Latest news with #LivSchmidt
Hindustan Times
a day ago
- Health
- Hindustan Times
#SkinnyTok banned: A look a viral weight loss hacks on TikTok and why you should avoid them
Scrolling through social media quite often lands users on videos featuring people gushing about their weight loss journeys. This has become a highly popular trend, and people look forward to trying out these hacks to shed some extra kilos. However, these trends more often than not pose health risks. TikTok has banned #SkinnyTok According to USA Today, TikTok recently put a ban on the hashtag #SkinnyTok after multiple warnings and public outrage regarding the trend promotion of highly dangerous body standards and extreme weight loss. This hasn't happened for the first time. In September last year, Liv Schmidt got banned after building her platform around weight loss and thinness. From #SkinnyTok to extreme diet challenges, social media platforms, such as TikTok, are filled with millions of videos centered around health and wellness. Viewed by a large number of users, these videos boast about how people can shed weight in less amount of time. What remains concerning is that such trends fail to have any scientific backing and often can end up posing serious health risks to individuals. Also read: Influencer Erika Cramer's Instagram account suspended due to shocking reason: 'I've been accused...' Popular weight loss hacks on TikTok Ozempic medication Although a diabetes medication, Ozempic is misused by individuals and promoted as a fast weight-loss solution. But experts suggest that it can ultimately lead to serious side effects, such as nausea, pancreatitis, and thyroid tumors, according to digital magazine Coffee and lemonade Having a mix of coffee and lemon juice can help in suppressing appetite, according to some social media influencers. However, they fail to inform their fans that it can ultimately lead to dehydration and even stomach ulcers in some cases. Rice water detox Another popular health trend advises consuming rice water as a metabolism booster. This is being promoted without any scientific evidence supporting the claim. Extreme fasting Fasting for longer periods can result in muscle loss and deficiency of nutrients in the body, according to experts. FAQs: 1. Does Ozempic help in weight loss? According to the Cleveland Clinic, taking Ozempic or similar medications makes more GLP-1 in the body, which decreases appetite and makes people feel fuller. 2. What is #SkinnyTok? This was a popular hashtag on TikTok, which promoted content which advises people on how to be skinnier. 3. What's the best method for weight loss? There are several authentic ways advised by experts to lose weight, with sustainable lifestyle changes being a key focus.
USA Today
4 days ago
- Health
- USA Today
TikTok has banned #SkinnyTok, but will it make a difference?
TikTok has banned the hashtag #SkinnyTok after public outrage and warnings that it was promoting unrealistic body standards, eating disorders and extreme weight loss. It's not the first time content like this has been blocked by the platform. In September, influencer Liv Schmidt, who built her platform on the outward pursuit of thinness, growing a following of 670,000, was banned. 'Basic fit because the accessory is being blonde & skinny,' she captioned one outfit video on Instagram, where she now has over 320,000 followers. 'Please don't ask me how I'm so skinny if you're not ready for the answers,' she wrote over another. #SkinnyTok's content is eerily similar to the thinspo – or, inspiration on how to be skinnier – that dominated social media platforms like Tumblr in the 2010s. Though Tumblr, Instagram and Pinterest banned #thinspo in 2012, it didn't stop these communities from populating the sites. Even with the ban of #SkinnyTok, removing harmful content may be an uphill battle. Content creators like Schmidt have paved the way for the 'skinny influencer,' and mental health experts have cautioned that this represents a larger shift in how Americans are discussing thinness. 'We're almost seeing a return to the outward profession of the desire to be skinny, whereas for a while it's been, 'I want to be healthier, I want to engage in wellness,'' said University of Vermont associate professor Lizzy Pope, whose research focuses on how diet culture appears in popular culture and on social media. 