The fashion world has always had a complicated relationship with body size. For decades, the modeling industry has prized extreme thinness, with sample sizes hovering around zero. But the explosion of GLP-1 medications is introducing a powerful new shortcut to achieving and maintaining that coveted look. These drugs include semaglutide (Ozempic, Wegovy) and tirzepatide (Mounjaro, Zepbound).

A recent Vogue article explores how these weight-loss drugs are influencing casting calls, runway shows, and the overall aesthetic of the industry. What was once achieved through rigorous dieting, exercise, or more extreme measures now has a pharmaceutical assist for many.

The Pressure Was Already There

Modeling has long demanded bodies that fit into tiny sample garments. Agents, designers, and casting directors have historically favored slimmer frames, often at great personal cost to the models. The rise of body positivity and size inclusivity in the late 2010s and early 2020s brought some progress, with more curvy models appearing in campaigns and on runways. In some instances it went too far, as some in the industry seemed to forget that customers want to see beauty, even if it came in other shapes and sizes. Now, recent seasons have shown a noticeable shift back toward uniformity and skinnier silhouettes.

GLP-1 drugs offer a tempting solution in this high-stakes environment. They suppress appetite dramatically, slow digestion, and can lead to significant weight loss, often 15 percent or more of body weight. For models who need to stay sample-size ready year-round, these medications can feel like a game-changer. They reduce the constant battle against hunger and yo-yo dieting. But is it healthy?

Impacts on Models and the Industry

Many in the industry are quietly using or considering GLP-1s. The result is a potential increase in the number of models who can maintain very low body weights more easily and consistently. This may contribute to the observed return of “heroin chic”–style thinness on some runways (we loved Kate Moss!!), with fewer curvy models booked and a narrower range of body types overall.

On the positive side, some argue that it allows models to focus more on their craft rather than obsessive calorie counting. However, concerns abound. Side effects like nausea, muscle loss, and fatigue can affect energy levels needed for long shoot days and travel. There are also ethical questions regarding health issues. And what happens to models who do not have access to these expensive treatments?

A Bigger Cultural Shift

This is not just about fashion. It is part of a larger societal change. As GLP-1 drugs become more accessible and affordable, the pressure to be thin is intensifying across industries, from Hollywood to corporate offices. In modeling, where appearance is the product, the impact is especially pronounced.

Experts and insiders worry about the long-term health implications for young models and the message this sends to the public. At the same time, some see it as a tool for better health management in a demanding profession. Models have gone to extreme measures in the past to stay thin, leading to eating disorders. Are GLP-1s a better option? We don’t know at this point.

Looking Ahead

The modeling industry stands at a crossroads. Will GLP-1s lock in a return to extreme thinness, or can the industry use this moment to promote healthier, more sustainable approaches to body management, with proper medical oversight, nutrition, and strength training to preserve muscle?

As these drugs continue to evolve, with new oral versions and combinations on the horizon, their influence on beauty standards will likely grow.

The podcast industry is evolving, as is pretty much everything in the entertainment business. We’ve been hearing about “convergence” for decades but now we’re seeing an acceleration. We’re seeing podcasts turn into YouTube channels and vice versa. We’re seeing YouTubers streaming on channels like Netflix. All of the lines between delivery platforms are blurring. This creates huge opportunities for many, but it’s also unsettling for those who like to stay in their comfort zone.

We’re also seeing monetization strategies evolve as well, with podcasters and YouTubers embracing a wide variety of revenue sources beyond just traditional advertising. These types of 360 deals work particularly well with celebrity podcaster and creators.

A recent article in the New York Times explains this in the context of the New Heights podcast from Jason and Travis Kelce. Podcasts can essentially “become an entire lifestyle brand — complete with merchandise, live events, shoppable content, and dedicated fan hubs.” This approach marks a significant evolution. Instead of just selling ad slots, Amazon is helping creators monetize their personal brands across multiple touchpoints — social media, live events, product lines, and more. Other big names like Dax Shepard, Keke Palmer, and LeBron James are also part of the roster.

And it’s not just Amazon. The article doesn’t address this, but niche content creators, including those in the B2B space, can also leverage their audience across multiple platforms, particularly newsletters and memberships.

This article focuses more on creators in the entertainment space:

Fans will show up for — and spend money on — anything and anyone connected to their favorite shows. This logic is aligned more with product placement, sponsored content or celebrity endorsements (or a hybrid of all three) than with traditional podcast advertising. Under every rock is a monetization opportunity.

