Has anyone noticed a shift lately? You open TikTok and sift through videos of ‘fit checks, body checks, workout tips, not feeling much of anything at all. Except, of course, that vague sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. Is that influencer so slim because she follows a clean-eating plan, or because she doesn’t eat at all? Maybe there’s a seismic change in the air. Celebrities are losing weight, even those who branded themselves as body-positive icons. Others are being scrutinised for signs they’re taking weight-loss drugs. Lana Del Rey, a star once reviled for no longer looking 25 years old, appeared at Coachella looking 25 years old. The internet’s reaction to her reclaimed thinness was “WE ARE SO BACK”. A stranger’s weight loss, it would seem, is a harbinger of hope. Or maybe a testament that fat shaming works.
‘I’ve seen a huge uptick in content online that promotes diet culture, and very often tips over into eating-disorder territory,’ says Alex Light, a body-image speaker. ‘A lot of it is subtle, disguised as “wellness”, but some of it is blatant – like “what I eat in a day” videos glorifying extremely low-calorie [diets], or creators encouraging their followers to be “skinny legends”.’
When you start to notice them, the signs are everywhere. Noughties fashion trends are having a revival, along with the idealisation of Noughties-era bodies. Wellness discourse is crossing into alt-right territory. AI is making everyone even more image obsessedwith people asking ChatGPT if they’re ‘hot enough’. Politics is influencing beauty trends. Unabashed ‘skinny influencers’ are mainstream. What on earth happened, would be a fair question to ask. Didn’t we all agree, around a decade ago, that diet culture was bad? That there’s more to life than being thin?
‘Arguably what scares me more is the engagement on these posts: thousands of likes and comments applauding the dedication, or asking for tips,’ Light continues. ‘It shows this isn’t happening in a vacuum – there’s a wider cultural appetite for this kind of content.’
An ‘anti-diet advocate’, Light is the author of You Are Not a Before Picture and co-host of Should I Delete That?, a podcast she co-hosts with Em Clarkson, which attempts to apply the nuance ‘that is often left out of the polarising conversations that take place on social media’. Indeed, these symptoms of our divided times could be linked to diet culture’s big comeback. ‘The algorithm doesn’t tend to reward nuance, compassion or content that doesn’t focus on aesthetics or transformation,’ Light says. ‘What’s common is ‘wellness’ content that ends up reinforcing body ideals: ‘gentle’ weight-loss goals, ‘healthy swaps’ or hyper-disciplined routines. It might not look like traditional diet culture on the surface, but it reinforces the idea that your body is a problem to fix.’
Dr Johanna Keeler, a psychologist specialising in eating disorders, confirms that seemingly benign social-media content can have an insidious effect. She points to a recent study of TikTok algorithms, which found that people with an eating disorder were far more likely to be shown appearance-oriented, dieting and exercise content. (‘They were 4343% more likely to be shown toxic eating-disorder videos,’ she adds.) The problem is that the algorithm perpetuates a ‘vicious circle’ – those with eating disorders are more likely to be shown triggering content, and the triggering content exacerbates disordered eating. ‘The worrying thing is that, because of smartphones, we’re exposed to this content a lot more.’ This is made more extreme due to tailored content from the algorithms, causing vulnerable people to get stuck in a harmful echo chamber.
It’s not the first time social media has sparked these concerns. ‘This era echoes pro-anorexia Tumblr, but it has a shinier, more socially acceptable veneer,’ Light says. The website was host to a huge number of ‘pro-ana’ blogs that posted ‘thinspiration’ in the form of personal pictures and Kate Moss gifs, fostering one-upmanship around users’ daily food intake and workout routines. While this phenomenon was more brazen in its promotion of dieting, Light argues that ‘the result is the same: we’re still being told that our value hinges on how small, controlled and ideal our bodies look’.