'What I'm seeing is a return of that language being accepted.' The era of #SkinnyTok, Liv Schmit and 'gym bros' TikTok banned Schmidt's account for violating the site's community guidelines, according to the Wall Street Journal. A TikTok spokesperson did not respond to USA TODAY's request for comment on specifics, but some of Schmidt's videos appeared to violate the site's disordered eating and body image guidelines, which prohibit content that "promotes potentially harmful weight management." However, other communities on TikTok also promote unrealistic body standards, but do so under the guise of wellness. Some 'gym bros' are sharing similar content, amassing followers by sharing their tough-to-achieve physiques and gym journeys. A simple TikTok search of 'trust the bulk' will lead users to thousands of transformation videos, with many detailing how they toned their bodies through binge/purge cycles and excessive exercise. When regular gym goers don't see these same results, body dysmorphia and disordered eating practices can worsen, according to therapist and certified eating disorder specialist Sarah Davis. Experts say this is contributing to a culture of orthorexia, a lesser-known eating disorder characterized by an obsession with clean, healthy eating. More: Are 'gym bros' cultivating a culture of orthorexia? The rise in 'skinny' content can influence disordered eating in young people Sneakily named hashtags and covert 'what I eat in a day" videos that often portray unhealthy caloric intake also allow users to evade TikTok's new #SkinnyTok ban and restrictions around posting harmful weight-related content. Factors like social media and isolation have contributed to a large increase in youth eating disorders since the pandemic. The most widely viewed food, nutrition and weight content on TikTok are videos that perpetuate toxic diet culture among teens and young adults, according to a 2022 University of Vermont study that analyzed the top 100 videos from popular nutrition, food and weight-related hashtags. Lizzy Pope, one of the study's coauthors, said representation of diet culture and weight loss was framed as a part of being healthy or being fit in most of the videos they analyzed. If they did the study again in 2025, she suspects they would find 'a lot more of this very blatant, 'I'm doing this to be skinny' content.' In general, the best way to minimize eating disorder-related content is not to interact with it in the first place, since commenting or liking videos makes similar content more likely to appear in one's algorithm. Pope said working on the ability to reject content is an important aspect of making sure toxic diet culture doesn't permeate one's mental health, and recommended seeking professional support through therapists and dietitians if unhealthy thoughts persist. Contributing: Rachel Hale
Atlantic
21-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Atlantic
When SkinnyTok Came for Me
The bride had to do just one last thing before she walked down the aisle. 'I currently am in the bathroom in my wedding dress I asked everyone for just a few mins alone so that I could message you this.' Was she writing to an estranged friend? An old lover—the one that got away? At the beginning of her 'journey,' the bride weighed 134 pounds. 'My goal was to just lose 5lbs,' she wrote, but she had somehow dropped down to 110. 'I'm crying writing this because I have never felt so healthy and confident. THANK YOU!!!' The message was accompanied by two photos—a before and an after. The first shows a thin woman who looks to be a size 2 or 4. In the second, the woman's bones are visible beneath her skin, and her leggings sag. She owed all of this to Liv Schmidt, a 23-year-old influencer known for her harsh, no-bullshit approach to staying thin. 'You feel like a best friend and sister to me,' the bride wrote to Schmidt, who shared the message on Instagram. Schmidt is the queen of SkinnyTok—a corner of the internet where thin, mostly white women try to make America skinny again. Her 'what I eat in a day to stay skinny' videos thrust her into virality about a year ago. There she is with her mint tea—which she always drinks before eating anything, to check if she's really hungry or just bored—or a mile-high ice-cream sundae that she'll take three bites of before tossing. She's very clear: She stays skinny by not eating much. Many find this refreshingly honest. Others think she's promoting eating disorders. Influencers have condemned her; magazines have published scathing critiques. Last month, Meta removed her ability to sell subscriptions ($20 a month for access to private content and a group chat called the 'Skinni Société') on Instagram, and this month, TikTok banned the SkinnyTok hashtag worldwide, saying it was 'linked to unhealthy weight loss content.' And in response, the right has championed Schmidt. She has been canceled, and she may be more powerful than ever. I didn't mean to join the legions of young women on SkinnyTok. It happened fast. I liked an Instagram reel about an 'Easy High Protein, Low Calorie Breakfast.' What I got next, I didn't ask for. Within hours, my Instagram 'explore' page was flooded with videos of conventionally pretty, thin women preaching one message: Stop eating. Phrases such as 'You're not a dog, don't treat yourself with food' and the Kate Moss classic, 'Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels,' began to flood my feed—and my subconscious. At lunch with a friend one Saturday, I didn't finish my salad. 'Do you know Liv Schmidt?' I asked. 'The three-bite rule? Of course I do. She's kind of a genius.' I realized I wasn't down this rabbit hole alone. Conor Friedersdorf: The many ripple effects of the weight-loss industry 'I know the advice I'm getting from these women is not healthy,' another friend said, but 'everything I want is on the other side of being skinny, and these women are going to help me get there.' 