Editor’s Note: This article discusses eating disorders and weight-loss drugs. If you are struggling, please reach out to the free National Eating Disorder helpline at 1-866-662-1235.
This Thanksgiving break, at the top of my to-do list was attending opening night of “Wicked: For Good.” As a longtime fan of the show, I was eager to see the second installment of a meaningful, fanastical story displayed on the big screen. Since its film debut, “Wicked” has become more than a musical — it’s a cultural phenomenon, with cast interviews and movie clips turned into memes and reaction images. You can’t peruse social media without running into “Wicked” content, but it goes deeper than memes. There’s been a rising concern regarding the noticeable weight loss of the film’s two principal actresses, Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Fans have dubbed the “Wicked” set “the wizard of Ozempic,” speculating the newly popular weight-loss drug as the root of the issue. Intense weight loss isn’t exclusive to the “Wicked” cast, though – the “Ozempic war” has permeated Hollywood in the past year, and it’s an issue with startling implications.
Before delving into the heart of the issue, let’s review a brief, recent timeline of body image in Hollywood. In the early 2000s, skinny was the standard. Midsized women were bashed for being “fat,” despite having perfectly healthy bodies. The 2010s introduced the body positivity movement, which, although imperfect, was the most progress we’ve made as a society to accepting the fact that it’s unrealistic to expect everyone to look a certain way. In the 2020s, the body positivity movement overshot and we’ve regressed back to fatphobia, “skinnytok” and romanticizing the 2000s “heroin chic.” Eating disorder rates have skyrocketed from 3.5% to 22% of the global population between 2000 and 2023.
With the introduction of weight-loss drugs like Ozempic, the standard is back to thinness in a way never seen before: the ideal isn’t just skinny, it’s skeletal. Rather than attempting to reach a healthy body weight, the Ozempic era appears to be more of a competition to who can get the closest to emaciation. The “2000s skinny” body was difficult to attain, but it was possible through exercise and dieting. Although it entailed eating disorders to some extent, that body type was reflective of the way that a certain set of people looked naturally. Conversely, the Ozempic body isn’t just unattainable – it’s unhealthy. Starvation, drugs and chronic illness are the only avenues to obtain such dramatic weight loss. It seems like everyone in Hollywood is taking Ozempic, including celebrities who made their careers off representing plus-sized people. This isn’t to say that people should be stuck looking a certain way simply because of public perception. It’s simply to emphasize that the Ozempic standard is affecting everyone, from those previously confident in their bodies to those who want to lose as little as ten pounds.
My issue with “Wicked” isn’t that its stars look a certain way. Aside from the leads’ startling weight loss, there’s been widespread concern from fans regarding the production company’s handling of the situation. The costuming of the film deliberately calls attention to Ariana Grande’s visible collarbones and sternum, adorning them with gems.
“The second those shoulder gems made an appearance, that confirmed the glamorization of malnourishment,” one fan posted on TikTok. Peoples’ bodies shouldn’t be hidden because they look a certain way, but costuming that literally bedazzles traits of emaciation to draw attention to them is irresponsible. It’s a subtle jab at viewers, implying that a visible collarbone is something to be celebrated rather than concerned over.
Making matters worse is the fact that “Wicked” is a franchise marketed towards impressionable young children, mainly girls. Young children don’t remember the damaging impacts of early 2000s and 2010s eating disorder culture, and they’re unaware that the bodies they see onscreen are both abnormal and unhealthy. Growing up in a culture that presents emaciated celebrities as inspirational idols will only increase the prominence of eating disorders and skew younger generations’ perspectives of what is and is not healthy.
To make things clear, I am not speculating on the decisions, mental health or physical health of anyone in particular, nor am I encouraging readers to do so. By mentioning Ozempic, I merely intend to emphasize the context in which the “Wicked” situation exists, as it magnifies these issues. I’ve looked up to both Grande and Erivo for years, and I don’t have the right to make assumptions about their personal lives. However, when you’re in the public eye, especially in a film marketed towards children, you have a responsibility to prevent the glamorization of unhealthy body standards.
In an age of Ozempic and emaciation, it’s crucial to remember that the current body standard should in no way, shape or form be normalized. Being conscious of this fact, we have a responsibility to look out for the younger members of our families and communities. Check up on and offer help to anyone who may need it. Most importantly, keep in mind that your body is the least interesting thing about you.