The Age of the Jab — Ozempic and the New Weight Loss Obsession
It began as a whisper, the sort you hear on glossy Instagram stories and behind the velvet rope of South Bombay brunches. A miracle drug, they said. For diabetes, sure — but also for weight loss. Rapid, dramatic, undeniable weight loss.
While SeleGomez’s sudden weight loss at the Oscars this year surprised all, she denied the usage of Ozempic or any weight loss drugs. However, the singer has accepted the usage of Botox
Before long, Ozempic wasn’t just a prescription medication. It was a phenomenon.
In India, the tipping point came — as it often does now — on reality television. A passing mention on Fabulous Lives of Bollywood Wives as Maheep Kapoor injected herself with it, on-camera, post her diabetes diagnosis, sent curiosity into overdrive. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about Botox and fillers anymore — those had already been normalised, practically mainstream. But Ozempic? This was new, sexy, and startlingly effective, or so they said.
From Mumbai’s elite to Delhi’s private clinics, the semaglutide wave had hit — and hard. Clinics began fielding frantic WhatsApp messages, gym bros whispered code names, and the term ‘Ozempic face’ became dinner-table vernacular among the fashion-conscious. If fillers were about retaining youth, Ozempic was about nailing the metabolism — with needles doing the heavy lifting.
What Is Ozempic, Really? And Why Should We Be Worried?
Originally developed to manage blood sugar in patients with type 2 diabetes, Ozempic, the brand name for semaglutide, works by mimicking a naturally occurring hormone called GLP-1. There are multiple other semaglutide brands in the market, and now, spin-offs too. Ozempic and Mounjaro are injectable medications approved for treating type 2 diabetes, while their counterparts Wegovy and Zepbound, all brand names — containing similar active ingredients (semaglutide and tirzepatide, respectively) — are approved specifically for weight loss and long-term weight management. Think of it like paracetamol sold under different brand names — the core compound remains the same, but the branding and approved use cases vary.
Semaglutides slow digestion, suppress appetite, and regulate insulin levels. In some cases, they have also been helpful in reducing the scope of cardiovascular diseases. For diabetics, it can be life-changing. For non-diabetics chasing the perfect silhouette, it’s a shortcut — albeit a risky one.
At first glance, the numbers dazzle: users report losing anywhere from 7kg to 15kg over a few months, often with minimal effort. Appetite decreases dramatically, portion sizes shrink, and cravings vanish. It’s no wonder the diet industry is in a state of existential crisis.
But dig a little deeper and the shine wears off.
Common side effects include nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea, constipation and fatigue. More serious complications — like pancreatitis, gallstones, and thyroid tumours — have been reported, though rare. A 2023 study published in JAMA found that nearly one-third of non-diabetic users stopped taking semaglutide within a year due to adverse effects. Professor Dr Arjun Baidya, endocrinologist at NRS Hospital, says, “We do use semaglutides to cure diabetes type 2 depending on the patient’s needs. However, we don’t prescribe it just for obesity. In some findings on animal research, Ozempic has caused pancreatitis. It should not be taken without prescription or can be really harmful.”
Then there’s the cosmetic fallout: the now-infamous Ozempic face and the drug being dubbed as “the skinny jab”. As users shed weight, they also lose fat from the face — leading to a sunken, prematurely aged appearance. The irony? Many then turn to fillers to re-inflate their features, setting off a new cycle of dependency on aesthetic intervention. Dr Rahul Jain, consultant internal medicine specialist and diabetologist at Belle Vue Clinic, says, “Ozempic is a drug that is only prescribed when a patient is diabetic (type 2) and obese. However, it does not suit everyone so we have to consider several restrictions before prescribing it to our patients. Moreover, for obesity, we first advise lifestyle changes instead of prescribing a drug right away, depending on the seriousness of the situation. It is really not that easy to just walk in and ask for Ozempic or any semaglutide prescription from a medical professional. Moreover, resorting to semaglutides can be dangerous for patients struggling with anorexia or other eating disorders. In fact, famous fads like the keto diet is not something we advise in Indian households because it is extremely tough. We initially suggest working out, eating healthy, a diet that is accessible in Indian standards, and in selective cases resort to drugs.”
