The Size Inclusivity Boom Is Over

Tanya Taylor saw the first signs of change in her fitting rooms. The designer built her namesake label around a simple promise: great clothes across a broad range of sizes. But lately, the demand has noticeably shifted in one direction. “We’ve tracked clients who were a size 16 or 18 and are now a 10 or 12,” Taylor says. “Shapes are getting slimmer.”

This is in large part due to the rise of GLP-1s. Roughly one in eight Americans is now taking one, which is perhaps why nearly one in seven apparel exchanges last year was for a smaller size, a three-year high, according to Narvar, a platform that tracks returns. As more shoppers size down, the fashion industry is doing what it has always done: making less for everyone else.

The shift is particularly hard on smaller brands like Taylor’s. She says wholesalers ultimately decide which sizes they will carry, leaving brands with limited control over what reaches the sales floor. Many of her retail partners have pulled back from ordering extended sizing.

Meeting the demands of the majority is not a new concept for business owners, but when it comes to fashion, there are larger ramifications. “I just hope the industry does not confuse a change in current demand with the disappearance of an entire customer,” Taylor says.

For the past decade, the industry appeared ready to evolve beyond the razor-thin beauty standards it had long idealized. Size inclusivity became a marker of progress, pursued through expanded ranges, more representative campaigns, and broader runway casting.

By fall 2026, that progress had begun to unravel. In a Vogue Business analysis of the season’s collections, fewer than one percent of models cast were above a straight size. The clothes told the same story: shorter skirts, lower backs, skinnier jeans, and a renewed fixation on a narrow silhouette. On major runways, the change has been impossible to miss. Ahead of his Gucci debut, Demna publicly said he was no longer interested in oversized silhouettes, and his first collection for the house marked a turn toward leaner, body-conscious shapes.

“Five or 10 years ago, there was such a great movement toward more representation,” says Olivia Villanti, founder of the made-to-measure tailoring label Chava Studio. “The past couple of seasons have been scary. I feel like we’re in the early ’90s again.”

The same retreat is playing out at every level: in who gets cast, which sizes get stocked, and which brands can afford to keep making clothes for the women the industry only recently promised to include.

For customers, fashion’s idealization of thinness, combined with retailers buying and making fewer extended sizes, can determine whether a woman can walk into a store and find clothes that fit her at all. Sarah Chiwaya, founder of the #PlusSizePlease movement and contributing Marie Claire editor, says that those changes often happen under the radar. “Many brands do it quietly,” she says. “I often find out because I see a sudden influx of plus-size pieces on discount sites, get suspicious, and then head to the brand’s website to find the plus or extended section gone completely.”

As brands narrow their size assortments, plus-size shoppers are increasingly squeezed out of mainstream retail and left relying on a shrinking group of labels that still consistently carry their size. That shift places more responsibility on independent brands—but also more financial pressure.

Villanti has largely avoided that burden by operating Chava Studio on a made-to-order model. But as she begins producing more inventory in advance, she has to predict not only which pieces customers will want, but also how many to make in each size. “It’s terrifying for me,” she says. A miscalculation can leave a small label with money tied up in unsold clothing. Unlike made-to-order production, every size has to be committed to months before a customer buys it.

Naomi Mishkin wants her New York label, Naomi Nomi, to be one of the brands shoppers can still rely on. “I have every interest in making clothes for the bodies that exist in the real world,” she says. “Quite frankly, I find that much more interesting. Where is the design challenge in designing for only one kind of body?” Her average customer remains a medium, with large and extra large among the brand’s strongest-selling sizes. The rush toward smaller bodies may not be reflected in her customer base, but serving that customer still requires expenses many indie labels struggle to sustain.

Every additional size comes with its own costs— it requires new patterns, additional fittings, more samples, and a larger upfront investment. Mara Hoffman, whose 24-year-old label shuttered in 2024, raised a similar concern when she expanded into extended sizing in 2018, describing it as “a whole new approach to fit and sizing” that required significant investment before a brand could know whether the demand would justify it.

That trade-off is prompting some brands to consider alternatives to simply expanding or narrowing their ranges. Taylor introduced a program that lets shoppers try up to eight pieces at home as their bodies change, while Mishkin has explored adjustable construction and fabrics with more give. Neither approach eliminates the cost of serving a wider range of shoppers. But they show how smaller labels can remain nimble even with limited funds—and raise the question of what larger companies, with far greater resources and reach, are willing to do.

Universal Standard has built its entire business around the belief that changing bodies shouldn’t require changing who gets to participate in fashion. The brand offers sizes 00 through 40, and cofounder and CEO Polina Veksler says its commitment is not subject to whichever body type happens to dominate the conversation.

“The moment we’d start narrowing our focus based on whatever size the culture currently finds acceptable is the moment we’d become exactly the kind of brand we set out to replace,” she says.

Not every brand was built around that mission—or is equally willing to uphold it when demand shifts. As more labels narrow their size ranges, fewer companies are left carrying the cost of serving every body. Ultimately, someone will pay for it.

This piece originally appeared in Marie Claire's 2026 Legends issue.