'I like SkinnyTok. It helps me to not eat 'the extra thing' I don't need. Don't like it? Don't follow it.' 'It's internalized misogynistic brainwash!' 'I love that skinny bitch.' Where had Schmidt come from, and what had happened to the 'body positivity' movement that had been so loudly touted through the past decade? You can form a community around anything online. When I was a kid in the 2000s, teenage girls with eating disorders were gathering on 'thinspiration' websites, where they could exchange tips. Tabloids sold copies off body shaming—one day Britney Spears was too fat; the next, Lindsay Lohan was too skinny—and my friends and I were going around with 100-calorie Chips Ahoy! packs in our lunchboxes. By the time I was a teenager, the body-positivity movement had arrived, promising to change the culture. Plus-size models started appearing in ad campaigns. The problem wasn't women's bodies, activists argued, but women feeling bad about their bodies. Yet when people tried to force society to embrace new body norms, society lashed out, bringing to the surface a lot of underlying hatred. 'Body positivity didn't resonate with a lot of people, because it felt like lying,' Maalvika Bhat, a 25-year-old TikTok influencer who is getting a doctorate in computer science and communication at Northwestern University, told me. Many felt that the movement was in denial about both the practical health risks of being overweight and America's willingness to put its engrained fat phobia aside. Ozempic has accelerated that backlash against body positivity. Many of the plus-size leaders of the body-positivity movement shut up and shrunk down. Their followers noticed that they were using a weight-loss drug. Apparently you didn't have to love yourself as you were—and you didn't have to suffer to change, either. You just had to have a prescription and enough money to pay for it. But what about those pesky last 10 pounds, the difference between being a size 6 and a size 2? Although some healthy-weight women with no medical reason to take GLP-1 drugs have nonetheless found work-arounds to get their hands on the medication, most aren't going to those lengths. How would they keep up now that skinny was back? For some, the answer was SkinnyTok. You don't need a prescription to be ultrathin. You just need a bad relationship with food, fueled by a skinny stranger yelling mean-girl mantras at you. In the end, the body-positivity movement's lasting effect may have been to prove the validity of the very message it was trying to combat—that thinner people are treated better. At least, many women feel, SkinnyTok is telling them the truth. As one SkinnyTok influencer put it, 'Don't sugarcoat that or you'll eat that too.' I started listening more closely to the SkinnyTok videos. They weren't just about self-deprivation. They were about being classy. They were about being a lady—the right kind of woman, one that men drool over. They were, most importantly, about being small. In one of Schmidt's videos, she's approached by a man in a black car during a photo shoot. The caption reads: 'This is the treatment Skinni gets you. Was just taking pics … Then a Rolls-Royce rolled up begging for my number like I'm on the menu mid photo. He saw clavicle he swerved. He saw cheekbones lost composure.' From the July 2025 Issue: Inside the exclusive, obsessive, surprisingly litigious world of luxury fitness SkinnyTok influencers basically never talk in their videos about politics. They aren't preaching about Donald Trump—let alone about issues such as abortion or immigration. And yet everything they talk about—the emphasis on girls and how girls need to behave and how small they need to be—is, of course, political. A few days after my Instagram feed surrendered to the SkinnyTok takeover, the tradwife content began to sneak in. Beautiful women baking bread in linen dresses spoke to me about embracing my divine femininity. I should consider 'softer living' and 'embracing my natural role.' All of a sudden, I wondered whether I, a single woman in her late 20s living in Manhattan, should trade it all in to become a mother of 10 on a farm in Montana. Watch a few more of these videos, and soon you'll be directed to the anti-vax moms, or the Turning Point USA sweetheart Alex Clark's wellness podcast, Cultural Apothecary, or the full-on conspiratorial alt-right universe. This is just how the internet works. Eviane Leidig, the author of The Women of the Far Right: Social Media Influencers and Online Radicalization, sees a connection between SkinnyTok and tradwives in their 'very strong visual representation of femininity.' Whether they mean to be or not, they have become part of the same pipeline. Algorithms grab your attention with lighter, relatable content while exposing you to more extremist viewpoints. The alt-right, she said, is great at making aspirational and seemingly apolitical content that viewers relate to. 