A Dinner Party Turned Surreal: How Ozempic Changed the Celebrity Gatherings
There are moments that make you feel like you’re witnessing a cultural tipping point—phenomena so bizarre that you’re torn between laughing and crying. For me, this occurred at what was hyped as the must-attend celebrity dinner of the season, hosted by one of Australia’s most exclusive restaurants.
The Setup: An Illusion of Glamour
Designer tablecloths adorned a lavish setting, while heirloom tomatoes seemed to have their own publicists. Dining at this venue typically costs around $500, yet here I was, surrounded by glittering dishes served up for free—an invitation to the Instagrammable feast of a lifetime.
But as I walked in, I quickly realized something wasn’t quite right. There it all was: gleaming towers of antipasti, crusty loaves still warm from the oven, and pasta that looked like it was styled by a Vogue Italia editor. Yet, curiously, no one was touching it.
A Museum of Food: Why No One Dared to Eat
They “admired” the food, snapping photos and exclaiming, “Oh my god, that focaccia is insane!”—but tasting? Not a chance. It was like being in a museum of carbs, where no one dared to indulge.
I felt like an outsider at this epicurean event, a Miss Piggy among delicate swans. Once, guests would swarm the kitchen door for their fare; now, they actively avoided it like it was a dietary sin.
As I surveyed the room, it quickly dawned on me: everyone—well, nearly everyone—was on Ozempic. This weight-loss miracle drug, originally developed for diabetics, has amorphously morphed into a sought-after status symbol among the celebrity elite.
The Shock of the Evening: Conversations of Ozempic
It was clear that Ozempic has infiltrated these social gatherings, becoming one of the hottest topics of conversation. Guests swapped contact information for dubious doctors like it was a new business card exchange.
Whispers of “injection horror stories” floated around. One guest recounted, “I accidentally injected 1ml instead of 0.25ml and couldn’t get out of bed for four days.” Yes, that’s a conversation you’d expect to hear at a haute couture clinic, not a dinner party!
Why had Ozempic become the de facto conversation starter? Because it’s not only about weight loss; it actively makes you detest food—and, worse still, alcohol. What kind of cruel joke is this? No pasta and no martinis?
The Sad State of Dinner Parties in 2025
Surrounded by hollow-cheeked fashionistas sipping sparkling water as if it were a flavorful broth, I yearned for the roast potatoes. One particularly delicate woman flinched when a waiter approached with canapés—an act of culinary violence against her regimen.
As I haltingly observed the shifting dynamics, I realized the modern dinner party was no longer a joyous gathering but an exhibition of curated starvation. The new status symbol? How little you can consume while still pretending you’re having a good time.
But were they? The answer is a resounding no. In this dystopian scene, everyone was scowling at each other out of sheer hunger-induced misery.
The Downward Spiral of Indulgence
What has happened to joy, indulgence, and the delight of sharing stories over a vol-au-vent? One waiter admitted, “We’ve started halving the portions. They just get left behind.” Another lamented the substantial amounts of food discarded, stating, “It’s depressing.”
Event planners have had to adjust their budgets; they now offer fewer glasses of champagne because guests simply don’t finish one.
This obsession with shrinking ourselves has overrun any meaningful celebration of life, causing us to forget how truly delicious it is to live.
A Call to Action: Rediscover the Joy of Eating
So here’s my clarion call: if you’re fortunate enough to attend an event bursting with culinary delight and decent company, for the love of béarnaise, eat the damn pasta. Stop chasing perfection and embrace the joy of the last piece of garlic bread.
Life is too short to deny yourself oysters, duck ragu, or that extra slice of tiramisu whispering sweet nothings from across the room.
As Julia Roberts famously said in Eat Pray Love, “I’m having a relationship with my pizza,” and honestly, I want that too. I crave a life where I flirt with dessert, marry the carbs, and engage in a passionate affair with a dirty martini.
My favorite conversations revolve around food; my most recurring question to friends (after “Who are you dating?”) is, “What did you eat?”
Ozempic may keep its hollow cheeks, bad moods, and sad soda water. I’ll gladly take laughter, leftovers, and second helpings any day.
And to that gorgeous Italian man who blazed through panna cotta, if you’re reading this—please slide into my DMs.
