As a Gen Xer who lived through the “heroin chic” years, when skeletal models were celebrated for jutting bones and sallow skin, the recent popularity of the #Y2KSkinny trend fills me with dread.

This return of size 00 bodies is fuelled by the fashion industry, looksmaxxing and SkinnyTok influencers who promote thinness as wellness. But increasingly, the biggest driver is a drug class: GLP-1s.

A-list celebrities are now openly using drugs like Ozempic for weight loss instead of the medical conditions they were designed for, and that visibility has trickled down. Young women are experimenting with GLP-1s to lose a few pounds, sometimes with disastrous health effects, while telehealth companies provide frictionless access to these medications. The brand names — Ozempic, Mounjaro, Wegovy — have become part of our everyday vocabulary.

At the same time, there’s an insatiable appetite for stories about influencers with “Ozempic Face” or ghastly thin bodies. People using these medications are sometimes “Ozempic shamed” for relying on medications instead of diet and exercise, even as GLP-1s are also charged with contributing to fatphobia.

In this fraught environment, disclosing GLP-1 use to a date or romantic partner can be difficult. When we’ve been socialized to feel ashamed about having a body that........

© The Conversation