Throughout history, the ideal female body has changed so much that the trends can be disorienting to follow. From the voluptuous figures of the early 19th century to the extreme thinness prized in the 1990s, these shifting beauty standards have placed women’s bodies under constant scrutiny. This falsely suggests that our worth is tied to our appearance and size, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

From a weight-inclusive and intuitive eating perspective, it’s important to know that these body ideals are not lasting truths, but cultural constructs. They constantly change, yet consistently marginalize people in larger bodies and uphold narrow — and often unattainable — standards of beauty. These evolving standards influence how people perceive themselves, how they’re treated, and how they approach nutrition and health.

Our current ideas about the “ideal” or “perfect” body didn’t come out of thin air. They’re actually the product of centuries of changing trends, each shaped by its own sociocultural context. When we look back, it becomes abundantly clear how much these ideals have fluctuated, and how rarely they’ve aligned with actual wellbeing (hint: never!). This history also helps us see that the pressure we feel to look a certain way is not natural or inevitable — it’s learned. The good news is, that means it can also be unlearned. 

Let’s take a closer look at how body ideals have shifted over time, and what they reveal about the culture that shaped them.

Prehistory to the 1900s

From prehistory to the 1900s, long before mass media was born, body standards were influenced by class, symbolism, and survival — not fashion or wellness trends. Instead, full-figured, curvy silhouettes were favored (Howard, 2018). These bodies were likely associated with fertility, abundance, and strength, especially during times when food was scarce and survival was uncertain. In later eras, such as the Renaissance, curvier figures became associated with wealth and femininity. They signaled access to food and leisure, in contrast to the smaller bodies of the lower working classes.

In the late 18th and 19th centuries, emphasis for women turned toward modesty and control, and corsets rose in popularity. The corsets, which were designed to force bodies into rigid hourglass shapes, sometimes caused health consequences such as fainting, heart palpitations, and even muscle atrophy (Ngo, 2019). Over time, this began to lend a moral tone to thinness, especially for white women of the upper class. The ideal woman was to be delicate and disciplined, even if her physical reality was shaped by extreme discomfort and restriction.

1900s-1910s

Near the beginning of the 20th century, the “Gibson Girl” emerged as one of the first mass media-driven beauty ideals in Western culture. Drawing on combinations of older ideals of beauty, this fictional woman was tall, full-busted, and elegant, with a tiny corseted waist (Mazur, 1986). Beyond the beauty and sexual appeal communicated by her physical characteristics, she also represented strictness and control. She marked a turning point in which thinness — and especially having a small waist — started to become idealized in a more sustained, public way, laying a foundation for the restrictive ideals that followed. Her popularity suggested that a “proper” woman should strive to mold her body into a socially acceptable form, regardless of the negative effects it may have on her wellbeing.

1920s

The 1920s brought radical changes in gender roles, fashion, and body ideals. In contrast to the curvaceous Gibson Girl, the new ideal was the flapper, who was slender, boyish, and flaunted long, muscular legs (Mazur, 1986). Their shorter hair and looser dresses rejected the hyper-feminine shapes of previous eras, which reflected the deeper social changes happening at the time as women were challenging traditional norms, entering the workforce, and gaining the right to vote. But even as their freedoms expanded, the pressure to conform to a specific body ideal remained. While the flapper was seen as rebellious and modern, her popularity also kicked off an era in which thinness became more aggressively pursued, setting the stage for the rise of dieting and the diet culture in coming decades.

1930s-1940s

In a slight departure from the extreme thinness of the 1920s, the ideal female body in the 1930s-40s shifted toward a softer, more curvy silhouette (Mazur, 1986). Despite the upheaval caused by the Great Depression and World War II, there was still a pressure for women to maintain a polished, socially acceptable appearance. As they took on new roles in the workforce, expectations around appearance did not ease — they adapted to reflect current events. Strength and sacrifice were encouraged, but only if paired with adherence to a narrow, controlled beauty ideal.