Worse still, supply shortages — triggered by its popularity among non-diabetic users — have left actual diabetics scrambling to access the medication they genuinely need. It’s a stark example of how the cosmeticisation of medicine can have very real consequences for public health. From 2022 to 2025, Novo Nordisk, the parent company of drugs like Ozempic and Wegovy, could not solve the shortage of these drugs.
In recent news, the FDA has banned compounded versions of popular drugs like Ozempic, Mounjaro, Wegovy, and Zepbound, warning patients about the dangers of counterfeit alternatives amid skyrocketing demand. Experts stress the importance of only using FDA-approved medications from licensed pharmacies, as compounded versions carry risks of contamination and inaccurate dosing. Despite their high costs and potential side effects, these GLP-1 drugs remain widely sought after for their effectiveness in significant weight loss and improved health outcomes. However, access remains unequal, with many unable to afford or locate legitimate doses.
Who’s Using Ozempic? Celeb Confessions and Instagram Echo Chambers
Ozempic’s ascent from a pharma product to pop culture icon has been fuelled by a peculiar modern engine: celebrity speculation. First came the whispers — who had slimmed down too fast? Whose red-carpet cheekbones looked suspiciously lean? The before-and-afters made the rounds, shared not by tabloids, but by Twitter threads and TikTok sleuths.
Oprah Winfrey has accredited her drastic weight loss to semaglutides
In 2023, Elon Musk casually tweeted that he used Wegovy (another brand name for semaglutide) to stay fit. That tweet alone triggered a media storm and helped catapult the drug into the global spotlight. Musk then tweeted on Christmas 2024, “Ozempic Santa”, along with a picture of him where he looked drastically slimmer. Oprah Winfrey opened up about the usage of Ozempic and her struggle with losing weight. She said on her podcast, “One of the things that I realised the very first time I took a GLP-1 was that all these years I thought that thin people just had more willpower, they ate better foods, they were able to stick to it longer, they never had a potato chip, and then I realised the very first time I took the GLP-1 that, ‘Oh, they’re not even thinking about it. They’re only eating when they’re hungry, and they’re stopping when they’re full.” Kelly Clarkson, comedian Jim Gaffigan, James Corden, Amy Schumer, Tracy Morgan, Sharon Osbourne, Rebel Wilson and innumerable influencers have admitted the usage of Ozempic.
Elon Musk shared this on X and captioned it “Ozempic Santa”
Other celebrities have been more opaque. While Kim Kardashian, Jennifer Aniston, Khloe Kardashian, and Julia Fox have all been rumoured to have used Ozempic or similar drugs, none have confirmed it outright. Their transformations — flaunted in barely-there dresses and sharp-edged paparazzi photos — are studied with forensic intensity.
Kim Kardashian
Back home in India, it’s harder to name names, but the shift is visible. Stylists and makeup artists whisper of actors suddenly shrinking between projects. A-list gym trainers are rumoured to carry injectable kits in discreet toiletry bags. Still, admissions are rare. There’s a cultural shame in India about medicalising vanity, even while obsessively pursuing it. Unlike Botox or lip fillers — now proudly worn by housewives and influencers alike — Ozempic remains the worst-kept secret in the room. In fact, when the Internet was ablaze with Karan Johar’s before-after pictures, Ozempic was speculated to be the cause. However, he attributed it to the gym.
When Karan Johar walked the Lakme Fashion Week ramp, the memes on Ozempic were raging. He denied the usage of Ozempic.
Fillers, Botox & the Billion-Dollar Beauty Blueprint
To understand the Ozempic boom, one has to place it in context — specifically, within the broader machinery of the beauty-industrial complex. We’re now in an age where tweaking your face is considered routine maintenance, no more controversial than balayage or a gel manicure. Kylie Jenner, Cindy Crawford, Gwyneth Paltrow, Britney Spears, Courtney Cox, Kaley Cuoco, Chrissy Teigen, Katy Perry, Sofia Vergara, Vanessa Williams and a bevy of A-listers have admitted to using Botox and fillers and most of them have accepted regular usage.