'This is a deliberate strategy that the conservative space has been employing over the last several years to capitalize on cultural issues as a gateway to radicalize audiences into more extreme viewpoints.' Two months ago, Evie Magazine, a right-wing publication that promotes traditional femininity, ran a profile of Schmidt: 'Banned for Being Honest? Meet Liv Schmidt, the Girl Who Made 'Skinny' Go Viral.' The magazine had one of the biggest tradwife influencers, Hannah Neeleman of Ballerina Farm, on its cover back in November. The article about Schmidt focused on her being canceled and banned on a number of platforms for promoting thinness. 'I don't owe the internet a version of me that's palatable,' Schmidt told the magazine. 'If a girl bigger than me posted what I eat in a day, no one would care. But when I do, it becomes controversial. Why? Because I'm blonde, thin, young, and unapologetic.' Last year, Evie profiled Amanda Dobler, another SkinnyTok figurehead, whom it described as 'TikTok's skinny queen'—'both brutally honest and surprisingly sweet.' The more the left has attacked Schmidt, the more the right has celebrated her. Bhat, who describes herself as progressive, said, 'I think the left is deeply, deeply exclusive.' On the right, 'you're allowed to make dozens of mistakes and not be shunned. They say, 'If the left doesn't welcome you, we will.' And they always do.' You can't deduce a political manifesto from someone's Instagram followers, but it seems worth noting that Schmidt follows conservative figureheads including RFK Jr., Candace Owens, and Brett Cooper. When she posted about losing the paid-subscription feature on her Instagram, through which she had been making nearly $130,000 a month, according to AirMail, she tagged Joe Rogan. 'She's clearly trying to get her foot in the door with the alternatives,' Ali Ambrose, an influencer who critiques SkinnyTok, told me. (Ambrose struggled with an eating disorder for years, and says Schmidt's content pushed her back into unhealthy habits.) Schmidt's appeal does cross party lines, though. When I polled a politically diverse group of my own friends, my most conservative friends loved SkinnyTok. A number of my progressive friends did too; they just felt like they shouldn't say so out loud. Schmidt has written that the Skinni Société is not 'a starvation or extreme diet community.' She didn't respond to multiple requests for an interview, but I spoke with Amanda Dobler, another SkinnyTok influencer. She remains on TikTok, though she has twice been temporarily barred from its Creator Rewards Program, through which she made some money for her videos, for not abiding by 'community guidelines.' Dobler is almost 10 years older than Schmidt, so she attracts a slightly different demographic. I asked her if she considered herself a political person, or her content politically charged. She responded with a decisive no. 'I'm up at 4 a.m. working my ass off, so I would say I'm the opposite of a tradwife,' she told me. 'If people relate it to right wing, to left wing,' she said, 'there's only so much of the narrative that I can control.' Sophie Gilbert: What porn taught a generation of women Dobler is known for her directness. If anything, she's even harsher online than Schmidt is. Right before our call, I scrolled through her TikTok profile: 'You are killing yourself with the shit you eat. It's disgusting. And you should feel shameful.' I briefly wondered if she'd be able to detect my own insecurities through the phone. But the Dobler I spoke with was approachable and friendly. I instantly liked her. I even opened up to her about the things I wish I could change about my body. 'There's nothing wrong with wanting to look a little better,' she said. Unlike a number of SkinnyTok influencers who only just entered the field, Dobler has been a fat-loss and mindset coach for six years. She talks about the importance of getting your nutrients instead of exclusively practicing restraint. She also pushes for a consistent workout routine, while others focus exclusively on their step count to burn calories and avoid bulking at the gym (SkinnyTok is a spectrum). I brought up the criticism that SkinnyTok content encourages young people to adopt disordered-eating habits. Dobler said that she doesn't coach children, and that the majority of her clients are in their 30s through 50s. 'I get it. It's hard if you're a parent seeing stuff online,' she told me. 