Not every celebrity can pull this off. We saw a rush of celebrities try to launch podcasts during and after Covid, and many of them failed. Few have the personality to thrive with this type of content. But those who do can make a killing, and we’re now seeing companies expand the types of revenue opportunities available to these creators.

I had seen every James Bond film other than “Never Say Never Again,” released in 1983. That omission probably wasn’t accidental. The film occupies a strange and controversial place in the Bond canon: an unofficial, non-Eon Productions entry that marked Sean Connery’s return to the role of 007 after a twelve-year absence. When Netflix recently licensed all 26 Bond films from Amazon in a somewhat surprising move, including this odd, non-Eon outlier, I finally took the opportunity to check it off the list.

Unfortunately, the experience was a letdown. “Never Say Never Again” is a complete mess, and it has aged terribly. Some scenes are so misguided that they feel like unintentional parody, with the Blofeld scenes and dialogue standing out as particularly cringe-worthy. To be fair, many of the Bond films leading up to “Never Say Never Again” haven’t aged especially well either. Their pacing often drags, and Bond’s “cool” factor we all love is frequently buried under long, dull stretches and strained attempts at humor. This film suffers from all of those problems, only here they’re compounded by a weak script and thoroughly schlocky production values.

The Backstory

How did this film ever get made? The premise isn’t bad – an aging Bond comes back from another adventure. But Eon Productions was also releasing a new Bond film in 1983, the also forgettable “Octopussy” starring Roger Moore. Needless to say it was quite strange to have competing Bond films released in the same year.

The story behind the film traces back to the early 1960s and a long-running legal battle over the rights to Ian Fleming’s novel Thunderball. In the late 1950s, Irish producer Kevin McClory collaborated with Fleming and screenwriter Jack Whittingham on a screenplay titled “James Bond of the Secret Service” (later “Warhead”), which introduced SPECTRE and villain Ernst Stavro Blofeld, centering on stolen nuclear warheads. When the partnership soured, Fleming turned the script into the novel Thunderball (1961) without crediting McClory or Whittingham. McClory sued Fleming for breach of copyright, leading to a 1963 settlement that gave McClory film rights to the Thunderball story. Eon Productions (run by Albert R. “Cubby” Broccoli and Harry Saltzman) then struck a deal with McClory to produce the 1965 “Thunderball” film, but McClory agreed not to remake it for 10 years after its release.

Fast forward to the late 1970s, as McClory tried to exercise his rights to Thunderball, SPECTRE, and Blofeld. He wanted to make his own film and Eon fought to block it. Eon even killed off Blofeld unceremoniously in “For Your Eyes Only.” In the early 1980s, producer Jack Schwartzman partnered with McClory to revive the project. They secured Sean Connery, who had quit the Bond franchise after “Diamonds Are Forever” (1971), vowing he’d “never again” play Bond. A lucrative deal reportedly worth $3–5 million plus script/casting approval and profit shares apparantly changed his mind. Connery’s return was partly motivated by financial needs after some box-office flops and lingering resentment toward Broccoli (whom he reportedly felt had shortchanged him on earlier profits).

Directed by Irvin Kershner (“The Empire Strikes Back”), the film was shot as a remake of the “Thunderball” plot, with Bond recovering stolen nukes from SPECTRE. They tried to add in modern updates and humor about Bond’s age (Connery was 52), but there would be no gun-barrel sequence in the opening or classic title song due to legal restrictions. Production was notoriously troubled: constant clashes between Kershner, Schwartzman, and Connery; budget overruns; and Connery later calling it a “bloody Mickey Mouse operation” full of “incompetence, ineptitude, and dissension.” There were constant script rewrites and it shows.

Bad From the Start

The film’s weak opening sets the tone immediately. The theme song is just terrible, and the rest of the score isn’t much better. Without the iconic gun-barrel sequence, the whole thing feels like a pale imitation rather than a legitimate Bond film.

As we said, the premise isn’t bad, and Connery handles his business well here. He’s very comfortable as an older Bond, and while some of the jokes about his age fall flat, he still offers up plenty of charisma and is believable as an older secret agent who can still score with the ladies.

