Kajol trolled for wearing snug black dress — Mini Mathur calls out Bollywood’s obsession with women’s bodies

Dubai: I am done. Done with Bollywood actresses — and their Hollywood peers — being dragged through the mud for daring to exist in bodies that don’t fit society’s eternally 25-year-old fantasy.

The latest target? Kajol. She wore a black bodycon dress, looked fierce and fabulous, and instead of celebrating her confidence, trolls went feral.

A photographer zoomed in on her tummy — yes, literally reduced an icon to her midsection — and the internet did what it does best: “Is she pregnant?” “Oh my gosh, can’t she see herself?”

Misogyny dressed up as concern, and it’s 2025. We’re still here.

Enter actress Mini Mathur, who wasn’t having it. She dropped the mic with: “How dare you zoom in on her body? She doesn’t owe you guys eternal youth. You don’t get to decide how she should look.”

That’s not just a defense — that’s a manifesto. Kajol doesn’t owe us, or anyone, flat abs, filtered perfection, or endless Botox.

And yet, this obsession with eternal youth isn’t new. Look at Serena Williams — one of the greatest athletes of all time. She has literally redefined power, endurance, and grace, yet now she’s hawking weight-loss drugs like they’re the only ticket to being relevant.

That’s how insidious body culture has become: even legends feel compelled to cash in on our collective insecurity. If a woman who has shattered glass ceilings on the court still bends to the weight-loss industrial complex, what chance does an average woman have?

Or take Jennifer Aniston — forever “Rachel from Friends.” She can’t so much as wear sweatpants on a coffee run without tabloids zooming in, whispering about pregnancy rumors. She’s written open letters about how sick she is of being defined by her stomach, but still the paparazzi chase that angle, hungry for a shot that can reduce a global star to her womb.

Notice the pattern? Women are dissected, speculated upon, and shamed for natural bodies, while men walk free with bloated midriffs, salt-and-pepper hair, and zero scrutiny.

Nobody asks them if they’re “age-appropriate” in their suits. Nobody zooms in on their belly overhangs. The hypocrisy is staggering.

Kajol showing up in her black dress and owning it isn’t just fashion — it’s resistance.

In a culture that polices women’s bodies to exhaustion, her refusal to conform is quietly radical. She didn’t issue statements. She didn’t rush to explain. She simply wore what she wanted and lived her life. And in doing so, she exposed the fragile egos of those who want women forever young, forever slim, forever silent.

Plus, let’s not forget who we’re talking about here. Kajol,51, isn’t just another celebrity at a fashion event; she’s one of Indian cinema’s most enduring leading actresses.

From redefining romance in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, to bringing grit in Gupt and Dushman, to balancing mainstream hits like Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham and Fanaa with nuanced turns in My Name Is Khan, Helicopter Eela and Netflix’s Tribhanga — she has consistently proven that talent, charisma, and sheer presence outlast every passing trend.

At nearly three decades in the industry, Kajol is a portrait of staying relevant without pandering, commanding the screen while evolving with it.

Say it loud: It’s her body. It’s her choice. And if that unsettles you, maybe the problem isn’t Kajol’s waistline — maybe it’s your worldview.