Photo-Illustration: by The Cut; Photos: Getty Images
It’s tough to put a dollar amount on the advantages of looking conventionally “attractive” (young, well-dressed, thin), but the professional upsides are uncomfortably clear, especially when it comes to weight. Decades of research shows that people who are thinner tend to make more money and attain higher-status jobs, particularly women in white-collar workplaces. It’s understandable, then, that people would put a lot of effort (and money) into how they look in order to maintain a professional edge.
More recently, GLP-1 weight-loss drugs have entered the arena of self-maintenance. In fields where personal appearance is prized, they’ve become commonplace, if not normal. But at what cost? Here, three people in different industries who are taking the drugs for professional purposes — and feel conflicted about it — share their experiences.
—Ann, 45, director at a bank in Manhattan
I work in finance, and it’s extremely male-dominated. The frat-house culture is real. And most of the women who work in this industry fit the same mold. They look like hot, thin sorority girls in business attire. Maybe things have changed in the past ten or 20 years — they probably used to be worse — but the truth is, there’s a ton of pressure to look a certain way. There’s no open discrimination against people for being fat or ugly; you just don’t see any in the industry.
I started taking a GLP-1 about a year ago, after another woman I work with told me she was taking it. My first thought, when she told me, was, Shit, I have to take this too if I don’t want to be the biggest girl at the office. I wish I could say I was taking it for my health, or because it made me feel better physically, but the truth is that I’m taking it because I’m afraid not to.
I remember the first time I realized that my weight could be a professional liability. I was working on a trading desk right out of college, almost 20 years ago, and during my first performance review, my manager told me that he’d received some comments on my professional attire and that I should review the employee handbook regarding dress code. He clearly felt really awkward about this, and I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. I knew the real issue was my weight. I always followed the dress code — I wore a suit every day — but I’d gained about 15 pounds that year and some of my clothes no longer fit well. I did those juice cleanses, which are obviously terrible for you, and managed to lose some of the weight. But it was a constant battle.
I’ve never been obese, but I’ve always been on the bigger side. I have the kind of metabolism where, if I don’t work out regularly and watch what I eat, I will go up a size immediately. My weight fluctuates a lot. A lot of people in my family are overweight.
When I decided to start a GLP-1, I didn’t even know where to get it. I was too embarrassed to go to an actual doctor, and I was pretty sure they wouldn’t prescribe it to me anyway, because I wasn’t technically overweight. I wound up using one of those online telehealth platforms. You answer a bunch of questions and send a picture of yourself. The first time I went through the process, I answered all the questions honestly, and they wouldn’t prescribe me a GLP-1; they suggested some other weight-loss regimen. So I tried it again and lied about my weight and said it was higher, and it worked.
I take Zepbound, and it is expensive — about $1,300 a month. The medication itself costs around $1,100 for four prefilled pens, and then I pay another $150 for a “membership” to the telehealth platform’s weight-loss program. I could probably save that $150 by finding a doctor who would prescribe it to me, but I don’t know where to start with that. And doing it online is just much easier, so it’s worth it to me. I haven’t told anyone I’m doing it, not even my husband. He’s the kind of person who never struggles with his weight, so I don’t think he’d understand, and he’d probably be worried about me. I’m kind of hoping that a pill or something will come out that I can take instead, and at that point I’ll tell him.
I feel really conflicted about the fact that I’ve been doing this. Yes, I’ve lost weight — about 20 pounds — and it’s a huge relief to not have to worry about whether my pants are going to fit. I can’t overstate how great it is to take that piece of stress out of my life. In that sense, it’s a miracle. But there are side effects — the usual ones you hear about. I also hate that I feel like I have to do this to maintain what’s considered a professional appearance. I’m well aware that by making myself fit this mold, I’m perpetuating the problem. This should not be normal, and it goes against my values. But increasingly, living your values seems like a huge privilege, and sometimes you have to do a cost-benefit analysis. I wouldn’t get fired for being fat, obviously, but would I get the same amount of professional respect? I don’t really want to find out.
I’ve lumped this expense into the same category of self-maintenance that’s pretty normal, at least for women in my industry: Botox, covering up gray hair, manicures. I do all that stuff, too. It’s ironic, because the older and more experienced I get, the more money I make. I got a big promotion last year and I’m proud of that; I know I deserved it. But also, I have to spend more money to look the part. It’s ridiculous, and I resent it.
—Sarah, 37, commercial real-estate agent in Dallas
I work in commercial real estate, which is a very appearance-driven industry. That wasn’t really an issue for me until I had kids. I had twins about four years ago, and it was hard for me to lose the baby weight. I had postpartum issues and I struggled a lot when my babies were little. I didn’t go back to work for two years. If I’m being honest, part of what kept me from wanting to go back was that I was still about 40 pounds heavier than I was before, and I was really insecure about it.
