The New “Summer Body”: How Weight Loss Drugs Are Reshaping Body Image
Graphic by Madison Krug
As the weather becomes warmer and students swap out their puffer jackets for tank tops, the usual conversations and internal pressures around the “summer body” have reemerged. But this year, the discourse feels different. Instead of the usual diet culture and gym routine talks, a whole new set of tools has entered the conversation: GLP-1 (glucagon-like peptide-1 agonist) drugs like Ozempic, along with peptide injections and “looksmaxxing” trends, have reshaped how young people think about their bodies and have created new expectations. These shifts have even reached Harvard’s student body and are quietly influencing how undergraduates perceive themselves.
Over the past year, weight loss has become increasingly medicalized and accessible, with pharmaceuticals reshaping questions of body image. These drugs are a class of medications originally developed to treat type 2 diabetes and, more recently, obesity, by regulating blood sugar and suppressing appetite. Drugs such as Ozempic and Wegovy work by mimicking a hormone that helps control insulin levels and signals fullness to the brain. This leads to reduced food intake and weight loss. Over the past year, their use has expanded rapidly beyond clinical settings, as people outside the medication’s original target population have sought it out for weight management. Recent polling suggests that roughly one in eight American adults reports having used a GLP-1 drug.
While these drugs have proven effective in clinical settings, medical professionals caution that they are not without risks. “GLP-1 medications have many potential side effects, including gastrointestinal issues (pancreatitis, gastroparesis, bowel obstructions), nutrient deficiencies, and muscle loss,” a primary care physician explained in a statement to the “Independent.” “In addition to these potential side effects, in persons where the medication is not indicated, they can increase risk of disordered eating,” the physician added.
The cultural influence of these drugs has expanded far beyond medical prescriptions, with brands and influencers capitalizing on it. For instance, Kourtney Kardashian’s company Lemme has released a series of weight loss support supplements, such as Lemme Reset and Lemme GLP-1 Daily, both of which claim to “promote your body’s GLP-1 production, reduce hunger & cravings, promote fat reduction and support healthy weight management.” Similarly, as a globally recognized athlete and cultural figure, Serena Williams partnered with the telehealth company Ro as a spokesperson and investor, publicly promoting its weight-loss programs and GLP-1-related treatments to a broad audience. Both Kardashian’s and Williams’ visibility and credibility extend far beyond their origin stories—whether that be sports or television—and their association with GLP-1 may encourage their fans to view these medications as both accessible and desirable.
At Harvard, conversations around wellness and self-care have carried a particular weight, shaped by a student body whose drive and determination can extend beyond academics and into physical self-optimization. In this environment, conversations about dieting and gym culture have become increasingly accompanied by references to GLP-1 drugs, peptide supplements, and other forms of physical adjustment strategies. Much like the rest of the country, Harvard students have begun to speak more casually about appetite suppression, caloric restriction, and medicalized approaches to weight loss.
“I’ve definitely noticed a shift in what feels normal. When I see people losing weight so quickly, it changes your expectations of what bodies are supposed to look like—even if you know it’s not realistic,” Riley Plante ’29 told the “Independent.”
Algorithm-driven environments where students come into contact with this content most frequently are part of the problem. Platforms such as TikTok are designed to rapidly personalize feeds, meaning that even minimal engagement with weight-loss content can quickly turn into inescapable exposure. “I see stuff about it all the time on TikTok. Honestly, even if you don’t go looking for it, once you see one or two videos, it just continues popping up,” student-athlete Henry Anthony ’29 said to the “Independent.” “A lot of the videos don’t even feel like ads. They’re just people talking about their experiences or showing results. So it feels more realistic, but I think that it also makes it more influential, just because it doesn’t feel like you’re being sold something.”
Anthony notes that while his own priorities are tied to athletic performance rather than appearance, the growing visibility of drugs like Ozempic contributes to a broader cultural pressure. “I can imagine, with all the influence online and with the rise in popularity of Ozempic, it would force a lot of people into thinking that they might need to meet some unrealistic beauty standard or some sort of higher standard for a summer body,” he said.
As teenagers and young adults, Harvard students are navigating the same insecurities and social pressures from which weight loss brands profit. As students described, the growing presence of these drugs on social media, often marketed toward younger audiences through influencers, has made it increasingly difficult to distinguish between medical treatment and lifestyle choice.
The same drive that fuels such successes can also make students more susceptible to pressures around body image, as the idea of constantly improving oneself can easily extend beyond the academic realm. For many students, weight loss is no longer solely about appearance. With easily accessible GLP-1 drugs, it becomes tied to ideas of efficiency, productivity, and optimization.
As these drugs and trends continue to gain popularity, the question is no longer about whether students will pursue a “summer body” or not, but how much the definition of that body has changed, and what is shaping it. For many, what makes this moment different is not just the presence of these drugs, but also how seamlessly they have been folded into everyday life. When such expectations are reinforced not just socially, but financially, and algorithmically, they become much harder to recognize—and even harder to resist. The result, as students express, is not a louder pressure, but a much quieter and more dangerous one: a new version of a “summer body” that feels increasingly defined not by individual choice, but by a system designed to shape it.
“People talk about it way more casually now. It’s not shocking anymore to hear that someone’s on Ozempic or taking peptides—it just feels like another option, like going on a diet,” Plante said.
Adin Hootnick ’29 (ahootnick@college.harvard.edu)is comping the “Independent.”