14:46 7 August, 2026For several years, Ariana Grande has caused serious concern with her appearance, but discussions surrounding her figure flared up with renewed force after the release of the music video for "Petal"—the title track of her latest album. The video's plot, in which the 33-year-old pop singer enacts a Carrie-style revenge for male misogyny, was completely overshadowed by fans' anxiety over her emaciation. Against the backdrop of 1960s retro aesthetics, the bright clothing literally hangs on the artist's skeleton-like frame, Salon writes.
"I can't even enjoy the video because every second I feel like she looks sick," one user wrote under the video on YouTube.
The singer's PR team responded to the flurry of criticism with statements that after finishing her tour, Ariana plans to "step away from the public eye." They insist that the singer is living a "healthy and happy life," blaming the situation on "endless public scrutiny." Because of this, Grande also dropped out of her participation in the highly anticipated West End revival of Stephen Sondheim's musical Sunday in the Park with George.
Previously, the singer herself had urged the public to "be gentler and refrain from commenting on other people's bodies."
Known for her directness, actress Jameela Jamil, who previously struggled with a severe eating disorder, spoke out harshly on Instagram, noting that Grande's team's demands for privacy miss the point of the problem. She pointed to numerous impressionable young fans who lack support to combat anorexia, adding: "We shouldn't pretend to be blind just because it's a pop star."
The struggle for health, slenderness, and women's bodies has acquired a distinct political tint in recent years. Right-wing influencers (MAGA and MAHA) have turned the issue of weight into a true battlefield within the framework of the culture war.
Many right-wing figures openly promote the idea that women should not only be thin, but also look weak. Conservatives oppose not just fullness—even building muscle mass is now frequently presented as something "suspiciously feminist." Instead, girls are indoctrinated with a cult of fragility and sickly thinness.
Against the backdrop of the availability of appetite-suppressing drugs (such as GLP-1), influencers promoting starvation over a healthy lifestyle have gained popularity on TikTok.
As journalist Annie Joe Williams notes, behind harmless "diet tips" often hides an ultra-right agenda—algorithms quickly lead users to content in the spirit of "traditional femininity" and "the natural role of a woman."
Such sentiments are actively promoted, for example, by the ultra-right Christian publication Evie Magazine, which utilizes the aesthetics of gloss magazines. The pages of the publication openly praise influencers who claim that the only path to success is eating as little as possible.
Moreover, the magazine explicitly discourages women from weight training and exercises capable of developing leg muscles ("quads and thighs"), claiming this allegedly repels men. Also banned by ultra-right propagandists is cardio, which is falsely blamed for "hormonal disruption."
The only acceptable form of activity for right-wing influencers is Pilates—gentle exercises that do not involve heavy sweating or muscle building, which allegedly protect "fragile male egos." However, this approach forces women to strictly restrict calories to maintain a "size zero."
Ariana Grande holds progressive views and often uses feminist themes in her work. She would undoubtedly be horrified by how right-wing forces use the idea of thinness to intimidate women and suppress their agency.
However, the situation surrounding the singer once again exposes a dangerous reality: the romanticization of extreme thinness directly fuels eating disorders. In an era where self-care and health in political discourse are stigmatized as "woke" excess, it is becoming increasingly difficult for women to maintain a healthy perception of their bodies.