'But at the same time, there's porn online; there's a bunch of weird crap. I think that there is a lot of other censorship that should be going on.' When I asked why she was so harsh in her videos, she told me, 'That's the type of talk that I need. I wouldn't say that I'm mean. I'm just blunt.' She added, 'I've been in all of the situations that I'm talking through. So it's not like I'm just up here scolding people.' This echoed something Bhat had said to me: SkinnyTok's ruthless tone rings true to many women because they're already being so ruthless toward themselves. I'd be kidding myself if I said a woman's body size doesn't affect her prospects for dating, and even jobs. I would be lying if I said I did not desperately want to be slightly thinner—that I hadn't wanted that from the moment I first watched my mother critique her own body in her bedroom mirror. I hesitate to admit that I've lost four pounds since I saw my first SkinnyTok video. I have not walked 40,000 steps a day, nor have I stopped eating after three bites. I've just stopped eating when I'm full, which, as silly as it sounds, I did learn from SkinnyTok. Still, I think it's time to unsubscribe. The body of my dreams isn't worth risking my health for. I have two nieces, ages 3 and 6. I hate the idea that somebody might one day tell them to shrink themselves. To them, a swimsuit is nothing but a promise that they'll spend the afternoon running through the sprinkler. They're perfect, and they dream of being bigger, faster, stronger—not smaller.
New York Post
07-06-2025
- Health
- New York Post
‘Harmful' TikTok trend fueling new wave of ‘dangerous' diet culture
TikTok has long been a breeding ground for viral trends, but its latest subculture, 'SkinnyTok,' is reigniting old diet culture in a digital age. Behind the trendy filters and catchy sounds lies an extremely problematic reality – a community where thinness is idolised, extreme calorie deficits are glamorised, and the pursuit of a shrinking body is celebrated, often at the expense of mental and physical health. The rise of SkinnyTok Advertisement SkinnyTok refers to a corner of the internet where creators openly document their weight loss journeys, post 'what I eat in a day' videos featuring alarmingly low calorie counts, and share 'body checks' (videos where people weigh and measure themselves). Some even boast about 'gaslighting' themselves into being skinny, or confess to daily gym visits out of a fear of being 'fat' – even when they already fit society's narrow beauty standards. TikTok has, for its part, attempted to clamp down on this content. 5 TikTok has long been a breeding ground for viral trends, but its latest subculture, 'SkinnyTok,' is reigniting old diet culture in a digital age. Volodymyr – Advertisement Searching for 'SkinnyTok' now triggers a warning: 'You're not alone' and prompts people to seek help if they're struggling with body image, food, or exercise. Influencers like Liv Schmidt, who built a following of over 670,000 with her 'blonde and skinny' persona, have been banned. Yet, the algorithm still seems to serve up the very content it claims to protect users from. So, what can people do to safeguard themselves online? Advertisement First, you need to understand what SkinnyTok is, how the trend has managed to gain such a huge following, and who is most at risk. 5 Searching for 'SkinnyTok' now triggers a warning: 'You're not alone' and prompts people to seek help if they're struggling with body image, food, or exercise. Odua Images – The personal toll Jemma Haythorne, a confidence coach, speaker, and podcaster, knows firsthand the damage that online diet culture can do. 'I started hating my body when I was 12 years old, but really spiralled into disordered eating when I was 16. My friends and I would follow skinny content on Tumblr, using it as 'motivation' to eat less to achieve our goals of being thin,' she tells Advertisement For Haythorne, the pressure peaked during Schoolies, when the prospect of hundreds of Facebook photos led her to subsist on scarily low calories and avoid water to prevent 'bloating' – all ideas she picked up from social media. 'Instagram then became a dangerous place too for someone with body image issues and a fraught relationship with food,' she says, adding that the rise of fitness influencers and 'clean eating' trends was fuel for her already disordered behaviors. Her lowest point came between 2017 and 2019. 'Social media told me that everyone was thin, gorgeous, tanned, hairless, toned, and successful, because that's what the algorithm was serving me, and those were the people who were platformed,' she says. 'The message that I received was that I was failing, because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't meet those standards.' Haythorne believes that without social media, she would never have developed an eating disorder, depression, and anxiety to the extent she did. The cyclical nature of online trends She says she has witnessed body ideals shift over the years, from ultra-thin, to athletic and toned, to the 'Kim Kardashian' hourglass, and now back to just 'plain thin.' Advertisement Despite the rise of the body positivity movement, she's sceptical about its real-world impact: 'The body ideal has always come back to being in a smaller body — something that I desperately hope we can change in the future.' The influencer effect Influencers and content creators play a massive role in shaping body image perceptions, Haythorne argues. 