No Oprah, fat ISN’T fabulous – and your super-sized Ozempic hypocrisy proves it: KARA KENNEDY damns the body positivity brigade for selling us their ‘truth’… then secretly doing the opposite!

Welcome to life after Ozempic, where everybody in Hollywood looks wonderfully svelte but nobody can admit why.

Or at least not until their change in fat fortunes becomes so strikingly apparent they have to divulge the truth.

In 2021, the FDA greenlighted semaglutide – otherwise known by brand names Wegovy and Ozempic – the wonder weight-loss injections that help you shed the pounds by suppressing your appetite and without the need for exercising or hard-to-keep diets.

And guess what: Since then, it seems like every famous fatty – hungry for a fitter red-carpet frame – has transformed into an A-list wisp.

Step forward Oprah Winfrey, stepping out last week in Beverly Hills at the premiere of The Color Purple reboot, premiering a strikingly slimmer figure.

Aged 69, the talk-show supremo has, for most of her career, been synonymous with a larger stature. At her heaviest, she clocked in at 237 pounds.

Step forward Oprah Winfrey, stepping out last week in Beverly Hills at the premiere of The Color Purple reboot, premiering a strikingly slimmer figure.

Aged 69, the talk-show supremo has, for most of her career, been synonymous with a larger stature. At her heaviest, she clocked in at 237 pounds.

A forerunner of the boresome ‘body positivity’ brigade, Oprah has long struggled with her self-described ‘yo-yoing’ weight, expending much of her time lecturing others on why ‘fatphobia’ is toxic and how a medically healthy weight is actually an unhealthy aspiration.

Thanks, Doc!

‘Shouldn’t we all just be more accepting of whatever body you choose to be in?’ she proclaimed just three months ago.

Asked if she’d ever dabble in Ozempic, she said no. She viewed fat-jabs as the ‘easy way out’.

Well, well, well… as the sun rises on yet another People magazine puff piece gush-a-thon, Oprah’s truth has undergone a transformation of its own.

As the star told the soft-touch gossip publication Wednesday: ‘[I] felt I had to prove I had the willpower to [lose weight]. I now no longer feel that way. I now use [weight-loss medication] as I feel I need it.’

Surely the question on any serious interviewer’s lips should be: Were you silent about your secret Ozempic, or were you silenced?

Sadly though, this was no prime-time interview under the dappled light of a vine-covered Montecito patio – and People mag chose instead to gloss over Oprah’s big-fat ruse and focus on the ‘blame’ and ‘shame’ she says she’s suffered.

But there’s a serious point here. For, in icing over the cracks in her wafer-thin narrative, Oprah has been having her cake and eating it: able to continue propagating the harmful lie that ‘fat is fabulous’, while secretly paying for the chance to be anything but.

A forerunner of the boresome ‘body positivity’ brigade, Oprah has long struggled with her self-described ‘yo-yoing’ weight, expending much of her time lecturing others on why ‘fatphobia’ is toxic and how a medically healthy weight is actually an unhealthy aspiration.

And it’s not just Oprah who’s been dramatically minimizing while keeping mum about how they’re doing it: Kelly Clarkson, Khloe Kardashian, Jonah Hill, Rebel Wilson.

Are we really to believe their recent transformations have had nothing whatsoever to do with the simultaneous advent of miracle weight-loss medicines, that these long-time plus-sized VIPs have simply discovered a never-before-had obsession with the gym?

After all, at $1000-a-month, a course of Ozempic is small change to Hollywood stars. (Us ordinary folk have to meet certain ‘unhealthy’ criteria to qualify for an affordable price on insurance).

Oprah and her anti-fatphobia acolytes have done much to damage American public health.

Long gone are the days when children were expected to play for hours outside, when a mid-life spread was something to feel embarrassed about and to work off on the treadmill. 

Three quarters of adults in the US are now overweight. Nearly half are obese.

Among children, that figure stands at a shocking 20 per cent. Meanwhile, more than 100,000 Americans die each year from diabetes.

But instead of firing off alarms about this national crisis, the perpetually offended have decreed that obesity is either off limits – or better, it must be celebrated.

Cue 300-pound-plus models like Tess Holliday and Lizzo on the fronts of magazines, enormous frames stomping down runways, and endless whining about how society is unfairly stacked against the overweight.

And it’s not just Oprah who’s been dramatically minimizing while keeping mum about how they’re doing it: Kelly Clarkson (right), Khloe Kardashian, Jonah Hill (left), Rebel Wilson.

Are we really to believe their recent transformations have had nothing whatsoever to do with the simultaneous advent of miracle weight-loss medicines, that these long-time plus-sized VIPs have simply discovered a never-before-had obsession with the gym? (Pictured: Rebel Wilson, left – Khloe Kardashian, right).

Just this week, it emerged that Southwest Airlines is offering ‘customers of size’ a complimentary extra seat when they fly. What next? Free Ubers so they don’t have to walk from A to B?

Oprah’s sugar-coated hypocrisy has exposed a hard truth: That, given the chance, of course everyone wants a slimmer figure – we feel and look better for it. Fat simply isn’t fabulous.

Some people – like Oprah only three months ago – have said they’re unhappy that weight-loss is now at the end of an injection pen.

For years, radical gastric-band surgeries and other ‘cheats’ have been the stuff of hushed chatter by the water cooler.

Perhaps we want to believe that discipline and suffering pay off. That gobbling down your veggies, running laps of the track and good old-fashioned willpower are the only routes to success.

But in a world where we’re all getting fatter, and sedentary lifestyles are ever-more encouraged, does it really matter how we get thin?

Some celebs are speaking about Ozempic use.

Mother-daughter duo Sharon and Kelly Osborne, known for their unapologetic honesty, haven’t held back.

Newly super-slim Sharon told You magazine last month she’d dropped over 40 pounds using the injections and even fears she’s taken it too far.

‘It’s easy to become addicted… which is very dangerous,’ she said. ‘I can’t afford to lose any more weight.’

Certainly, the potential for unknown long-term complications from semaglutide worry some experts.

Elon Musk and Amy Schumer have all also admitted to taking the fat-jabs.

Musk – who eats a doughnut every morning – lost 20 pounds. Schumer meanwhile said she became ‘so skinny’ but also ‘so sick’ and has since stopped using the drugs.

Instead of firing off alarms about the national weight crisis, the perpetually offended have decreed that obesity is either off limits – or better, it must be celebrated. Cue 300-pound-plus models like Tess Holliday (pictured) and Lizzo on the fronts of magazines.

Such unashamed openness is admirable.

Having celebrities that we look up to dropping dress sizes and claiming it’s all down to hardcore training and a newfound love of health eating is as disheartening as it is unhelpful.

For most ordinary overweight people, the answer to a better life won’t be found in an expensive gym subscription that you’ll never use, or at the bottom of a $20 salad – but, as they become increasingly accessible, in these wonderful new weight loss drugs that curb cravings.

It’s time we all started being honest with ourselves – and that includes you, Oprah.

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