1950s

In the postwar 1950s, body ideals shifted again toward the hourglass figure, as exemplified by some prominent figures at that time such as Marilyn Monroe (Mazur, 1986). On the surface, this could have been interpreted as a celebration of fuller bodies, but in reality, the ideal was still incredibly narrow. There was always some kind of stipulation: be curvy, but not too large; sexy, but not immodest. So, although the ideal seemed to celebrate curves, body diversity was still unwelcome — perfection meant falling within a small, carefully curated range.

1960s-1970s

In the 1960s and 70s, the ideal swung the opposite way once again towards extreme thinness. And instead of foundational garments like corsets, the popular method of altering one’s body became diet and exercise (aerobics, anyone?). The growing popularity of fitness culture helped reframe body control as empowerment, often in ways that still tied worth to appearance and body size. What remained through the decades was that “in order for your body to be truly fashionable, you probably had to change it in some way” (Howard, 2018). 

The 1980s-2000s are when diet culture really exploded into what we know it as today. Low-fat foods and diet and exercise programs became massive industries, ushering in a full-blown diet culture (Gordon & Hobbes, 2020). Supermodels like Kate Moss idealized the “heroin chic” aesthetic — skinny and ‘waif’-like (Sypeck et al., 2004; Howard, 2018). The rise of extreme dieting and weight loss ads cemented the idea that thinness was beautiful and even virtuous, to the extent that dieting became a normalized way of life.

Unsurprisingly, this era marked a deep entrenchment of weight stigma in American society. Health messaging became increasingly entangled with moral judgement, and the BMI chart remained a popular yet misguided tool to categorize bodies. Many people growing up during this time period experience long-standing body image issues and internalized beliefs that their worth is tied to their body size. This legacy still sneakily lingers in the way we discuss “wellness,” even when diets are rebranded with new language.

2010s and Beyond

The 2010s saw the gradual rise of body positivity, driven by social media and activism from people in stigmatized bodies. Despite the many problems that came along with the rise of social media, it provided a platform that for the first time allowed for broader visibility for different body types and identities (Howard, 2018). Unfortunately, brands have often co-opted this movement, often showcasing only mildly curvy bodies that still fit within the conventional beauty standard. Simultaneously, “wellness” trends like restrictive eating or “detoxing” often masked diet behavior under new, more inconspicuous names. So, although essential conversations around body positivity were sparked during this era, true inclusivity remains a huge work in progress.

Building on that momentum, the 2020s have brought both progress and new challenges. On one hand, the body positivity movement opened up important conversations about size and identity. But on the other, social media keeps pushing new body trends that change with the algorithm. Influencers and celebrities play a big role in this, especially with the rise of weight-loss drugs like Ozempic, which have complicated the way we think about health and size. A lot of “wellness talk” still ends up reinforcing the same old thin ideal. Still, a growing number of people are pushing back, turning to intuitive eating, body neutrality, and weight-inclusive approaches that focus on how we feel, not just how we look. It’s a chaotic time, with a lot of pressure to fit in, but also a growing movement toward accepting ourselves as we are.

Throughout history, shifting female body ideals have functioned as a powerful tool of social control. Women’s bodies have long been held to narrow and contradictory standards, which are rarely about health. Instead, they were created by — and serve — the interests of industries and power structures that benefit from female insecurities.

Women have reported greater body dissatisfaction than men for over a century, with dieting emerging as a popular solution as early as the 1920s (Mazur, 1986).

The beauty standards go deeper than just wanting to “look good” —  they serve to keep women focused on appearance, taking up time, energy, and mental space that could be used elsewhere. 

Beauty ideals are ultimately a form of social control, shaping the choices women make and what they believe is possible for their lives (Baker-Sperry & Grauerholz, 2003). These ideals are also tied up with privilege, favoring whiteness, thinness, and wealth.

“A culture fixated on female thinness is not an obsession about female beauty, but an obsession about female obedience. Dieting is the most potent political sedative in women’s history; a quietly mad population is a tractable one.” 

– Naomi Wolf