5 Psychologist Carly Dober confirms that SkinnyTok can trigger and exacerbate disordered eating behaviors and eating disorders. Kate – 'Those who post content that encourages unhealthy relationships with food and bodies are directly damaging their audience. SkinnyTok content is incredibly problematic and harmful, and when this becomes trendy, it becomes dangerous, especially for those who don't have the knowledge and understanding of how damaging it is.' Advertisement But the damage isn't always obvious. Seemingly innocuous 'before and after' photos reinforce the idea that smaller is better, while meal inspiration videos suggest that copying someone's diet will yield the same body. 'Any form of editing of bodies or faces makes people think they need to live up to looking like that in order to be beautiful or worthy, yet the person themselves doesn't even look like that,' she notes. She claims that while platforms like TikTok and Instagram have a responsibility to manage the harm they promote, individual influencers must also be aware of their impact. The psychological impact Advertisement Psychologist Carly Dober confirms that SkinnyTok can trigger and exacerbate disordered eating behaviors and eating disorders. 'These trends influence how people perceive and evaluate their own bodies, and the bodies of others. Behaviorally, people may self-isolate, which can also impact their work, education, and relationships,' she explains. Beyond the psychological impact, the physical consequences are dire too. Eating disorders can harm the heart, digestive system, bones, teeth, and mouth. Advertisement Typical serious side effects include low blood pressure, slow or irregular heartbeats, feeling tired, weak, dizzy, or faint, constipation and bloating, irregular periods, and weak bones. Who's most at risk? According to Dober, certain groups are especially vulnerable to the dangers of SkinnyTok. These include: – Adolescents (especially those aged 12–25) with a median age of 18 – Women during key transition periods (e.g. finishing school) 5 'SkinnyTok content is incredibly problematic and harmful, and when this becomes trendy, it becomes dangerous, especially for those who don't have the knowledge and understanding of how damaging it is,' experts said. LIGHTFIELD STUDIOS – – Women with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome or diabetes – Athletes and those in appearance-focused activities like dancing – People with a family history of eating disorders – Anyone seeking help for weight loss or who has engaged in dieting or disordered eating The role of TikTok's culture Qualified nutritionist Yaz Jackson sees SkinnyTok as part of a broader trend of 'normalizing' harmful behaviors on TikTok. She notes that TikTok's culture is different from Instagram's: 'You can 'get away' with more. It's more of a diary, people feel like they can say whatever, and it's lighthearted, and nobody judges. I've seen creators say things like 'I could never share this on Insta, they'd judge me, but I can tell you guys,'' Jackson believes there's a trend of radical honesty emerging on TikTok, where creators are praised for sharing 'the tea' – the secrets behind their appearance, whether it's the use of medication, diets, or cosmetic surgery. Their content is being favoured, as people applaud them for being 'real' and 'not fake' – i.e., unlike the countless models and celebrities who pretend they eat pizza and burgers when the reality is much different. 'This trend then gains traction because when enough people make something okay to talk about again, they feel safer,' she said. 'Things that were once stigmatized are now being accepted – but only if you are super honest and transparent about it. People love that.' The dangers of unqualified advice Dr. Zac, a GP, urges people to exercise caution when seeking health advice online, especially when it comes from unqualified creators. 'Health advice should come from qualified professionals – doctors, registered dietitians, clinical psychologists – people with actual credentials, not just abs and a ring light. If someone's offering drastic weight loss 'hacks' or pushing extreme transformations, especially if they're profiting from it, be wary,' he says. Things to look out for include: 'Are they citing evidence-based sources? Do they promote balance over extremes? Are they championing sustainable health, or quick fixes and aesthetic perfection?' How to safeguard your mental health Dober and Zac recommend several strategies for protecting yourself online: Curate your feed: Block or mute content and creators that promote unhealthy behaviors 5 SkinnyTok refers to a corner of the internet where creators openly document their weight loss journeys, post 'what I eat in a day' videos featuring alarmingly low calorie counts, and share 'body checks.' Floral Deco – Use platform tools: Filter out triggering keywords where possible Limit screen time: Reduce endless scrolling to avoid algorithm rabbit holes Follow positive accounts: Such as ones that promote body neutrality, mental health, and self-compassion Seek support: If you're struggling, reach out to a psychologist or trusted professional. And as Zac puts it: 'Healing starts when we stop punishing ourselves and start listening to what our body and mind actually need.'
