For a decade, curvier bodies reigned, but the pendulum has swung. Thin is back — not just as a trend, but as a cultural reset. Rebranded as “wellness,” it mirrors past obsessions with heroin chic, reflecting deeper shifts in power and control. The speed of this shift demands scrutiny.

Trigger Warning: This article discusses topics related to eating disorders and references substances. Reader discretion is advised.

For the past decade, curvier bodies ruled pop culture. The Brazilian Butt Lift (BBL) became the defining cosmetic procedure of the 2010s, while fitness influencers pushed “gains” as the ultimate goal. But now, almost overnight, the pendulum has swung back. Thin is in again — and not in a casual, cyclical way, but in a way that feels eerily familiar.

We’ve seen this before. The 1990s and early 2000s glorified heroin chic — characterised by pale skin, dark circles underneath eyes, and emaciated features — thinspiration, and dangerously restrictive dieting. Today, those same ideals are repackaged under the guise of “wellness,” “glucose management,” and “long and lean” fitness trends — think Pilates. The message remains unchanged: desirability, status, and success belong to the very, very thin.

This resurgence of ultra-thinness isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s deeply tied to economic instability, cultural conservatism, and the commodification of body positivity. And while history tells us that body trends are cyclical, the rapidity of this shift — and the forces behind it — demand a closer look.

The history of body politics in Nigeria

While global beauty trends oscillate between curvy and thin, Nigeria’s relationship with body ideals has its own complex history, shaped by tradition, colonialism, and modern globalisation. .

Traditional Nigerian beauty standards: A celebration of fullness

Historically, many Nigerian cultures prized fuller-figured women, associating body fat with fertility, prosperity, and social status. Among the Yoruba, Igbo, and my ethnic group, the Ijaw, to mention a few, a robust physique was seen as a reflection of health and wealth, with traditional art, folklore, and customs celebrating larger bodies. Certain groups, including the Efik, Ibibios and Kalabaris even had pre-marriage “fattening rooms,” where brides were fed rich diets to prepare them for marriage, reinforcing the link between body size and social standing.

Colonial influence: The imposition of Western  thinness

The arrival of European colonialism introduced new ideals. British rule brought Western education and media, which valorised slender body types as the pinnacle of beauty. Advertisements, magazines, and missionary teachings subtly (and sometimes overtly) framed Indigenous beauty standards as outdated or excessive. This period planted the seeds of a beauty dichotomy — where traditional Nigerian preferences for fuller bodies clashed with emerging Western ideals of thinness.

Post-independence and the globalisation of beauty

After Nigeria’s independence in 1960, urbanisation and technological advances intensified exposure to Western media. The rise of Nollywood and Nigerian advertising reinforced slimmer body types, particularly in cities, where beauty pageants and fashion industries mirrored global trends. However, rural areas and older generations held onto traditional ideals, creating a cultural divide between local and Westernised perceptions of beauty.

Modern pressures: Social media and cosmetic surgery

Today, globalisation and social media have further reshaped Nigerian beauty standards:

Western Beauty Domination: The prevalence of Instagram, TikTok, and Western fashion brands has amplified thinner body ideals.

The Cosmetic Surgery Boom: While BBLs were a status symbol in the 2010s, a growing number of Nigerian women are now opting for procedures that sculpt a more slender physique.

Body Positivity vs. Fatphobia: The global body positivity movement has influenced Nigeria, but it coexists with pervasive fat-shaming, particularly in digital spaces.

While these shifts reflect the country’s evolving beauty landscape, they also underscore a deeper global issue: the way women’s bodies remain subject to trends, external validation, and shifting power dynamics.

The four horsemen of the skinny apocalypse

So, what’s driving the resurgence of thinness? Here are my Four Horsemen of the Skinny Apocalypse — the cultural forces pushing the pendulum back:

The death of BBL culture

Perhaps the clearest sign that curvy bodies were “out” was when the very women who made them famous — the Kardashians — suddenly sported smaller physiques. This pivot away from their once-signature look sent a clear message: exaggerated hourglass figures were no longer the gold standard. 