Chrissy Teigen has always been transparent about her cosmetic surgeries and procedures
Sofia Vergara
Several Bollywood celebrities have often seen undergoing massive transitions — Janhvi Kapoor, Ananya Panday, Suhana Khan, Aditi Rao Hydari, Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Mouni Roy and the list goes on. While none of them have actually confirmed using injectables, Priyanka has opened up about her nose and lip job when she talked about people calling her “plastic Chopra”. The entire casts of shows from the Housewives franchises and Fabulous Lives of Bollywood Wives have been transparent about getting injectables like facials.
Is this a bad thing? Who are we to judge? There’s agency in wanting to look a certain way, especially in an industry or society where appearance plays a disproportionately large role. If someone finds confidence, comfort, or creative freedom in a syringe or scalpel, it’s their prerogative. The issue lies not in the act itself, but in the silence that often surrounds it. When celebrities appear perpetually youthful and wrinkle-free, without acknowledging the work that went into it, it skews the cultural baseline. The result is a generation of women who believe they’re “ageing badly” when they’re simply ageing naturally.
It is no more just restricted to women. Joe Jonas has not only partnered with Xeomin, a FDA-approved alternative to Botox, but he has also been open about it being his “anti-ageing secret”. Robbie Williams, Gordon Ramsay and Simon Cowell have also been pretty vocal about their cosmetic injectables.
Joe Jonas; (right) Simon Cowell has publicly owned up to Botox
Botox, once feared for its toxic origins, is now injected casually to “prevent ageing” before it begins. Teenagers on TikTok discuss “baby Botox” to freeze their 20-something foreheads. Clinics advertise jawline contouring and lip flips as if they were weekend spa packages. And fillers? They’ve become the gateway drug of aesthetic culture — injectable Instagram filters, one ml at a time. In Calcutta alone, there has been a boom in skin clinics that have dermatologists on call ready to give you the gift of youth in seconds. When in conversation with one such clinic owner, they shared that they also hosted “filler parties”. Yes, kitty parties with the main activity being Botox and fillers.
The effects are not just skin-deep. Facial filler migration, vascular occlusion, asymmetry, and unnatural proportions are becoming increasingly common. Even when well-executed, the result is often homogeneity — a world where everyone’s face looks optimised, symmetrical, and eerily similar. Remember when Karen Smith in Mean Girls looked into the mirror and said, “My pores are too big!” and we laughed it off back in the day as a humorous thing? It is apparently a real problem now with a solution that rests in various corners of all megacities.
Dr Bhaskar Das, neuro-psychiatrist at NRS Hospital, said, “The usage of Botox, fillers, Ozempic to enhance beauty is new but the concept is old. If Lady Gaga has a certain hairstyle, we all wanted it back in the day. So, now it is deeper — a body type, or a tan, or a complexion. Ozempic is a drug that kills your appetite and that if taken on a long term without prescription can lead to depression. You know how you crave sweet when you feel under the weather? It is because carbs make your body release happy hormones. So, when you stop your body from even feeling that need, it will have long-term effects.”
Behind all this lies an industry worth over $70 billion globally, powered by social media, FOMO, and a clever cocktail of insecurity and aspiration. The aesthetic ‘ideal’ keeps shifting, but the message remains clear: the natural you isn’t enough. Dr Sachin Verma, chief dermatologist and director, Skinvita Clinic, says, “Social media is a major driving force behind the boom of this industry. Today beauty standards are no more decided by a taunt in the group, it is decided by the Internet. We have multiple clients, both male and female, who come to us for a touch-up. However, we do not encourage youngsters regarding Botox. You see, it is okay if you want to look 57 when you are 65 but trying to look 18 when you are 38 is a bit of a stretch. We don’t just inject Botox into every client that wants it, we explain the side-effects, the effects and discuss it with them on how much do they actually need it. They come back for a session if they decide. These injectables are also class-based on a level. The upper class wants to look elegant, the upper middle class, new money, wants to try out what their influencer friend got, and the others want to hop on the bandwagon, often going too far or striving to stay relevant. We also have men wanting hair implants and skin tightening.”
