The ballerina body: a dangerous pirouette

Are we twisting back to harmful ideals?

After analysing the latest procedures from 2023, the impeccably Botoxed members of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS) have declared the dawn of the ‘ballet body’ era. Dust off your leotards and leg warmers — today’s beauty ideal demands lean, athletic lines, spurred by a surge in liposuction and breast enhancement procedures. But with the ballerina’s physique often equated to impossibly low body fat, are we now flirting with a starvation standard dressed up as elegance? While the poise of a dancer is undeniably inspiring, this trend begs the question: are we still celebrating diverse body types, or sliding back into our unhealthy obsession with diet culture? I’m getting an uncomfortable ‘heroin chic’ flashback.

The ‘heroin chic’ aesthetic, iconic of the 90s, was a fashion phenomenon that idolised pale skin, dark undereye circles, androgyny, stringy hair and a skeletal physique — all traits associated with drug abuse (or severe lack of sleep and nutrients). Though supermodel Gia Carangi sparked the look, it was Kate Moss who became its enduring symbol, a stark contrast to the sun-kissed, athletic appeal of 80s icons like Claudia Schiffer and Cindy Crawford. This trend didn’t emerge in isolation; it aligned with a heroin boom marked by a price drop, higher purity and the ease of snorting, following the AIDS crisis that had stigmatised needle use. Heroin’s new allure permeated pop culture, subtly marketed to the affluent. But, in 1997, following the tragic, heroin-related death of fashion photographer Davide Sorrenti, his mother, Francesca, spearheaded a campaign that challenged the promotion of heroin chic in fashion. By 1999, the arrival of Brazilian supermodel Gisele Bündchen and her celebrated curves declared a return to a ‘healthy’ look, signalling the end of heroin chic. Curves were back — but for good, or just for now?

In recent decades, it seemed we were heading toward a more inclusive and body-positive future, championed by groundbreaking campaigns like Dove’s 2004 ‘Real Beauty’ initiative, which challenged the media’s reliance on airbrushed, unattainable images to sell beauty. Curvier supermodels, such as Ashley Graham, entered the spotlight, and people across the board appeared to rally against fatphobia, body-shaming and restrictive diets. It felt like a collective stand to dismantle the toxic beauty standards we largely grew up with. But was it all just surface-level? Despite the feel-good marketing, thinness ideals kept creeping back in. Case in point: the ‘thigh gap’ obsession that re-emerged around 2012 following a Victoria's Secret Fashion Show which featured several models with noticeable thigh gaps — a stark reminder that old standards die hard.

It’s as if the veil has lifted, and we’re back where we started — with ‘heroin chic’ now rebranded as its more wellness-friendly cousin, the ‘ballerina body.’ While this aesthetic might seem ‘healthier’ on the surface, promoting the ballet ideal glosses over a troubling reality: eating disorders are alarmingly common in the ballet world. The idealised ‘Balanchine body,’ named after George Balanchine, the so-called ‘father’ of American ballet, remains the aspirational standard. Known for his prolific choreography, Balanchine famously refused to cast dancers who weren’t ‘tall, leggy, linear, and frighteningly skinny’. Despite ballet’s claims of progress and a shift toward celebrating diverse talents, industry insiders often tell a different story.

According to the New York State Communication Association, thinness continues to be a decisive factor in hiring, casting, and promotion decisions, despite superficial nods to openness. During the pandemic, prominent ballet dancers like former NYCB Principal Lauren Lovette, current NYCB Principal Ashley Bouder, and former NYCB Soloist Kathryn Morgan shared personal stories of size discrimination on social media. According to a recent article published by the New York State Communication Association, ‘Fatphobia in Ballet: The Impact of Organizational Practices on Body Size and Mental Health in American Ballet Companies’, size is still a dominant criterion by which ballet dancers are judged, influencing hiring, casting and promotions. For many young dancers, the pressure to meet these exacting standards often begins around age twelve, pushing them into cycles of extreme discipline and body obsession. Tragically, eating disorders are ten times more common among ballet dancers than in the general population, with around 12 percent of dancers affected.

In Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan (2010), Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis underwent a rigorous training and diet programme to match the ballerina aesthetic, each having to lose around 20lbs. Kunis dislocated her shoulder and Portman dislocated a rib, among other injuries.

Since 2022, a ballet craze has swept in with barre classes and the rise of ‘balletcore’ — a TikTok fashion trend that celebrates the delicate femininity of a dancer’s style. The Guardian notes that the Kardashians, especially Kim, have been key in shaping today’s body ideals. Kim, often linked to the Brazilian butt lift (BBL) trend (despite denying having undergone the procedure herself), made headlines for her extreme diet to fit into Marilyn Monroe's dress for the 2022 Met Gala. While it’s a stretch to place the new wave of thinness obsession solely on the Kardashians, it’s hard to ignore the timing of Ozempic’s meteoric rise. As I highlighted in my article ‘The Dark Side of Ozempic’, the market for rapid weight loss has never been so accessible or glamourised, with high-profile fans like Oprah Winfrey and Elon Musk singing its praises. Ironically, Kourtney Kardashian recently faced backlash for releasing her own ‘Ozempic-style’ product, GLP-1 Daily, through her wellness brand Lemme, blending the wellness trend with thinness in a profitable twist.

The fashion industry, too, is reverting to extremely thin models, with 95% of recent runway looks modelled by size-zero women. Former casting director James Scully lamented in The Guardian that today’s models are once again ‘clothes hangers’, stripped of ‘the character and joy’ they embodied just a decade ago. Meanwhile, doctors are sounding alarms over weight-loss drug misuse, which has surged as these drugs become the latest quick fix to achieve a ‘beach-ready body.’ In the UK, drugs containing semaglutide (the active ingredient in Ozempic) require a prescription, but online pharmacies often conduct minimal checks, and a BBC investigation even uncovered an online black market and beauty salons offering semaglutide without prescription in London and Manchester. The health risks are troubling, but it’s the cultural shift they’re fueling that’s most concerning.

I’m saddened that despite progress in body positivity and acceptance, we’re hurtling backwards. The era of celebrating diverse bodies seems to be closing, masked under a wellness guise that’s as destructive as ever. With women literally risking their lives to be thin, we must ask ourselves: is this truly the world we want for our daughters and the next generation, and if not, what can we do to fight it?