Daily Telegraph
07-06-2025
- Health
- Daily Telegraph
SkinnyTok: How TikTok's latest trend is fuelling a new wave of diet culture
Don't miss out on the headlines from Illness. Followed categories will be added to My News. TikTok has long been a breeding ground for viral trends, but its latest subculture, 'SkinnyTok', is reigniting old diet culture in a digital age. Behind the trendy filters and catchy sounds lies an extremely problematic reality – a community where thinness is idolised, extreme calorie deficits are glamorised, and the pursuit of a shrinking body is celebrated, often at the expense of mental and physical health. The rise of SkinnyTok SkinnyTok refers to a corner of the internet where creators openly document their weight loss journeys, post 'what I eat in a day' videos featuring alarmingly low calorie counts, and share 'bodychecks' (videos where people weigh and measure themselves). Some even boast about 'gaslighting' themselves into being skinny, or confess to daily gym visits out of a fear of being 'fat' – even when they already fit society's narrow beauty standards. TikTok has, for their part, attempted to clamp down on this content. Searching for 'SkinnyTok' now triggers a warning: 'You're not alone' and prompts people to seek help if they're struggling with body image, food or exercise. Influencers like Liv Schmidt, who built a following of over 670,000 with her 'blonde and skinny' persona, have been banned. Yet, the algorithm still seems to serve up the very content it claims to protect users from. So, what can people do to safeguard themselves online? First, you need to understand what SkinnyTok is, how the trend has managed to gain such a huge following and who is the most at risk. The personal toll Jemma Haythorne, a confidence coach, speaker, and podcaster, knows first-hand the damage that online diet culture can do. 'I started hating my body when I was 12 years old, but really spiralled into disordered eating when I was 16. My friends and I would follow skinny content on Tumblr, using it as 'motivation' to eat less to achieve our goals of being thin,' she tells For Ms Haythorne, the pressure peaked during Schoolies, when the prospect of hundreds of Facebook photos led her to subsist on scarily low calories and avoid water to prevent 'bloating' – all ideas she picked up from social media. 'Instagram then became a dangerous place too for someone with body image issues and a fraught relationship with food,' she says, adding that the rise of fitness influencers and 'clean eating' trends was fuel for her already disordered behaviours. Jemma Haythorne says social media contributed to her eating disorder. Picture: Instagram/jaythorne Her lowest point came between 2017 and 2019. 'Social media told me that everyone was thin, gorgeous, tanned, hairless, toned and successful, because that's what the algorithm was serving me, and those were the people who were platformed,' she says. 'The message that I received was that I was failing, because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't meet those standards.' Ms Haythorne believes that without social media, she would never have developed an eating disorder, depression, and anxiety to the extent she did. The cyclical nature of online trends She says she has witnessed body ideals shift over the years, from ultra-thin, to athletic and toned, to the 'Kim Kardashian' hourglass, and now back to just 'plain thin'. Despite the rise of the body positivity movement, she's sceptical about its real-world impact: 'The body ideal has always come back to being in a smaller body — something that I desperately hope we can change in the future.' 'SkinnyTok' is a new social media trend amplifying often tabooed discussions around wanting to be skinny. Picture: iStock The influencer effect Influencers and content creators play a massive role in shaping body image perceptions, Ms Haythorne argues. 'Those who post content that encourages unhealthy relationships with food and bodies are directly damaging their audience. SkinnyTok content is incredibly problematic and harmful, and when this becomes trendy, it becomes dangerous, especially for those who don't have the knowledge and understanding of how damaging it is.' But the damage isn't always obvious. Seemingly innocuous 'before and after' photos reinforce the idea that smaller is better, while meal inspiration videos suggest that copying someone's diet will yield the same body. 