And unlike the diet culture of the 2000s — which could be rejected with a slice of pizza and some feminist reading — today’s beauty culture has medicalised the transformation. These aren’t just beauty choices anymore. They’re interventions that come with syringes, side effects, and subscription plans.
The Consent Clause — Beauty, Autonomy and Safety
Let’s get one thing straight: this is not an anti-Botox, anti-Ozempic screed. Bodies are personal terrain. If you want to freeze your frown, plump your lips, or slim your frame with a prescription drug — that is your right. Beauty, like gender and fashion, is fluid. And sometimes, transformation is not about vanity but survival. For people with dysmorphia, trauma, or chronic health struggles, these treatments can offer relief, even salvation.
In a conversation with strength and conditioning coach Ranadeep Moitra, he said, “No amount of medicines can give your body the strength and fitness that can be naturally achieved from working out, in a safe and consistent manner. First, weight loss shouldn’t be the ideal, fitness should be. Second, if weight loss is the aim, nobody can achieve it overnight. Setting unreal standards by comparing oneself to celebrities and influencers is not advisable. There is a difference between reel and real.”
Which brings us to the safety concerns that so often go unaddressed in this billion-dollar industry — concerns that are frequently glossed over in favour of aspirational aesthetics and Instagram-friendly transformations. Despite the growing accessibility of injectables and weight-loss drugs, the reality is that not all treatments are created equal, and neither are the people administering them.
Not every beauty parlour with a back room is equipped — legally or medically — to handle injectables. In some cases, what’s offered as a “quick fix” or a “lunchtime tweak” is being performed in settings with questionable hygiene standards and by individuals without proper training in dermatology, pharmacology, or human anatomy. Similarly, the rise of online pharmacies and grey-market vendors has opened the floodgates to counterfeit or unregulated products. It’s easy to click “add to cart” — but what’s in that vial? Who made it? And what happens if it goes wrong?
Then there’s the influencer economy, which thrives on affiliate links and discount codes but rarely on full transparency. Many of the people promoting injectables, fillers, or off-label Ozempic use have no medical background, and yet they’re giving advice on dosage, managing side effects, or “what to expect” — as though a facial transformation is the same as unboxing a beauty blender. It’s a dangerous conflation of expertise and visibility, where clout outweighs credentials.
This is why, if you’re going to put something into your body — whether it’s semaglutide or filler — it must be with a certified medical professional. Someone who understands the complexity of your anatomy, who takes a detailed medical history, explains potential complications, and has the training to respond if something goes wrong. A practitioner who sees you as a patient, not a post. In a culture that increasingly equates youth with worth and visibility with validation, taking control of your appearance can feel like an act of empowerment. But it can also become a quiet submission — to standards that aren’t your own, to comparisons you never consented to, and to a cycle of enhancement that’s never quite finished.
Beyond the safety protocols and practitioner qualifications, there’s another layer of reflection that’s just as crucial: the “why”. Why are you doing this? Is it a choice rooted in self-care and confidence? Or is it driven by a beauty algorithm that keeps morphing, shapeshifting, and raising the bar every time you log in? Are you fully informed — or have you been subtly nudged into a decision by curated reels, glowy testimonials, and before-and-afters that never show what happens in the hours, days, or years after? Have you made an informed choice — or are you following someone else’s filtered reflection?
The Endgame — When Beauty Becomes Biology
In some ways, these drugs and treatments are a perfect metaphor for our times: effective, addictive, and increasingly difficult to quit. We are a culture chasing shortcuts, in a society that celebrates results over process, appearance over authenticity.
We inject to fit in. We sculpt to stand out. We medicate hunger — both physical and emotional — in the hope that a thinner body, a smoother face, a flatter stomach will finally buy us peace. But peace doesn’t come in a pre-filled syringe. Neither does confidence, identity, or joy. As aesthetic technology races ahead, our ethics, regulations and self-worth must catch up. It’s time to slow down and ask: What are we really buying when we buy into the next cosmetic fix?
Because a culture that sees bodies as projects will always find something else to fix — another flaw, another fad. And in that endless pursuit, we risk losing sight of the quiet, radical truth: You were never a problem that needed solving.