A lot of today’s viral content is more implicit in its promotion of the beauty standard – a cursory glance at Instagram’s Explore page will reveal paparazzi pictures of celebrities in bikinis, their figures picked apart in the comments, and fitness influencers sharing weight-loss tips. ‘It’s dressed up as “wellness”, “clean living” or “biohacking”,’ Light says, referencing the coded terms creators use to avoid being cancelled. But as Keeler’s research suggests, this can function as a gateway to more extreme, pro-ana subcultures, and influencers who are less precious about their wording. Liv Schmidt, a 23-year-old former TikTok creator, shared videos telling followers what she eats in a day ‘to stay skinny’, with slogans including: ‘It’s not a sin to want to be thin’. After being barred from the app, Schmidt started a membership programme she calls the Skinni Société, where subscribers pay $20 a month to gain access to her ‘portion-controlled’ food diaries, and group chats where members compare step counts and ‘progress pics’.
‘Seeing Gen Z engage with his rhetoric has been a big shocker,’ says Gina Tonic, senior editor and podcast host at Polyester Zine. ‘The worst thing I’ve seen is SkinnyTok and eating-disorder Twitter accounts making their way into “normal” algorithms – being seen by many who didn’t know they existed prior to that.’ Though TikTok has banned the #SkinnyTok hashtag, the community is still active and growing on the app. ‘You hope younger generations will be more socially aware but it’s not necessarily the case; they make the same mistakes we do, and that’s hard to watch.’ Tonic notes the responsibility to police this content ultimately lies with social-media platforms, who seem to ‘prioritise engagement over wellbeing and social justice’.
She says an early sign of the pendulum swing back to diet culture was ‘creators who centred their brand on self-love or body positivity or fat liberation shifting to be around weight loss’. Many TikTok users who have undergone transformations opened up about their use of GLP-1s, which have been hailed as miracle drugs while giving rise to ethical concerns. Part of a cultural shift to the pursuit of thinness at all costs, these admissions seem even more jarring to those who remember a time when showcasing diverse bodies on the internet was celebrated.
‘In the 2010s, we had a mainstream wave of body positivity,’ says Light. In an interview with BeautyMatter, beauty-industry critic Jessica DeFino said that, during this time, ‘anti-diet culture limited what beauty standards the media could promote without facing public backlash’. But even if the movement was more about optics than genuine progress, with celebrities cashing in on wokeness for clout, Light claims this was preferable to the situation we find ourselves in. ‘A lot of it wasn’t perfect, of course, but it cracked open the conversation, gave marginalised bodies visibility and challenged narrow beauty standards.’
And though it can seem like progress has been permanently reversed, Tonic believes sometimes things have to get worse before they get better: ‘Fat liberation, a lot like feminism, has come in waves of popularity, and the tide seems to be out at the minute. I do think it’ll come back full-force soon.’ In the meantime, it’s important to practise awareness, and to consider safeguarding measures. In a recent study, almost one in five UK women screened positive for a possible eating disorder.
The most effective way to break yourself out of negative thinking patterns? Addressing that pesky phone addiction. ‘Any sort of intervention to try to limit your exposure should help improve your appearance-satisfaction and wellbeing’, Keeler advises. Tonic agrees, but also advocates engaging with online content that makes you feel good. ‘I think making an active commitment to following and engaging with accounts that are body positive and seek to decentre and oppose these conversations will help so much,’ she says. ‘Curate a feed and algorithm that feeds you the right things. Negative things online are unavoidable at this point, but pointedly engaging with content that counteracts it will do wonders.’
Light, similarly, has found hope by building a positive online community. ‘The messages I get from people who’ve started to eat more freely, wear the clothes they love, stop punishing themselves… all of it reminds me that change is happening, even if it’s gradual and it’s not trending,’ she says. ‘I think a great question to ask yourself is, “Who benefits from me believing I need to be smaller?” The answer is never you. It’s the multi-billion-dollar diet industry. Knowing that I’m fine exactly as I am and that I don’t need to be smaller is an act of rebellion. Real joy and confidence come from opting out.’
If you’re worried about disordered eating or concerned about someone else, there are resources that can help: https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/ https://www.nhs.uk/mental-health/advice-for-life-situations-and-events/how-to-help-someone-with-eating-disorder/
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