Aishwarya Rai to Ella Bright, why women cannot escape body shaming

From Aishwarya Rai Bachchan's Cannes scrutiny to the backlash against Off-Campus actor Ella Bright, here's why the internet's obsession with ageing, thinness and women's bodies reveals impossible beauty standards.

In Short

• Social media examined celebrity faces more than their work or presence
• Ageing male stars are reframed as charismatic while women face disappointment
• Healthy, fuller bodies are increasingly mislabelled as unacceptable by online standards

The internet is a fascinating place. It will collectively preach “body positivity” at 9 am, post “age gracefully, queen” by 11 am, and by lunchtime, zoom into a female celebrity’s face at 400 per cent to ask whether she has “let herself go”.

Which raises an important cultural question: are we actually uncomfortable with ageing and healthy bodies, or are we simply uncomfortable when women stop looking 23?

Because the reaction to Aishwarya Rai Bachchan at Cannes this year during the closing ceremony was not normal. It was anthropological. People were not discussing cinema, fashion, or even the fact that she remains one of the most globally recognisable Indian faces to ever walk a red carpet. Instead, social media turned into a forensic lab dedicated to answering one question: why does she not look like she did in 2002, when she made her Cannes debut at the premiere of Devdas?

Well, because it is 2026. Because time has passed. Because human beings age. Because skin moves. Because bodies fluctuate. Because gravity exists. Because life exists.

Here is Kangana's response to trolls bodyshaming Aishwarya:

(Picture: Instagram/kanganaranaut)

And yet, the outrage felt oddly personal, as though Aishwarya had violated some unwritten contract society made with beautiful women: you may have fame, success, power, longevity and relevance, but under no circumstances are you allowed to visibly age.

Men age into desirability. Women age into scrutiny

Male stars, meanwhile, are often repackaged by age. Eight out of ten ageing male celebrities are suddenly rebranded as “silver foxes”, “salt-and-pepper icons”, or simply — “daddy”. Their wrinkles are rugged. Their greying hair is sophisticated. Their tired eyes are “experienced”.

The same internet that calls a 52-year-old male actor “zaddy” will look at a woman of the same age and ask whether she is “okay”. Women are handed a completely different vocabulary: “hag”, “old”, “finished”, “botched”, “unrecognisable”.

That does not mean men are immune. They absolutely face body shaming too. Salman Khan has been mocked relentlessly for his changing physique and visible stomach despite speaking publicly about serious health conditions over the years. Fardeen Khan became the butt of cruel memes over weight gain before audiences suddenly embraced him again once he slimmed down. Even global celebrities like Justin Bieber have endured invasive commentary around appearance, health and exhaustion.

But this is where the narrative shifts. For men, the conversation often circles back to charm. Ruggedness. “He still has aura.” Society leaves room for men to age into desirability.

Women rarely receive that grace. There is always an undertone of disappointment, as though women owe eternal youth to the public.

And nowhere is this more obvious than in conversations around body size.

The backlash against Ella Bright, who plays Hannah Wells in Off-Campus, was one of the clearest examples of how internet beauty standards have become completely detached from reality. The criticism was bizarre because Ella Bright does not remotely resemble what medicine or science would classify as “fat”. She simply has a healthy, fuller body that does not fit the hyper-thin, Pinterest-fied image of female leads people have become addicted to.

Apparently, having thighs now counts as controversy.

The internet no longer recognises normal bodies

Somewhere between Instagram filters, Ozempic discourse and algorithm-driven beauty standards, society forgot what actual human bodies look like. Anything that is not razor-sharp collarbones and a visible ribcage immediately becomes “fat”. Which begs the question: what exactly is considered fat anymore?

Because according to the internet, having cheeks is fat. Having arms is fat. Existing after 35 is fat. Retaining water for three days is fat. Sitting down and having your stomach fold like a normal human being is apparently fat too.

Medical experts have long maintained that body size alone does not define health. Hormones, genetics, stress, medication, ageing and mental health affect every body differently. Thin does not automatically mean healthy. Fuller-bodied does not automatically mean unhealthy.

But internet culture does not care about health. It cares about optics. Which is why body shaming has become more dangerous than ever before. It disguises itself as “concern”. People bully celebrities for weight gain and then hide behind: “We’re just worried about health.”

No, you are not.

If society genuinely cared about health, it would not turn people into trending topics every time they gained visible weight. It would not mock women for ageing naturally while simultaneously criticising cosmetic surgery. It would not weaponise paparazzi photographs taken mid-blink to decide who is “glowing” and who has “fallen off”.

What we are witnessing is not concern. It is surveillance. And women live under harsher surveillance than men ever will.

Take the cast of Friends. Every few months, social media “rediscovers” that the actors have aged, as though audiences expected people frozen in 1998 to emerge from a cryogenic chamber looking exactly the same. The scrutiny over fillers, wrinkles, weight changes and facial structure is unhinged.

The rules are impossible. If women age naturally, they are “letting themselves go”. If they get cosmetic work done, they are “plastic”. If they lose weight, people accuse them of using Ozempic. If they gain weight, they become memes. If they remain conventionally attractive, they are accused of desperately trying to stay young.

It is a game designed for women to lose.

And perhaps the saddest part is how early this conditioning now begins. Teenagers are growing up watching completely healthy women being labelled “fat” online. They are learning that a normal body is somehow unacceptable. That ageing is failure. That softness is weakness. That looking human is embarrassing.

This is no longer harmless celebrity gossip. It rewires self-worth.

The entertainment industry — both in the West and in India — certainly fuelled these standards for decades. Cinema repeatedly sold women as fantasy objects while allowing men the luxury of transformation. Older male stars romance women half their age onscreen and audiences barely blink. Women crossing a certain age, meanwhile, are pushed towards “mother roles” whether they want them or not.

And yet, ironically, some of the most celebrated performances in recent years have come from actors who allowed themselves to look human. The industry is improving slowly, but audience conditioning remains decades behind.

Selena Gomez has repeatedly spoken about lupus medication affecting her body. Nicola Coughlan has asked interviewers to stop reducing her to her weight. Millie Bobby Brown grew up under a microscope before even reaching adulthood. Vidya Balan battled this throughout her career while delivering acclaimed performances. Ayesha Takia and Patralekhaa have both endured deeply invasive commentary about their appearances.

At some point, we need to ask ourselves why society feels so entitled to constantly evaluate women’s bodies in the first place. Maybe the real epidemic is not ageing. Maybe it is our inability to let people do it peacefully.

Because ageing is not failure. It is survival. It is privilege. It is evidence of a life being lived.

Aishwarya Rai Bachchan does not owe the world her 2003 face. No actor does.

And a healthy body does not become “fat” simply because the internet has forgotten what real bodies look like.

- Ends