The supermodel era of the 1990s further cemented the “ideal” body type – tall, lean, and angular — and especially after the “heroic chic” episode, thinness became almost a compulsion.
The Y2K fashion (cropped shirt and low-rise jeans) required a flat stomach with an exposed midriff. The Kardashian era gave rise to a particular type of curviness – a sculpted waist with exaggerated hips was something people chased with desperation, and just when all of it became too exhausting, the Ozempic era knocked on our doors – promising rapid, effortless thinness and resetting the beauty narratives once again.
Impact on culture
As someone who writes about fashion, I’ve noticed that trends rarely stay on the runway – they slip quietly into how we see ourselves. It’s not just the glossy editorials, but it seeps into our mental health, shaping social and cultural perceptions. The industry’s narrow lens became painfully clear when Barbara Palvin was labelled ‘plus size’ in 2019, a moment that went viral not because she was actually plus-sized, but because it exposed how distorted the standards had become.
A recent Vogue Business Spring/Summer 2026 Size Inclusivity Report shows that runway diversity has barely shifted. Of 9,038 looks across 198 shows in major fashion capitals, only 0.9% featured plus-size models (US size 14+) and 2% were mid-size (US size 4-12) – leaving about 97.1% straight size (US size 0-4). London Fashion Week was the most size-inclusive, with 9% representation of mid and sizes. When brands favour one kind of size, the choice leads to an unspoken message: this is beautiful, this is desirable.
Social media consumption becomes a catalyst for comparison, turning bodies into content and benchmarks. And often, without realising it, we measure ourselves against images that filters, edits, angles, and skills have perfected. Studies published in the National Library of Medicine show that the more time people spend engaging with social media, the more likely they are to experience body dissatisfaction, lowered self esteem, and growing anxiety about their appearances. Over time, this quiet erosion of self-images can lead to more serious struggles like body dysmorphia, disordered eating and a lingering sense of never measuring up.
A moment of rethinking
Despite years of conversation around diversity, the industry remains inconsistent. Inclusivity exists but only in fragments, and the real test is in sustaining diversity, not because it’s fashionable or woke, but because it’s the norm. Expanding the narrative around body image doesn’t compromise artistry. Designing for all body types helps ideate better innovations, releases pressure from models and casting directors, increases the representation of diverse consumer segments, and allows runways to gain more dimensions. When campaigns reflect a real audience, they resonate authentically, emotionally, and commercially.
Change won’t happen overnight, as with most shifts in fashion, consistency will determine its impact. If the future maintains or exceeds these numbers, size inclusivity will move from mere experiment to expectation.