This shift was reinforced by other high-profile figures who once embraced curvier bodies but are now noticeably slimmer, subtly dictating a new beauty standard. Alongside this, an increasing number of women are opting for surgical reversals, removing their BBLs as the “thick” aesthetic loses its grip. This rapid reversal underscores a troubling reality: women’s bodies are treated like fashion trends, constantly subject to cultural whims.

Ozempic and the medicalisation of thinness

The latest weight loss revolution isn’t rooted in traditional dieting but in pharmaceuticals. Medications such as Ozempic and Mounjaro, initially developed to manage diabetes, or supplements like Morosil have surged in popularity for their rapid weight loss effects. Celebrities including Oprah Winfrey, Stephen Fry, Kelly Clarkson, Elon Musk and others have all confessed to their use of weight-loss drugs. Social media platforms like TikTok, Twitter (X), and Instagram are inundated with transformation posts, portraying thinness as an instantly attainable ideal. 

While achieving a healthy weight has undeniable benefits, the cultural fervour surrounding these drugs highlights a deeper societal fixation: the compulsion to swiftly modify one’s body to align with prevailing beauty standards, often without fully considering potential risks.

Y2K fashion and heroin chic 2.0

With the return of ultra-low-rise jeans, micro-mini skirts, and exposed hip bones, the darker side of Y2K aesthetics has resurfaced. Runway models are once again embodying a waif-like look, reminiscent of the early 2000s “heroin chic” era. 

At the forefront of this resurgence is the “Bella Hadid aesthetic,” with the supermodel’s ultra-thin frame becoming an aspirational ideal across social media, particularly on TikTok. This revival isn’t just about nostalgia; it marks a reintroduction of beauty standards rooted in extreme thinness and unattainable body goals — fueling concerns about the cyclical nature of body image trends.

The resurgence of eating disorder communities and thinspo

Social media has long played a role in shaping beauty ideals, but its influence on body image has taken a more insidious turn. What was once openly labelled as “thinspiration”, lending to the rise of pro-anorexia (“pro-ana“) communities online has now been repackaged under seemingly wellness-focused terms like “discipline,” “clean eating,” and “biohacking,” making extreme weight loss appear aspirational rather than alarming. Even AI chatbots are hosting Pro-Anorexia chatbots that encourage young people to engage in disordered eating.

Meanwhile, viral trends such as the “chubby filter” — which artificially enlarges users’ faces — reinforce fatphobic narratives by implying that thinness is the only acceptable standard of beauty. These platforms create a relentless feedback loop, idealizing and continuously reinforcing unattainable body goals under the guise of self-improvement.

The politics of thinness: Why now?

Whenever beauty standards shift dramatically, it’s worth asking: why now? Historically, ultra-thin ideals often re-emerge during economic downturns. Financial instability can lead to cultural conservatism, reinforcing restrictive beauty norms. For instance, the 1990s saw a muted aesthetic, partly due to the economic challenges of that era. 

Moreover, the recent resurgence of ultra-thin models on runways suggests a retreat from body diversity. This shift coincides with the rise of weight-loss drugs like Ozempic, indicating a possible correlation between economic factors and beauty standards. 

Additionally, the fashion industry has seen a decline in size inclusivity, with recent reports highlighting a significant drop in the representation of mid and plus-size models across major fashion weeks.

These trends underscore the complex interplay between economic forces and societal perceptions of desirability, suggesting that thinness is often associated with control and power, especially during times of financial uncertainty. A report by the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health revealed that body dissatisfaction and appearance-based discrimination cost the U.S. economy billions annually, underscoring the profound impact of societal beauty ideals on economic productivity.

Where do we go from here?

This shift raises urgent questions. What happens to diversity and inclusion in fashion? Will body positivity survive, or will it be reduced to a relic of the 2010s? And most importantly: how do we stop treating women’s bodies like disposable trends?

Because at the heart of it, that’s the real issue. Bodies should not be trends. And yet, they are shaped, shrunk, and expanded at the whims of culture, media, and capital. While some argue that this shift is about “health,” history tells us otherwise. The pursuit of thinness has rarely been about wellness — it has always been about power.

And that is the scariest part of all.