'Any form of editing of bodies or faces makes people think they need to live up to looking like that in order to be beautiful or worthy, yet the person themselves doesn't even look like that,' she notes. She claims that while platforms like TikTok and Instagram have a responsibility to manage the harm they promote, individual influencers must also be aware of their impact. The psychological impact Psychologist Carly Dober confirms that SkinnyTok can trigger and exacerbate disordered eating behaviours and eating disorders. 'These trends influence how people perceive and evaluate their own bodies, and the bodies of others. Behaviourally, people may self-isolate, which can also impact their work, education and relationships,' she explains. Beyond the psychological impact, the physical consequences are dire too. Eating disorders can harm the heart, digestive system, bones, teeth and mouth. Typical serious side effects include low blood pressure, slow or irregular heartbeats, feeling tired, weak, dizzy, or faint, constipation and bloating, irregular periods, and weak bones. Experts have warned against the dangers of SkinnyTok. Picture: iStock Who's most at risk? According to Ms Dober, certain groups are especially vulnerable to the dangers of SkinnyTok. These include: – Adolescents (especially those aged 12–25) with a median age of 18 – Women during key transition periods (e.g. finishing school) – Women with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome or diabetes – Athletes and those in appearance-focused activities like dancing – People with a family history of eating disorders – Anyone seeking help for weight loss or who has engaged in dieting or disordered eating The role of TikTok's culture Qualified nutritionist Yaz Jackson sees SkinnyTok as part of a broader trend of 'normalising' harmful behaviours on TikTok. She notes that TikTok's culture is different from Instagram's: 'You can 'get away' with more. It's more of a diary, people feel like they can say whatever, and it's lighthearted and nobody judges. I've seen creators say things like 'I could never share this on Insta, they'd judge me, but I can tell you guys''. Ms Jackson believes there's a trend of radical honesty emerging on TikTok, where creators are praised for sharing 'the tea' – the secrets behind their appearance, whether it's the use of medication, diets or cosmetic surgery. Their content is being favoured, as people applaud them for being 'real' and 'not fake' – i.e. unlike the countless models and celebrities who pretend they eat pizza and burgers when the reality is much different. 'This trend then gains traction because when enough people make something okay to talk about again, they feel safer,' she said. 'Things that were once stigmatised, are now being accepted – but only if you are super honest and transparent about it. People love that'. There are things you can do to safeguard your mental health online. Picture: iStock The dangers of unqualified advice Dr Zac, a GP, urges people to exercise caution when seeking health advice online, especially when it comes from unqualified creators. 'Health advice should come from qualified professionals – doctors, registered dietitians, clinical psychologists – people with actual credentials, not just abs and a ring light. If someone's offering drastic weight loss 'hacks' or pushing extreme transformations, especially if they're profiting from it, be wary,' he says. Things to look out for include: 'Are they citing evidence-based sources? Do they promote balance over extremes? Are they championing sustainable health, or quick fixes and aesthetic perfection?' How to safeguard your mental health Ms Dober and Dr Zac recommend several strategies for protecting yourself online: Curate your feed: Block or mute content and creators that promote unhealthy behaviours Use platform tools: Filter out triggering keywords where possible Limit screen time: Reduce endless scrolling to avoid algorithm rabbit holes Follow positive accounts: Such as ones that promote body neutrality, mental health and self-compassion Seek support: If you're struggling, reach out to a psychologist or trusted professional. And as Dr Zac puts it: 'Healing starts when we stop punishing ourselves and start listening to what our body and mind actually need'. Originally published as SkinnyTok: TikTok's latest trend is fuelling a new wave of diet culture
