What happens when your body becomes “outdated” before your talent does?
Published: January 2026
I was catching up with a friend I first met at a fashion show, and we talked about the fashion industry and how quickly it moves, shifts, and forgets.
She told me that modelling isn’t something she’s actively pursuing anymore. She’s in a phase of wanting to explore what’s out there, especially after struggling this year to book the very same shows she had booked last year, simply for being considered too short.
The modelling industry is fickle. Beauty standards change every couple of months, and the brutal reality is that models can lose work overnight when what once made them unique no longer aligns with what’s “in.” Talent doesn’t disappear, but demand does.
Body Positivity as a Trend.
Body positivity didn’t suddenly appear on Instagram. It dates back to the 1960s with the Fat Acceptance Movement, also known as fat pride or fat liberation, advocating for fair treatment and basic dignity for fat people.
But in the 2010s, the movement resurfaced with unprecedented force. Public disapproval of the lack of representation on runways, in stores, and in advertising became so loud that even multimillion-dollar corporations could no longer ignore it. After decades of glorifying extreme thinness—heroin chic and 90s Kate Moss—women had enough.
Being dangerously thin is not sustainable. It never was. So a shift was inevitable.
When Morality Fails, Money Will Always Talk.
Like many harmful societal norms, change didn’t come from a sudden moral awakening. It came from financial pressure. Society didn’t suddenly become “better,” harmful beauty standards simply stopped being profitable.
Nowhere was this more visible than in the Victoria’s Secret runway shows of the 2010s. They were wildly popular among young girls—me included. They were our Super Bowl.
But after years of success and iconic performances, the brand began to crumble. It failed to adapt meaningfully to changing expectations around representation, and sales started to drop. Between 2016 and 2018 alone, Victoria’s Secret lost nearly 10% of its U.S. market share. Add internal controversies, allegations, and finally COVID-19, and the brand was forced to step back, reassess, and ultimately rebrand.
When women’s bodies are treated as economic assets, they become commodities that can be bought, sold, and repackaged to serve whatever agenda is most lucrative. And once a certain body type is no longer easily marketable, it’s discarded. Meanwhile, the industry moves on to the next trendy appeal.
Do We Even Want Diversity?
Fashion is retreating from diversity, especially body diversity. And, contrary to popular belief, brands aren’t the only ones to blame. A significant part of the responsibility lies with consumers.
The Victoria’s Secret case proves this. When consumers demanded change, the brand was forced to respond. But once it did, backlash followed. People claimed they liked Victoria’s Secret for its fantasy, exclusivity, and unattainable image. After all, the models are called Angels. Unachievable standards are part of the product being sold.
It’s the same logic that leads stores to call their employees “stylists” instead of “sales associates.” Language, imagery, and illusion matter.
So the question remains: do we actually want diversity?
The Rebranding of Body Positivity.
Some call 2024 “the year body positivity died.” Instead of advocating for self-love, brands shifted toward “wellness,” the socially acceptable way to reintroduce rigid expectations under the guise of self-care.
Now, two years later, we’re seeing the full effect. The re-glamorization of heroin chic is undeniable. Ozempic has become the new cheat code for thinness, used by young women who were never unhealthy to begin with. Every day, we watch celebrities shrink at alarming rates, and yet meaningful conversations about the dangers of extreme weight loss are shut down under the excuse of “we can’t comment on bodies.”
This is 2026’s version of body positivity: looking the other way.
Moving Forward.
Unfortunately, women’s bodies are expected to expand and contract every five years, depending on what the industry decides is “normal.” Trends change. Expectations reset. The cycle continues. But it is our responsibility as individuals to resist it, to question it, and to refuse to internalize it.
On a positive note, if we’re currently in a skinny era, then history tells us something else too:
Soon enough, things will start to taste better than how skinny feels (hi Kate Moss).
RELATED:
National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance (NAAFA)