Things truly go off the rails with the introduction of Blofeld. Max von Sydow, an actor capable of real menace and gravitas, is saddled with some of the worst dialogue imaginable. In his brief appearance addressing SPECTRE, he outlines the nuclear extortion plot through an absurd, leaden speech that serves as clumsy exposition rather than dramatic threat. He then doubles down with an even more ridiculous monologue delivered to British and American officials, spelling out the scheme in cartoonishly blunt terms:

“A terrible catastrophe now confronts you. However, it can be avoided by paying a tribute to our organization, amounting to twenty-five percent of your respective countries’ annual oil purchases. We have accomplished two of the functions that the name SPECTRE embodies: terror and extortion. If our demands are not met within seven days, we shall ruthlessly apply the third: revenge!”

Edward Fox doesn’t help matters with his buffoonish portrayal of M. It’s hard to say whether the blame lies with the script or the direction, as Fox is usually a fine actor. The supporting cast fares no better. Even a cameo by a young Rowan Atkinson as a bumbling British diplomat fails to generate more than a token chuckle.

Another low point arrives with the often mocked video-game duel between Bond and Maximilian Largo (Klaus Maria Brandauer). Someone clearly thought this was a clever way to appeal to the video-game generation. It wasn’t. The sequence drags on far too long, cycling through repetitive visuals, painfully slow tension-building via electric shocks, and exposition-heavy explanations of the rules. Once again, the dialogue is clumsy and overworked. In theory, the scene is meant to show Bond and Largo sizing each other up psychologically and physically; in practice, it plays like tedious filler that brings the film to a halt.

Bright Spots

Any film featuring Sean Connery as James Bond is bound to deliver at least a few genuinely enjoyable moments, and “Never Say Never Again” is no exception. Connery doesn’t disappoint; his ease in the role and natural screen presence give die-hard fans plenty to appreciate. Brandauer also clearly relishes his turn as Maximilian Largo, injecting the film with energy and providing Bond with a villain who, at least conceptually, feels worthy of the matchup.

There’s also no shortage of action, even if it’s unevenly paced. The shark sequence is a clever set piece, and the motorcycle chase stands out as one of the film’s more effectively staged moments. I also enjoyed Bond’s elimination of Fatima Blush (Barbara Carrera), particularly the use of one of Q’s gadgets — a reminder of the playful ingenuity that, at its best, defines classic Bond.

Bond Girls

Which brings is to the Bond girls. It’s hard to screw this part up, as there’s no shortage of beautiful actresses who would jump at the chance to be in a Bond film.

Barbara Carrera was an inspired choice to play Fatima Blush, bringing a strong physical presence and exotic beauty to the part. As a Nicaraguan-born former model who had graced the covers of over 300 magazines and worked with the prestigious Eileen Ford agency since her teens, she had the glamorous, striking looks that fit the Bond franchise’s tradition of alluring villainesses. Her statuesque figure, intense eyes, and commanding screen charisma made Fatima visually memorable and convincing as a dangerous femme fatale who could threaten Bond both physically and sexually.

Fatima herself is vain, psychotic, and completely unhinged, and Carrera commits fully to the excess. The performance is wildly over the top, but deliberately so—and she clearly revels in it, right up until the character meets her explosive end.

For the role of Domino Petachi, Kim Bassinger was personally selected for by Connery after his wife suggested her. Domino is the glamorous, sophisticated mistress/girlfriend of the villain Largo. She is also the sister of Captain Jack Petachi (Gavan O’Herlihy), a U.S. Air Force pilot brainwashed and used by SPECTRE to steal two nuclear warheads. After Bond infiltrates Largo’s world in the Bahamas and learns of the scheme, he seduces Domino (of course) and reveals the truth about her brother’s fate (including that Largo orchestrated his death). This betrayal turns Domino against Largo. She defects to Bond’s side, providing key information and ultimately participating in the climax of the film.

Basinger handles the role well, though it’s clear she would deliver far stronger work later in her career. She looks gorgeous, as expected, and that ultimately covers most of what the part demands.

Aftermath

“Never Say Never Again” performed respectably at the box office, earning roughly $160 million worldwide. By most measures, that made it a commercial success—though it was still outpaced by Octopussy, Roger Moore’s official Eon entry, in what was widely dubbed the 1983 “Battle of the Bonds.” The underlying rights disputes didn’t end there. Kevin McClory continued to pursue additional remakes for years and even partnered with Sony in the 1990s in an effort to relaunch the property. Those legal entanglements were finally resolved in 2013, when McClory’s estate reached a settlement with Eon, clearing the way for the official return of SPECTRE and Blofeld in the series—most notably in “Spectre” (2015).