About two years ago, when Ozempic was getting a lot of attention, I figured I would try it. I was going through a divorce, and I really needed to go back to work, financially. I asked my doctor about it and he said he couldn’t prescribe them to me because I wasn’t prediabetic or obese. But then I figured out it was pretty easy to get a semaglutide prescription online.
It really did work. I lost most of the weight within six months. Now I take a lower dose to maintain. When I was taking a higher dose, I always had to plan around what I was doing that week — if I was going out to dinner with clients, for instance, I wouldn’t take it the day before. I learned that the hard way. The first six months, I spent a lot of time in the bathroom. I also experienced a lot of hair loss. It’s mostly grown back, but not the way it was.
One thing that I don’t see a lot of people talking about is that it did affect my mood. I thought it would make me feel better, mentally, because I’d been so depressed about my weight. But if anything, it was the opposite. I felt even more lethargic and just kind of blah all the time, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. I wound up going on an antidepressant, which helped. But now I’m trapped in this cycle where I have to keep taking these medications just to maintain. It feels fake. Like, where do I get off here? Do I just have to keep doing this until I retire?
At the same time, everyone in my industry is taking it now too. It’s created this new playing field, and if I want to stay competitive, I need to keep up. No one talks about it, at least to me, but it’s pretty obvious.
Financially, it’s not cheap. I spend about $500 a month on it, which is a lot less than I used to. I get the vials instead of the prefilled pens, which saves money, and I take a lower dosage. But I’m making good money in my career right now, so I tell myself it kind of shakes out.
I don’t like that my weight affects me so much. I wish it didn’t. But it does. And if I’m going to provide for my family and advance professionally, I need to keep it in check. I’m trying not to overthink it too much right now.
—Andrew, 38, interior designer based in New York
I have always carried more weight than I wanted to, and probably more than was healthy. And when I have gone to various extreme measures to lose weight, through restrictive eating or tons of working out, I’m miserable. When I’m not restricting myself, I feel generally healthier in the head. So when these new weight-loss medications became available, it seemed like something worth trying.
I’m not a newscaster or a model or anything, but as an interior designer, aesthetics are your whole business. I do a lot of interfacing with clients, and it’s important that I look a certain way. Also, in our end of the market, we run around with the Über-wealthy, and obviously there is a huge emphasis on appearance and looks and weight in this realm of the world. Finally, in this era, you are supposed to present yourself and sell yourself as part of your product. It’s not just about your work — the face behind the design is part of your brand, so to speak. There are a lot of industry events, there’s a lot of photography. There’s social media. All of this puts pressure on men and women in the industry to look good.
I first got the idea to try a GLP-1 through a friend. She was probably 50 pounds heavier than she wanted to be, and she was having a hard time losing the weight. She talked about wanting to try it, and it was so nice to have an open and nonjudgmental conversation about wanting to lose weight. So I talked to my doctor and he thought it was a good idea. I didn’t qualify for insurance to cover it, because I didn’t have a diabetes issue or anything. And I was not interested in trying to get a discount for fake reasons. I felt morally that was wrong, and I was happy to pay the full price. I’m privileged to be able to do that.
I ramped up the dosage gradually, but I did have a fair number of side effects. Mine were pretty much GI related. I’d never had motion sickness before in my life, but suddenly I had to take Zofran for it, which helped. Within about six months, I lost about 25, 30 pounds. So I decided to go off of it to see what would happen.
I went off of it for six months, and in those six months, I never gained more than a couple of pounds. I wasn’t doing anything different. I was very, very aware of not depriving myself. So I was really just trying to roll with it. Then my weight did start to creep up, so I went back on it for a few months again. Now I sort of use it ad hoc. I’ll do it for a month and then take a month off, or I’ll stretch a month’s dose over two or three months. I see myself having it in my life for the long term.
It’s expensive — about a thousand dollars a month. But $12,000 a year, in the grand scheme of living in Manhattan, isn’t unmanageable, especially if it makes a big positive impact.
I don’t know, specifically, if losing weight has helped me professionally. But I definitely have a different sense of confidence in myself now than I did before. I put a lot of my life on social media, and it’s nice to feel good about how you look. Now my spouse is on it too. I’m open with everyone about it. I’ll say, “I’m on the shot.” The only people I wouldn’t tell are my parents. I think they would consider it lazy.
A lot of other people in the industry are on it. Some have taken it to the extreme. They look skeletal, like bobbleheads. I’m trying to have a healthy relationship with it.
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