Ozempic shots, protein supplements supplements and skin-tight-low-rise jeans — oh my. It seems 2000s trends are making a comeback, diet culture included. The early 2000s were saturated with fad diets and restrictive eating practices, made viral by big brands that framed them not just as beauty standards, but as markers of moral worth.

In the 2020s, we are seeing these same habits being aesthetically repackaged to resemble self-care. “Pilates princesses” and “that girls” have flooded social media platforms in droves, promoting an over-exercised and underfed lifestyle. These 2000s habits may have changed names, but not foundations.

Body image and the consistent objectification of women’s bodies are deeply rooted in racism and sexism.

In the U.S., the feminine beauty ideal has historically been defined by Eurocentric characteristics, such as pale skin, long straight hair and thin figures. This standard inherently excludes Black women and other minorities with physical characteristics such as melanated skin, textured hair and curvaceous bodies.

These standards continue to oppress and are perpetuated through social media algorithms.

According to objectification theory, girls are taught to view themselves from an external perspective. This leads to constant body monitoring, which often results in shame, insecurities, anxiety, disordered eating and depression.

Through this lens, a woman’s experience of her body is dictated by constant self-evaluation and comparison to others. Consequently, women come to believe that they can — and should — change their appearance in order to attain this ideal, which is often defined by being “sexy” in ways that cater to the male gaze, like being thin.

We are seeing a cultural shift toward a more conservative mindset. Thinness is also being aligned with morality and health — skinny is best. This is the mindset that started the 2000s diet culture.

In Glamour magazine, writer Michelle Konstantinovsky recalls that skinniness wasn’t just the standard of beauty but also a physical manifestation of discipline, dedication and effort. Women were told that weight was somehow correlated with “morality and value.”

And what are women expected to do? They are expected to follow fashion trends that often, if not always, require thinness to participate.

It is demanded of women to have a lean abdomen that never protrudes, while wearing low-rise jeans.

As access to media expanded, so did the influence of these ideas. In the 2000s, the media reinforced the idea that skinny bodies were happier and that bodies above a size zero were miserable and lonely.

Nowadays, the rise of photo-editing apps exacerbates this issue and creates another set of unattainable ideals. Thanks to airbrushing and body-editing, “Instagram-perfect” size quadruple zero, digitally-edited bodies surround us.

As for dieting, what was once coffee, cigarettes and low-carb got rebranded into matcha, protein and GLP-1s. Low-carb diets are gaining significant popularity in the U.S. as a response to rising concerns about weight and metabolic disorders.

GLP-1s, initially a drug to help treat Type 2 diabetes, became a get-skinny-quick aid that propelled the medication far beyond its original intent. The obsession with protein stems from the perception that more protein equals better health — if only it were that simple.

All of these trends and changes suggest that women should alter their shape or size because the media has deemed a certain look “trendy.” It only reinforces the narrative that to be accepted and worthy girls must be thin. It’s damaging and unrealistic.

But, you can make changes to stop the push of these systemic toxic beauty and body standards. Unfollow celebrities or influencers pushing toxic beauty and body standards. Call out dangerous rhetoric and media.

Celebrate your body for what it can do for you, not just what it looks like.

Michaiah Stephens is a 22-year-old English major from Durham, N.C.