Julie Bindel

Ozempic has ruined Easter

The temptations of chocolate bunnies and egg hunts are shrinking

  • From Spectator Life
(Photo: iStock)

It’s a funny thing, being a feminist surrounded by women on weight-loss drugs. As someone who recognises the health risks of being clinically obese, I’ve never been a fat liberationist – but pretty much all of us used to be against prescribed beauty standards. In practice this meant we would critique the harmful impacts of the ‘size zero’ or ‘heroin chic’ trends rather than obsess over having gained a few pounds over Christmas. Yet, with the rise of weight-loss jabs, skinniness has become a norm rather than a feminist discussion. And twee ideas about ‘being good’ or ‘cheating’ have been replaced by – well – feeling too nauseous to cheat at all. 

Which is why Easter is a fascinating holiday in this era of weight-loss jabs. After all, for many Western agnostics, Holy Week is as much about its chocolate trade as it is its Christian sentiments. What will Easter look like with so many saying no to chocolate bunnies and eggs, I wonder? Will the weight-loss industry mark the end of Easter as we know it? 

Around 1.6 million Britons are estimated to be on diet jabs. With the range of drugs now on offer (including Wegovy which is about to be made available on the NHS to around one million people at risk of heart disease) let’s assume there are more skinny people around than ever before – and many of them look terrible. ‘Ozempic face’ has left many with protruding teeth, bulging eyes and sagging facial skin as the weight drops off – all of which combine to make the user appear several years older. Whenever I see ‘Ozempic faces’ on the very feminists that used to rant and rage against the diet industry, I can only conclude that it wasn’t the industry that offended them after all. Perhaps it was simply the pain of having to count calories or restrict themselves rather than eat or drink what they really wanted – without the fear of added weight gain. 

Or, at least, that’s how many seem to think of the jabs. Last Christmas, the chief of the Independent Pharmacies Association said there was a huge increase in those requesting weight-loss injections to pre-emptively ward off weight gain over the festive period. She warned that these medicines are not intended for preventative use and expressed concern about them being seen as a quick or easy fix. Which, of course, they’re not – as the weight-loss crowd and their shrunken appetites will learn. 

Easter is a fascinating holiday in this era of weight-loss jabs. After all, for many Western agnostics, Holy Week is as much about its chocolate trade as it is its Christian sentiments

At Easter, we are supposed to eat roast lamb with garlic roast potatoes, honey glazed ham, hot cross buns, devilled eggs, creamy scalloped potatoes, simnel cake (fruitcake topped with marzipan) and of course chocolate eggs. I happen to dislike most of these: I positively detest hot cross buns, can’t eat marzipan and would sooner have a few Hotel Chocolat chocolates than any Easter egg. But what will the weight-loss crowd and their shrunken appetites tuck into instead? An iceberg lettuce sculpted into the shape of a bunny rabbit, perhaps? Ryvita crackers instead of hot cross buns? Will they be joining their children for matcha latte hunts instead of eggs?

For Good Friday, it is of course fish and chips all the way – but the Ozempic lot will have to poach a little bit of cod and serve it with a tiny, boiled potato. Not forgetting a squeeze of lemon as a substitute for mayonnaise.

Dessert would have to be a piece of fruit, of course, and, instead of devilled eggs, they can be boiled with sticks of carrots and celery to dip in, rather than buttered bread soldiers. The Easter egg hunt could end up being more of an endurance test than any kind of fun. Strap some weights on your back, fire up the fitness app on your watch and if – and only if – you burn off enough calories, you can have the equivalent in Easter treats: a single square of dark chocolate and a tiny simnel cake sour. 

There is, of course, another option: ditch the jabs, fill your face and don’t worry about the calories until after the holidays. Go on, it’s Easter.

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