Runway reality: size inclusivity takes a stunning u-turn

Three years ago, I hoped Vogue Business’s Size Inclusivity report would nudge the fashion industry toward a more representative ideal. Instead, the data paints a starkly different picture: we’re not just stalled, we’ve reversed course. The dream of a runway reflecting the average woman’s size—a size 16-18 in the US—is fading faster than ever.

The numbers don't lie: a decade of progress undone

Our report, launched with the optimistic belief that a Vogue title holding a mirror to the industry would spur change, has revealed a troubling trend. Straight-size models (US 0-4) now dominate the runway, peaking this season, and increasing their proportion by two percentage points across the last seven seasons, from 95.6% in FW23 to a concerning 97.6% in FW26. The representation of mid-size models (US 6-12) has plummeted from 3.8% to 2.1%, while plus-size representation (US 14+) has been halved, dropping from 0.6% to a dismal 0.3%.

The fleeting moments of progress seen in SS24 and SS25—likely fueled by the ease of using stretchy, spring-appropriate dresses on models of various sizes—now appear as mere anomalies in a dishearteningly consistent pattern. The reality is this: the industry, once tentatively exploring inclusivity, seems to have doubled down on a narrow, unrealistic ideal.

But the problem extends beyond the catwalk. The rise of conservatism, the GLP-1 boom impacting body image, and a disturbing obsession with “looksmashing”—the pursuit of radical self-optimization—have contributed to a climate where thinness reigns supreme. Gasps of disbelief ripple through audiences as increasingly skeletal models parade past, and media coverage now frequently fixates on their frames rather than the clothes themselves.

What’s particularly galling is the disconnect between runway displays and reality. We’re seeing fake curves projected onto T-shirts and sculpted into second-skin garments, while worryingly thin legs peek out from voluminous suiting. Brands, when pressed for comment, often remain silent, while others describe garments as “mid-size” without acknowledging the bodies they’re intended to clothe. As a US 6-8 myself, a mid-size by runway standards, I’m acutely aware of the privilege I hold compared to the average American woman.

Tokenism and the broken promise of representation

Our research reveals a disturbing pattern of tokenism—brands featuring a single mid-size or plus-size model to boost their rankings, only to fail to produce garments that actually fit those sizes. The same few curve supermodels reappear season after season, and when they’re unavailable, the industry defaults to 100% straight-size. A recent survey of nearly 700 consumers underscores this disconnect: 48% feel pressure to lose weight, with 63% citing sizing challenges as the primary driver. This pressure isn't driven by runway shows alone, but the underlying message that only a certain body type is worthy of fashion’s attention.

I recently visited Bond Street—a bastion of luxury retail—to test this theory. One leading label claimed to offer sizes up to a US 20 online, yet the London flagship store stocked only up to a US 12. Another brand’s website showcased sizes up to a US 16, but the store only carried US 12-14, with a vague promise of “some things having a bigger fit.”

Content creator Abisola Omole, known as Abi Marvel, is actively challenging this reality. Through her “Plus-Size and Passing” series on Instagram, she investigates luxury stores and documents the availability of sizes, often uncovering that larger garments are hidden away, creating the illusion of scarcity. “I used to just walk in and try,” she explains, “but now I specifically book appointments to ensure they have a range of pieces available.”

The fashion industry’s representation problem is far more complex than just the runway. It's about accessibility, visibility, and a fundamental shift in perspective. We at Vogue Business will continue to push for change, refining our data and holding brands accountable, regardless of whether they listen.

The numbers speak for themselves: the pursuit of an ever-narrowing ideal is not just a trend, it's a systemic failure—one that leaves the vast majority of women feeling unseen and underserved.