a loosely defined online community that includes figures like Andrew Tate—has played a role in normalizing disrespectful rhetoric toward women. What was once considered offensive or out of bounds is now commonplace in certain online spaces, further fueling a culture that devalues body diversity. According to reporting, "the manosphere... has, of course, latched onto Trump’s vile rhetoric towards the opposite sex. What was disrespectful to say of women ten years ago is now the norm in the manosphere and some conservative circles."
As these attitudes become more mainstream, the fashion industry has responded in kind. The return of low-rise jeans and the "heroin chic" aesthetic—once hallmarks of the early 2000s—signal a broader rejection of the self-care and inclusivity that defined the last decade. This isn’t just a matter of style; it’s a cultural about-face that leaves little room for those who don’t fit the mold.
Social media, which once provided a platform for body positivity advocates to connect and inspire, now feels like a minefield for many. The prevalence of Ozempic and other quick-fix weight loss solutions has made it harder than ever to push back against unrealistic standards. As Slate asks, "Is #BodyPositivity Over?" The question is more than rhetorical; it’s a reflection of the anxiety and uncertainty felt by many in the current moment.
Of course, beauty trends have always been cyclical. The popularity of makeup looks from 2016 has faded, while early 2000s fashion is back in a big way. But the current climate feels different, tinged with a sense of loss for the progress that was made—and a concern for what comes next. For those who have watched the rise and fall of body positivity, the return of exclusionary beauty standards is a sobering reminder that cultural change is never permanent.
It’s tempting to look for a silver lining, to hope that the pendulum will swing back toward inclusivity. But for now, the message from the runways, the White House, and social media seems clear: the era of body positivity is on the ropes, and the pressure to conform to a narrow, unattainable ideal is stronger than ever. As the world watches the evolution of beauty standards in 2025, one thing is certain—this conversation is far from over.