As for the film itself, “Never Say Never Again” is probably required viewing only for hard-core Bond fans. For everyone else, it’s largely skippable. The film currently holds a 71% critics’ score on Rotten Tomatoes, contrasted with a far less forgiving 37% audience score. One suspects that many of the critical reviews came from Bond-friendly writers revisiting the film years later, while the audience reaction more accurately reflects the disappointment of sitting through it.

“Pretty Woman” turned 35 on March 23, 2025. The film cost less than $15 million to make and returned over $463 million at the global box office. Those numbers tell part of the story. The rest lives in every romantic comedy that came after it, borrowing its structure, its beats, its insistence that money and love are the same thing.

Vivian Ward works as a sex worker on Hollywood Boulevard. Edward Lewis runs a corporation that acquires other corporations and sells them off in pieces. They meet by accident when Edward gets lost driving a borrowed sports car. By the end of the week, he has paid her $3,000 for her company, bought her a wardrobe, taken her to the opera, and fallen in love. The film presents this sequence as a fairy tale, complete with a white limousine, a fire escape, and a final kiss.

The Template That Stuck

Julia Roberts earned her first Academy Award nomination for the role, along with a Golden Globe. Her performance made her a star, and the film made a template. A woman in financial trouble meets a wealthy man. He introduces her to a world she could not afford on her own. She softens his heart. He rescues her from her circumstances. The credits roll.

This structure predates “Pretty Woman” by centuries. The Cinderella story exists in nearly every culture, with variations that span from ancient Egypt to 17th century France. Pretty Woman updated it for audiences who wanted something closer to their own time. The glass slipper became a designer dress. The fairy godmother became a hotel manager with good taste. The ball became an opera.

The Prince Charming Problem

“Pretty Woman” asks viewers to root for Edward Lewis, a corporate raider who buys companies and dismantles them for profit. He pays Vivian three thousand dollars for a week of her time. The film frames this as romance, but critics have long pointed out that Edward functions as a glorified sugar daddy with a private jet and a penthouse suite. His wealth solves every obstacle in the plot. Vivian gets new clothes, a new life, and a man who rescues her from the streets. The power imbalance between them never gets addressed.

The film earned over $463 million worldwide and established a formula that romantic comedies still copy. A woman in difficult circumstances meets a rich man who transforms her world through spending power and access. Julia Roberts won a Golden Globe for the role, and the story became shorthand for modern fairy tales. The 2018 Broadway adaptation with music by Bryan Adams broke box office records, proving the fantasy still sells. Pretty Woman made wealth look like love, and audiences bought it completely.

What the Copies Got Wrong

The romantic comedies that followed tried to recapture the same chemistry. “Maid in Manhattan” put Jennifer Lopez in a hotel uniform and Ralph Fiennes in a senator’s suit. “The Proposal” had Sandra Bullock as a publishing executive and Ryan Reynolds as her assistant. “27 Dresses,” “Two Weeks Notice,” “Sweet Home Alabama.” Each film paired a woman with a man of higher status, and each film treated his resources as part of his appeal.

None of them sold as many tickets as “Pretty Woman.” The original film holds the record for the highest number of ticket sales in the U.S. for a romantic comedy. Part of that success came from timing. The film arrived in 1990, when audiences had an appetite for optimism and gloss. Part of it came from Roberts, whose performance carried warmth that her imitators could not manufacture.

The Stage Version

In 2018, a Broadway musical adaptation opened with original music by Bryan Adams. The production broke box office records during its run and later toured Germany and the UK. Audiences paid to see the same story performed live, with songs added to the shopping montage and the fire escape finale. The show proved that the fantasy still had currency, 28 years after the film first played in theaters.

Why It Endures

“Pretty Woman” works because it promises something simple. A hard life can become an easy one. The right person can appear and make everything better. The film does not apologize for its fantasy or complicate it with realism. Vivian leaves sex work behind. Edward stops destroying companies. They live happily ever after in a penthouse that most viewers will never see.

The film became the second-highest-grossing production in the U.S. in 1990. It made Julia Roberts a household name. It gave romantic comedies a playbook that writers still follow. Every rom-com protagonist who falls for a billionaire owes something to Vivian Ward, standing on a fire escape in a red dress, waiting for her prince to arrive.

The story remains effective because it taps something old and persistent. The wish for rescue. The belief that love and security can arrive together, wrapped in the same package. “Pretty Woman” did not invent this wish. It gave it a penthouse suite and a Rodeo Drive shopping spree, and audiences have been buying tickets ever since.